Page 66 of Riding Hard

I expect the scent of dinner to greet my nose instantly. I also anticipate the sounds of Juliette and Cade to greet my ears, maybe some background noise like a movie or music.

Something.

But instead, I’m met with deafening silence.

“Jules,” I call out.

Again, silence.

“Cade?”

Silence.

The house is dark and quiet. No smells, no sounds, nothing. It’s eerie. Moving through the house, I check the bedrooms and bathroom but find nothing. Slipping into the small backyard, I look around for signs of life, but again, nothing.

My heart races, my stomach curdles, and I know deep in my marrow that something is wrong. Taking my phone out of my pocket, I call Juliette’s new cell, but it doesn’t even ring. It goes straight to voicemail. It’s either dead or turned off.

Fuck.

I haven’t gotten around to buying Cade a cell phone, although it’s on my fucking list, especially with as much as he stays after school for activities. I’m really fucking regretting that at the moment.

Panic begins to set in, and my mind spins. I don’t know what to do, and for a moment, I fucking spiral, but then I shake my head from side to side and get my fucking shit together. Sucking in a breath, I hold it for a moment, then let it out slowly.

Turning around, I walk back into the house. Flicking my gaze down to the phone I’m still holding, I call Elodie. She’s Juliette’s boss, so she should know where Juliette is. The phone rings a couple of times, and then I hear her answer. The background is loud, and I already know where she is

The clubhouse.

“Loot?” she calls out. “You should come down here. Cade’s here with Alex.”

Ending the call without saying a single word, I march out of the house, climb onto my bike, shut the garage door, and then I’m fucking gone. I don’t know how I get to the clubhouse without causing an accident, being in an accident, or catching a ticket, but I do. The gate opens as I ride up. Thankfully, I don’t even have to slow down.

Flying down the driveway, I move hard and fast until I get to the parking lot. I almost have to lay my bike down. I come in a bit too hot. Once I get parked, I run into the clubhouse. The music is low, there are people standing around, and my eyes scan for him.

Once they land on my son, I hurry toward him. I look him over, inspecting him for injuries, and let out a sigh of relief when I don’t see any. A deep voice clears their throat, and I shift my attention upward to see Alex standing just a few feet away.

“She’s not here,” he states simply.

Looking back down at Cade, I give him a hug, and he knows it’s time for him to walk away. I watch as he makes his way over to Elodie, who is sitting at a table with her attention focused on me. I notice that she looks worried.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I demand.

Alex shakes his head once. I watch as he runs his fingers through his hair. I open my mouth, ready to give him a piece of my mind and demand that he hurry the fuck up with whatever it is he’s going to say, but I don’t have to because he starts talking.

“We were at the strip club. Everything was fine. She walked out before me, and I locked up. By the time I got to the parking lot, I could tell she was acting off. Then she asked me to pick up Cade and bring him here, not home. Honestly, I expected her to meet us here.”

“Do you know where she is?” I grind out through gritted teeth.

Alex shakes his head. “I watched her drive away, but I don’t know where she went. I didn’t like that she left, but I knew I needed to get Cade to safety. I don’t know if there was any real danger or if it was just a feeling she had. But she’s not here.”

It was fucking danger.

I know it.

I open my mouth to say something, though I’m not sure what. Then I shift my attention to Elodie. “You got any way to track her in that car?” I demand.

Her eyes widen, and I watch in disappointment as her head moves from side to side. Fuck. No tracker. Lifting my hand, I run my fingers through my hair, tugging on the ends once before I let my hand fall to my side.

“She’s not at your place,” Alex murmurs. I don’t respond because it’s not a question. He looks over his shoulder, then shifts his gaze back to meet mine, and his eyes widen. “What about her place?”