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Chapter Thirty-Seven
Maceo
This must be a dream, a horrid nightmare. I keep trying to wake-up, but every time I open my eyes, I’m still stuck in the same empty hell.
My wife and children have been stripped from me. I’ve no idea what’s happening to her, if she’s alive, if she’s okay. Esteban’s record makes me think the worst.
It was a disaster dealing with Pueblo police, riled Hell’s Horsemen, and the fucking FBI. The repetitive questions from the local police and FBI, along with their interrogation tactics, sucked balls.
I wasn’t much use to anyone—my mind was elsewhere, wherever Josephine was. Gauge and Chase were taking the lead, handling the majority of the bullshit while I tried to wrap my head around reality.
When I finally had enough of the harassment—because that was what it was; there was no constructive questioning and/or development—I finally made a call to Governor Warner. This was the same governor who’s daughter had been abducted by Esteban’s men and held ransom, attempting to control the governor to veto bills that would make it harder to bring drugs into the state. My crew rescued Governor Warner’s kid, and he’s been indebted to us since. He called off the dogs and we were able to leave.
Hell’s Hounds lost two men in the scuffle, but they said they went out in a blaze of glory. They walked away believing they won the battle against their competition, while I walked away without the love of my life.
On the ride home I was colder than the environment surrounding me. Gauge kept looking over at me as he drove us back, concern in his green eyes. I avoided all eye contact with my brothers. If I saw their pity, I knew I would lose my shit.
For the three hours we’re traveling back to Fort Collins, I’m dialing the number that Esteban used to call me from. He doesn’t answer.
I dial again and no answer.
Frantic, I call, again and again, hoping for a different result. He never answers.
Chase runs a scan of the number, informing me Esteban’s cell is still on the property of the safe house.
The fucker never used it for anything other than calling that once. He threatened he would force my hand to come to him if I did not come willingly. But I didn’t listen.
I should have listened.
Pride made me overconfident, untouchable.
But Josephine was touchable, and I should have known better.
My arrogance is what got Josephine into this mess. Had I gone to him, then Jo and our boys would be safe.
We get back to Fort Collins late in the night. When we pull onto the compound, Stella runs out into the yard in her nightclothes. When she doesn’t see her daughter among us, she falls to her knees, clutching at her chest. Cries rip from her lungs.
Numbly, I crouch in front of her and take her in my arms. She wails and beats her small fists against my back. I absorb all her anger, all her pain because I failed to protect her daughter. I deserve every blow she dishes out. Jim pulls his wife away from me, back into the warmth of the house.
Jared is on the porch steps, his head in his hands as Ziggy attempts to comfort him. Jared tries to push Ziggy away, but my brother won’t stand for it. He captures Jared’s face in his hands and kisses him. Josephine’s best friend breaks down in harsh sobs in his partner's arms.
Simone stands on the front porch with Punk. They’ve put their difference aside, holding hands tightly, feeling the loss of their sibling. Simone is the first to fall apart. Her arms wrap around her like she’s holding in her pain. Chase rushes the steps, swooping her up in his arms as the first of her tears tumble down her pale face.
Punk is no better. His chest rises and falls rapidly as I walk toward him woodenly. The closer I get, the harder he cries. I know he feels responsible, but he did his job right—none of this is his fault. Before he can flee, I grab him by the front of his shirt and yank him against me, holding him in a brotherly hug. His arms circle me as he wails into my shoulder.
Out of all my brothers, this hits him the hardest. “We have to get her back, Prez.”
“We will,” I vow, squeezing him tighter, though I have no fucking clue where to start. We need a plan, a place, and a time. Packing our gear and heading out to Colombia isn’t going to be enough this round.
Opal holds the door open for us with tears in her eyes. As soon as Gauge walks through the door, he’s crushing her to him. The two of them cling to each other.
Inside headquarters, all my brothers set up shop in the teleconference room. Everyone is brainstorming and throwing out ideas, seeing what sticks. The bunnies come through and push food on us, stating we need our energy to do our jobs right. They stick around, even offering an idea or two.
Darnel and Lloyd stay as well, determined to be involved ‘till the end. Chase calls in reinforcements and Peeping Tom, or PT as we call him, comes in to help the tech team. Good thing we have rooms still available in headquarters.
Our detective friend, Luke Quire, comes and offers his assistance, filling us in on what they suspect happened. Jo’s latest labs reveal she never had gestational diabetes. The theory is Esteban wanted to create a diversion to lure Josephine out. He thought the hospital was a weak spot in our security detail.
Esteban chose a diagnosis that wouldn’t put her at risk, then paid off the technician in the serology lab to enter the data incorrectly, making it appear as if she had gestational diabetes. He knew the diagnosis would have her at the hospital for multiple appointments weekly where he could better track her routine and find the most opportune time to snatch her.
