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I checked the time on my phone. It was after midnight. By the time anyone could get back to Scornrock, the worst could’ve already happened to Ella. I wanted to stay the course and not rush my plans. Capturing Rocky had been my priority for years, but Tomcat made an excellent point, especially if her son was my nephew.
“We’ll get Ella and her son.” I turned toward Libby and Grizzly. “You two go. Take a prospect if you need to.”
“We’ll take Toby,” Grizzly said.
“Fine. The rest of us will figure out a plan to get Rocky before Vegas’s men try to kill him.” I turned my gaze toward Tomcat. “Get talking.”
36
Rocky (RJ)
“Where the fuck are you?” I paced in Ella’s bedroom. After leaving the clubhouse, I went straight to her house and snuck in, without the babysitter or my son noticing.
She should’ve been home hours ago.
It had taken everything in me not to go to the club and tear it apart. I kept hearing her telling me to calm down and not flip out. She’d always been the sensible one, slow to react.
But it was fucking after one in the morning. Was she not returning and leaving the boy with the sitter all fucking night? This was not okay with me.
I dialed Xabier’s number.
“Yeah, boss?”
“Where the fuck are you?”
“Our motel room, why?”
“Ella’s still at the club. I need you to go there and check on her. Find out what she’s doing.” And she better not be doing Vegas. She’d assured me earlier that she would fend him off. I couldn’t handle it if she’d fucked him, not after we were back together.
“Okay. Keeno and I will go check it out. Give us five minutes to get rid of the chicks.”
They’d picked up a couple of women? Good for them. My ears dialed in to a motorcycle approaching the house.
“Hold up. She might be back.” I peeked out of her bedroom window. “Yup, it’s her. Later.” I ended the call.
The bike pulled onto the front lawn. Ella stumbled off and fell. She looked drunk as a skunk when she tried to stand. Vegas was pointing his finger at her. I wished I could hear what the motherfucker was telling her.
Ella nodded and wrapped her arms around her middle. Her clothes were different. She was in sweats, probably because it was cold out.
Vegas left, and I waited impatiently in her room.
Eventually, the sitter left, then it took five to ten more minutes for Ella to enter her room, and when she did, I flew off the bed.
“What the fuck happened?” I assessed her face. A bruise was on her cheek, and her mascara was smeared and streaked, like she’d been crying.
“Why are you here?”
“Excuse me? Because I want to be with my woman.”
She pushed past me and climbed into bed. “I’m not in the mood. Come back tomorrow.” She pulled the blankets up to her neck and closed her eyes.
“Ella, what the fuck happened to you? Why did Vegas hit you?”
“I smarted off to him.”
“I will kill him.”
“Just stop, okay? I’m tired and want to sleep.” She didn’t sound right. Maybe a little hoarse, but that could be from the night air, from her riding on the hog.
