Page 169 of Peaks and Promises

“Yeah. There’s nowhere to hide.”

“You think the old man has an underground bunker or something?” the other guy asked. “He seems like the type.”

“I’m wondering if they ain’t here,” the first guy said. “Maybe the old man was telling the truth and they didn’t come.”

“Or they left already,” Hammer said. “Car in the pole barn has Idaho plates. The outcast could have driven that here and left in another vehicle.”

“So what’s our next move?”

Hammer paused, looking around, and tipped his head toward another building in the distance. “Any of you guys think to check that building over there?”

“You think that’s the old man’s?”

“Does it matter?” Hammer asked. “They could have run to a neighbor thinking we won’t search that far.”

“I don’t think they’re here.”

“What do you think, Sum Sum?” Hammer asked. “Is your boy out there?”

I didn’t answer. Just shot him a glare.

He grinned. “Feisty bitch. If they took off, we ain’t finding them without help. So we keep searching here. Make sure we don’t miss anything.”

The others nodded. I glanced around, hoping to see a glimpse of Reese, but he was nowhere to be seen.

We set out across the brown, grassy field toward the building in the distance. The creek snaked by, winding closer, and a livestock fence cut across the landscape. Hammer let go long enough for me to climb over, grabbing my arm again once we were across. The rooster crowed, and I half expected to hear more gunshots. But there was nothing but the wind, rustling in the nearby trees.

The building was a faded barn, the boards gray and weathered with age. There were no windows on the back side, and it was hard to tell if it was still in use. A crumbling farmhouse stood about a hundred feet away, but it was clearly abandoned. The roof had caved in, and one side didn’t have a wall.

Hammer motioned for the other three to spread out. He and I walked around the right side of the building and stopped at the corner. Hammer looked before we continued to the front.

The air smelled like rotting hay. Two sliding barn doors stood closed. Hammer gestured again, pointing at the doors, and two of the club members cautiously approached.

Once again, they had their guns ready. Dust billowed in the wind as they opened the doors, and for a second, nothing happened.

“Okay, okay,” Axel’s voice came from inside. “Don’t shoot.”

Gasping, I lunged forward, instinctively trying to get inside. Hammer jerked me back.

“Not so fast,” he said, then raised his voice. “Axel, get out here.”

Two figures emerged from the shadowy barn. Axel had a grip on Nate’s upper arm, and he pushed him out, slightly ahead of him. He had a gun in his other hand, and although he didn’t raise it, all four club members pointed theirs at him.

Relief washed over me at seeing my son alive. His eyes met mine, full of both fear and defiance.

“Stop,” Hammer said. “Let the kid go.”

Axel glared. “What do you care about the kid?”

“I don’t. But this is over. Let him go so we can get out of here.”

“I’m not coming back with you.”

“Yeah, you are,” Hammer said. “Gotta face club justice.”

“Justice?” Axel spat the word like it tasted bad. “Fuck that. It’s all a lie, Hammer. There’s no justice. No loyalty. It’s all bullshit.”

“You can tell Stryker all about it back at the clubhouse.”