Page 34 of Down & Dirty: Rage

No surprise, the screen was locked. One side of his mouth pulled up when he realized she never deleted his access. But then, she probably didn’t know he added himself.

Of course, he had a good fucking reason. Since he helped set up the security system, he had programmed his fingerprint to unlock it so he didn’t have to keep asking her to do it while she was busy tattooing. He had no idea at the time that it would come in handy in the future.

He ignored the fact that her email icon had a red number indicating she had over a hundred unread emails.

He ignored the fact she had some fucking shirtless, tattooed guy as her computer’s wallpaper. She probably thought the fucker was hot or something.

He also ignored the fact that there were at least a dozen folders on her computer’s desktop that weren’t labeled.

If she wasn’t one of the top ink slingers in the area—hell, probably in the state—and it wasn’t backed by the DAMC, he had no doubt In the Shadows Ink would have gone under like a boat with a huge hole in it.

Lyric really needed to get Jazz into the office to get it organized if she didn’t want to hire another person. Her mother had helped Crow run the shop for probably over twenty-five years and she knew what the fuck she was doing.

With an irritated shake of his head, he clicked on the security camera icon and pulled up the footage from earlier. He started at the point the shop opened and fast forwarded to see when she left…

He blinked.

What the fuck? Was he seeing shit? He leaned closer, rewound, blinked a few times to clear his vision, and replayed it.

He shot out of the seat like it had burned his ass. “What the actual fuck?” he yelled. “Holy fuckin’ shit!”

He yanked the laptop free of the charger, rushed out of her office with it tucked under his arm and back into the shop where Carl was now jawing with a customer.

“She was fuckin’ kidnapped!” he yelled at that worthless piece of shit.

Carl cocked his head. “She was what?”

Rage’s heart beat was pounding in his ears and his vision was turning red.

Should he call or text everyone? Or head over to the clubhouse and try to figure out what the fuck was going on first?

He paused only long enough to text Zeke:Lyric. Snagged. Church.He didn’t have the time or patience to type out any long explanation. And with the way his body was vibrating with fear for Lyric and fury over the situation, he would’ve had a tough time typing shit out, anyway.

He slammed both palms against the door, not giving shit if it came off its hinges, then raced to his sled and back toward Church.

Chapter Seven

Rage arrivedat Church at the same time Zeke did. They headed inside and he placed Lyric’s laptop on the bar.

“All right. What the fuck’s goin’ on?” the DAMC president asked him.

“Had an appointment with Lyric today?—”

“You gettin’ another piece?”

Rage ignored that because that was the least important shit right now. “And she was gone when I got there.”

“Okay?”

“She’s always there durin’ shop hours.”

Zeke shrugged. “Maybe she went to get food or somethin’.”

Rage clawed back his irritation. He wanted to punch the fuck out of someone and Zeke was the only one within fist range.

Rage flipped open the laptop’s lid and pulled up the camera footage. He turned the computer so Zeke could see it, then clicked the play button. When it got to the maskedkidnappers, Rage jammed his finger against the screen. “Look at this!”

Zeke’s head jerked back and went from unconcerned to wired in the blink of an eye. “What the fuck! Where were the rest of her employees and why the fuck didn’t anyone let us know?”