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“Yeah.”
“I found him…” I feel the smirk tug on my face as I pull my cut over my shoulders.
“There’s a motel on interstate 70 he’s staying at. Don’t know for how long, but he was there last night. I’ll message you the address.”
“Thanks, Tucker,” I tell him, hanging up the phone and already walking out my front door.
“Whoa you look like shit!” I crash into Nyx just as I’m about to step off the porch.
“Rough night,” I tell him, marching passed him to get to my bike.
“I was just coming to get you, Prez called church.”
“Yeah, well I ain't gonna make it. Something came up.”
“Something like what? You know Prez is already pissed for the stunt you pulled yesterday.” Nyx narrows his eyes at me.
“Something I got to deal with,” I tell him as I straddle my bike.
“Don’t tell me this is what I think it is,” he says, and the nod I give him back is feeble but enough to let him know. He looks disappointed and I watch him tense up a little.
“I got you covered, bro,” he tells me, and it shocks the hell out of me. Nyx looks back at me with understanding. “Just be careful.”
“’Kay, lil’ brother,” I smirk back at him, starting up my bike.
“I’m fucking bigger than you,” he calls out over my engine, before I set off out the compound on to the main road and toward the 70.
The motel is about thirty miles away from the club, and when I arrive there are no signs of Chop, so I sit out of sight, and I wait. Patience is something I’ve adapted to over the years, and I’ve waited long enough for this fucker. It’s just before sunset when a rusty pick up pulls up outside room 7, intuition tells me it’s him, and I can already feel the satisfied hum in my chest knowing release ain’t far away.
A huge man climbs out of the cab wearing a baseball cap, his beard is longer than I remember it, but it’s him alright.
I’ve come face to face with Chop on more than one occasion when visiting the club. I saw him plenty when I was prospecting in Utah too, but I was a nobody back then and I’ve spent a lot of years learning from Vex since. Then I had Nyx to think about, I couldn’t risk being thrown out of the club. But now, Tobias Saunders doesn’t have his club. He doesn’t even have his pathetic weak son. He has no one, and it’s exactly how he’s gonna leave this world.
Alone.
I watch him go inside, my whole body tense and ready to strike. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for since I was twelve years old, and now a part of me is glad I didn’t kill Tommy the other day, maybe he will be the one who finds him after I’ve finished with him. Then he can carry the burden of losing a parent.
I think about Skid as I cross the street and approach the door, I feel for him, he will never get the satisfaction that I’m about to feel. The fact I fully intended on making him suffer for what he did to his own brother’s old lady won’t be much comfort to Skid, but this is a dog eat dog world, and I’ve been the better hunter.
My hand reaches out and clasps the brass door knob, and I take one final breath before I open the door and unleash mayhem on the man who’s blood I’ve been thirsting for almost twenty years. The vibrating in my inside pocket stops me, and I let out a frustrated huff as I check to see who it is.
Maddy, what the fuck does she want?
“What is it?” I step aside and whisper down the phone, the blood in my veins pumping so fast I feel it in my temples.
“Brax, I think you should get here now.” Something’s off, I can tell from the shake in her voice, it could be Nyx, maybe Jessie. I swear if any fucker’s hurt them. “It’s Grace… I think she might be in trouble.”
A heavy weight drops from my throat to my chest and before I can register what I’m doing, I rush from the motel porch and cross the street toward where I’ve hidden my bike. I start it up and tear back toward the club without giving Tobias Saunders another thought. I’ve waited this long for him, I can wait a little more. What I can’t live with, is anything happening to Gracie.
I’m still feeling bad about what happened with Julian, but not having to be fake anymore relieves a lot of pressure.
I book myself a flight to Florida, where I actually do have a friend from college who I plan on staying with until I can figure out what I want to do.
I still have a few days before I leave, so I decide to get a start on sorting through my parents’ things. Walking into their room isn’t easy. I’ve avoided it since the night I came home from the hospital without them. I even made auntie Justine pick out what clothes they were buried in so I didn’t have to go in there.
When I open the door, it still smells the same, a mixture of Dad’s musky cologne and the lavender bundles Mom hangs in the wardrobe to keep the clothes smelling fresh.
I sit down on the bed, in the same spot where I’d sit and watch Mom get ready for the fancy dinners her and Dad sometimes got invited to. She’d always ask my opinion on her outfit choices, even when I was tiny. It made me feel important. I try my best to refrain from crying, but what happened to them still hasn’t sunk in properly, losing them was hard enough. Knowing it hadn’t been an accident is unbearable.
