“Yeah. I’m gonna grab a suitcase. Go ahead and get started, babe.”
She lifted a brow but nodded, unloading the cart and placing items on the belt. I kept an eye on her the entire time, watching from the aisle where all the luggage was stored on shelves. They had a display up, which meant I didn’t have to go far. I found one with a gray hardshell case and picked it up, balancing it on my shoulder as I strode back to Rachel.
She took one look at me, blinked, and pointed to the belt. “Um, just put it there.”
I placed the suitcase on the belt, watching as the cashier finished with our order. Once I swiped my card and everything was packed in bags, I led Rachel outside. It took a few minutes, but I managed to fit everything I could into the saddlebags. Everything else went into the suitcase, which I strapped to the back of my bike above the tire. It might get dusty, but we could clean it later.
“Is that going to be a problem?”
“The suitcase? Nah. It’ll be okay for a couple of hours.”
Rachel kissed my cheek. “Thank you, Crypt.”
“My pleasure, Brown Eyes.”
She loved it when I called her that, shyly turning her head, but not before I saw her lips twitch with a smile.
At least I could erase some of the sadness in her eyes temporarily until we reached The Crossroads and Hannibal returned. I saw the way he looked at her the day she visited him in prison, then again today outside the rodeo. He loved his daughter and would do anything for her.
I couldn’t explain it, but I knew he wouldn’t fail. He’d bring Rylee back to her mom.
“You hungry?” I asked as she settled behind me on my bike.
“Yes, but I want to get to Tonopah first.”
That made sense. She wanted to be there when Hannibal arrived with Rylee. I didn’t need to hear her say it to know that was how she felt.
“Sounds good.”
The ride to Tonopah felt like only a few minutes, not several hours. Maybe that was because Rachel was on the back of my bike.
A prospect opened the gate once we rolled up, and I glided onto the lot, rolling to a stop. The Crossroads was a huge compound with several buildings. At one time, the main clubhouse had been an airplane hangar, but was now enclosed and remodeled to house the club members, plus the chapel, bar, and other rooms that were needed.
I’d never been inside, but my mom had. She wrote to me about it in one of her letters, and I could see it hadn’t changed too much in the last twenty years. Sure, the tech was updated, but much of the structures remained the same. Razor wire topped the fence that surrounded the perimeter, and I caught quite a few cameras that recorded from every angle.
The GBMC wasn’t messing around. They would know as soon as someone tried to fuck with them. It didn’t surprise me. Grim seemed like the type of president who cared about his club, members, their families, and their safety. These were the men my mother described, and so did my father in his letters to her. Lockjaw loved this club, Grim, his brothers, and the MC life.
It was in my blood.
I parked my bike, unsure which space to choose, and ended up at the end of a long row. I didn’t want to step out of line and do something stupid or offensive on my first day.
Rachel seemed jittery and nervous as we stood. “Crypt?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I’d feel better if I held your hand.”
Damn.That was sweet. I tethered our fingers and approached the entrance, entering beneath a sign that read THE CROSSROADS. It was metal and rusted, but fit the vibe.
Inside the bar, Grim waited. The area was packed with members drinking, playing pool, or seated around the bar. I noticed there weren’t any club girls, ol’ ladies, or non-members. Instantly on alert, I nodded to Grim.
“You brought Rachel,” he observed, glancing at our clasped fingers. “And Hannibal?”
“Getting my daughter back,” Rylee declared, speaking loud and clear enough that everyone heard. “She was kidnapped.”
A few men cursed, others grumbled, but kept it low enough that Grim could be heard when he spoke.
“He went after his granddaughter alone?” Grim asked.
