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I mean to say thanks, or maybe I do say it. All I know is that I’m in my car, driving as fast as I can to the club. Speed limits be damned. Rules, don’t give a shit. Laws, fuck off.
I need to get to Samantha.
I pull up to the club in minutes and am surprised to see two cars still in the lot. One is Jim’s, one is Samantha’s.
A horrifying thought pops into my mind unbidden.
Could Jim have done something to Samantha? She always talks about how guys are two-faced, acting friendly and non-threatening, and then turning. Jim has certainly befriended Samantha. It’s always seemed paternal, but maybe I missed something? Is he a wolf in sheep’s clothing?
There’s a cold pit in my stomach as I throw the car in park and run for the front door. It opens easily, which it shouldn’t do. It should be locked, just like the alarm should be armed, but neither have been done.
“Samantha! Jim!” I yell, and my voice echoes back to me in the empty space.
“Unnnngh...” A groan sounds out from the far side of the desk.
Running that direction, I see Jim on the floor. “Oh, my God, Jim! What happened?”
He’s trying to move, but his face is contorted in pain and his jaw is locked tight. “Sa... man... tha...” he stutters out.
I realize he’s trying to point down the hall and sprint that way.
“No, no, no, no...” I say over and over. I don’t know what I’m saying no about, but nothing can have happened to her. I need her to be okay. “Samantha!”
In the room she holds her sessions in, I spy her phone and bag on the table. But it’s otherwise empty. No Samantha.
Running back to Jim, I find Carter and Luna standing next to him and my other brothers and Kayla coming in.
“What’re you doing here?” I say, but I don’t wait for an answer. “Jim! What happened?”
“I’ve already called 9-1-1,” Kayla says. “He keeps saying Samantha and I think Stephen? Or maybe it’sSamStephen? I don’t know, he’s slurring pretty badly.”
“That’s how he always talks,” I tell her as I drop closer to him, turning my ear toward his mouth so I can listen carefully. “Say it again, Jim. Who was here?”
“Sa-me-than,” he mumbles.
“See? Does that make sense to you?” Kayla asks.
Confused, I say, “Stephen? They might’ve had a counseling appointment? I don’t know her schedule.”
Jim makes a noise, and Cameron kneels down, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Try to be quiet. Help’s on the way. I think you’re having a heart attack.”
But Jim’s not having it. He takes a big breath, the pain causing his left shoulder to lift up almost to his ear. “Stun. Gun. Took. Her.”
There’s a beat where we all hear what he said without processing it, and then...
I get right in Jim’s face. Nose to nose, I look in his eyes. “Stephen took Samantha? He stun gunned you? Is that what you’re saying?” I demand urgently.
Despite the pain, he’s clear-eyed and fights to nod. “Tried to stop him.”
“Oh, my God,” Luna gasps.
The reality of the situation has become so much worse. Samantha isn’t missing. She’s been kidnapped.
“I’m calling 9-1-1 back to let them know we need the police,” Kayla says.
“I’ll call her mom,” Luna says.
This is my fault. I brought her here to help these guys, told her she’d be safe when she warned me that there’s no such thing, and exposed her to a threat none of us saw coming. And now?
