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Crash looked at Wolf and Green. “Get your gear. Get Shannon, and meet us at the bikes. Hurry.”
They left the room.
Cole collapsed down onto the foot of the bed, his elbows hit his knees, his head in his hands.
Crash moved to him and laid his hand on his shoulder.
“I can’t lose her, Crash.”
“You won’t, brother. We’ll get her back.” Cole stood, and Crash hugged him. “We’ll get her back. Come on, let’s go.”
They broke apart.
“My bike’s gonna be flying, and I’m not stopping for anything but gas. You and Shannon gonna be able to keep up?”
“We’ll keep up.”
They made the four hour ride in a little over two. At times, Crash looked down at his speedometer, and it was buried past the 120mph mark. Five bikes roared up the street and into the Evil Dead compound. Bikes already filled the lot. As Crash took them all in, he realized that Mack must have called in every member, every nearby charter and called in every favor with every affiliated club within two hundred miles.
Cole pulled up to the front door, the others right behind him. Mack was waiting, along with Natalie and Cole’s three children. Cole climbed off his bike and went straight to his kids. He gathered them up in his arms, hugging them tight. He had no idea how much they knew or understood of what was happening. He stood, and Natalie flew into his arms. He hugged her tight.
“Oh, Cole. I’m so scared.”
“I’ll get her back,” he whispered to her. “I promise you, I’ll get her back.”
She nodded, still clutching him tightly, trembling. Finally, she stepped back. “Should I take the children home?”
“No,” he said emphatically. “You’re all safer here for now. Take the kids inside, okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Looking over at Mack, he asked, “What do we know?”
Mack motioned over his shoulder. “Church. Now.”
Crash put his arm around Shannon and kissed her. “Go with Natalie. Help her with the kids. I’ll find you when I’m done.”
She nodded, and he moved off.
When the boys were all settled in the meeting room, every chair taken, every inch of available wall space filled with shoulder to shoulder leather cuts, Mack slammed the gavel down. “Quiet down!” When everyone settled, Mack folded his hands and looked at Cole. “Talked to Big Ed. Devil Kings had nothing to do with this. He assured me Taz is still in Nevada and hasn’t left since your run in with him.”
“You believe him?” Cole asked.
Mack moved his hands apart slightly as if to indicate it was a toss-up. “My gut says it’s not them. It’s not their style.”
Cole looked down at the scarred wood of the table.
“You got any other enemies I don’t know about?” Mack asked.
“Too many to list.”
There was a pounding on the door. Mack nodded to Wyatt, President of the Dead Souls who was standing in front of the door. He turned, opened the door and spoke with the prospect on the other side. Then he turned back to Mack. “You’re gonna want to hear this.”
Mack nodded.
Wyatt turned to the prospect. “Bring him in.”
The prospect came through the door, holding a teenage pizza delivery boy by the scruff of the neck. “This kid just showed up with this pizza.” He grabbed the box out of the kid’s hand and slapped it on the table in front of Mack.
