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I didn’t say a word as I caught a few of my brothers looking my way with concern. They lifted brows, and a couple stood when I cursed, distraught with all the wild ideas floating around in my head. Pulling back on the throttle, I sped into the street, heading toward Hwy 95.
“Fuck, babe. Where did you go?” I wondered aloud.
The wind snatched the words from my anxious chest as I swerved around vehicles on the road, weaving in and out of traffic, desperate to find any trace of my woman. She wouldn’t worry me like this. It wasn’t like Cindi to take off without checking in first. Tension rippled along my shoulders.Where the fuck was my ol’ lady?
Thirty minutes later, I found her car parked on the side of the road, heading toward Carson City.
I pulled to a stop behind the SUV, jumping off as I ran to the driver’s side. The doors were shut. No one was inside. No hint of blood or foul play. Not even her purse or phone.
My gaze lowered to the ground as I spotted footprints. Multiple sets that displaced the sand, followed by marks like a pair of shoes had been dragged away from the road.
Among the shoeprints, beside the driver’s side door, a dainty pair I recognized as Cindi’s proved she exited the vehicle willingly. Bike treads also left impressions in the sand beside the SUV. I squeezed my hands into fists. No biker from my club would do this. She didn’t meet up with a brother.
Who would take her?
I had too many fucking enemies to count.
My Reaper didn’t hesitate to push forward, seizing control. Rage and worry battled for domination over my thoughts as I lifted my lip in a snarl.If anyone harmed her . . .
Following the footprints, I found a path cutting through the desert, leading into the unknown.
“I’m coming for you, Cin. I swear, I’ll find you. If anyone hurt you, they’ll meet my fucking Reaper.”
I lifted my chin, settling my sunglasses over my eyes. The blinding glare only bothered me and not the demon who preferred the naked light of day in order to hunt his prey with ruthless precision. The heat of the sun settled across my neck and penetrated the dark leather of my cut, increasing my agitation.
My boots crunched through the weeds, rocks, and sand as I followed the trail, heading farther out into the unforgiving desert. Over an hour later, I still didn’t find Cindi.
Was she kidnapped?
And then I heard the unmistakable and loud, raspy caw of a raven. Above my head, several of the black birds circled in the distance, alerting predators to a dead body.
Panic seized my chest, my lungs refusing to expand for air. No, I wouldn’t believe it.
My heart hammered out a brutal rhythm, thudding in my ears as I sprinted toward the birds. A massive, crooked cactus, stretching so high it dwarfed the surrounding flora, slowly focused into view. Thick, leafless stems covered in prickly spines spread outward, reaching toward the sun.
Lashed to the base by a stout cord of braided nylon rope, I found Cindi’s body. My Reaper’s howl of agony mirrored the torment I felt deep in my blackened soul.
The shock. Fury. Despair.
Overhead, the ravens circled, growing in number.
“You can’t fucking have her!” I shouted, raising a fist toward the sky. “She’s mine! You fucking hear me, you fuckers? You won’t get to her!”
I stayed right in front of her, pulling out my phone to text Grim.
Come quick. Cindi’s dead.
I didn’t bother to wait for a reply, just gave him my location and shoved the cell into one of the pockets of my cut.
With weary, heartbroken eyes, I finally turned around. There, front and center for me to read, a note in black marker stapled to her shirt.
An eye for an eye.
