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“Them” being Myen and Dennis.
They proved to not be anywhere near as stupid as they seemed that day I’d been tracking their location. At this point, she was a quality opponent.
I was searching for her everywhere, using every single ounce of power and knowledge at my disposal. And she was trying her very hardest to stay hidden.
The only consolation that I had was that she couldn’t use any modern conveniences like a cell phone or a computer, or hell, even her own bank cards. She couldn’t go home, couldn’t access any of the money in her bank account, including the small sum from her father’s death benefit. She couldn’t do anything that she was used to, and I knew it was grating on her.
Meanwhile, the moment she touched any of that again, we’d find her and pin her down.
We being Hunt and me.
Though their search had gone dry in upstate New York, where they’d found Dennis and Myen’s ditched cell phones, computers, IDs and bank cards, they hadn’t stopped looking for me.
Each time we got a new lead, they went out and investigated it.
Not their whole crew because the Souls Chapel Revenants MC had their own families and lives, but one of them did.
Though, our crew had also decided to forgo their inaction on the matter and had also started following up on leads.
Funny enough, Cassius, who’d been the one to tell everyone to be calm and think clearly during Kobe’s surgery, had been the first one to follow up on a lead.
When he’d come up empty-handed, he’d been overly annoyed.
Like the rest of us, he wanted the people that’d hurt his friend off the streets and unable to live their lives. Not necessarily dead, but detained in a way where their lives were no longer livable the way they wanted to live them.
“No new updates on their whereabouts today,” I admitted.
The last sighting of them had come from an anonymous tip that I’d followed up with and confirmed that it was, in fact, them. The anonymous tip had come from Myen’s friend, whom I’d leaned heavily on, to let her know just how serious this matter was.
In the end, Myen’s friend had turned on her and given her last known location to me via an anonymous tip line I’d set up on the dark web, offering a cash reward to anyone that knew of her location.
Funny enough, anytime that tip came to me and was true, I’d give them said cash reward right out of Myen’s bank account. It was only fair, after all.
He caught my hand in his, then tugged it lightly.
I leaned forward and set my phone on the edge of his rolling food tray, then stood and made my way toward his bedside.
When I was close enough, he said the exact opposite of what I expected of him. “I’m so horny I could cry.”
I blinked at him.
During the weeks that had followed his shooting, I’d purchased an eye patch for him. One, because he requested it, and two because they said the visual reminder of it would help his brain overcome his new handicap.
Now, he looked like a sexy pirate with his overly long hair and eyepatch. His beard, which was never really “there” to begin with, always more like a five-o’clock shadow than an actual beard, was in full force now.
I allowed my gaze to flow down the length of his body, stopping on the tented sweatpants.
“Umm,” I said, unsure of what to do.
I mean, of course, I would totally take him inside of me if we were at home and he was okay and not still recovering in a hospital, but we weren’t any of those things. And it wasn’t like I could forgo his physical well-being for his mental well-being.
Just as I thought that, the physical therapist came in and flashed her smile at us.
Kobe groaned, and I literally watched as his erection faded into nothing.
If he hated being in the hospital, it was because of this chick.
Not that Patty, the sixty-year-old physical therapist that was helping him relearn a few things, was horrible or anything. But she was a taskmaster and didn’t take his whining to heart. She worked him until he couldn’t work anymore, and he hated her for it.
