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“You good now?” Dagger stood with his hands on his hips, his face made of stone. His VP was a lot of things; a son of a bitch, a brother, a husband, a father, a cheater once upon a time, a constant cut up. But the one thing he was above all others was a vengeful man when it came to his family and club. Two of the Sons’ females being kidnapped out from under their noses did not sit well with him. He wouldn’t rest until they were brought home safe and sound.
“Yeah. I’m good.” He took the shot Lance was holding out toward him. He tossed it back and reveled in the burn. That was the only drink he would allow himself until he had his girls back home.
His attention was brought back to the present as the door swung open and in marched Preacher with his second in command, Levi. His gaze scanned the room and stopped when they settled on Race. He stomped a straight line to where he was sitting at a round table with a few of his men, the rest scattered about the room. He stopped when he was directly across from him. His hands fisted at his sides and his eyes sparked with aggression.
His appearance today was almost troubling. It spoke volumes of how truly worried the man was regarding Bellamy’s disappearance and his grandmother’s current condition. Instead of his impeccably groomed, well-dressed self, he was wearing jeans, an untucked button-down shirt and biker boots. His hair looked as if he’d been running his fingers through it for hours.
“What the fuck is going on in this town? I thought since you were fucking my sister you would keep her safe.” He shook his head and mumbled under his breath, “I knew I should have put my own guard on her whether she wanted one or not.”
“You knew we were fucking?” Race’s eyes squinted, not happy to hear Preacher was privy to his personal life.
“Of course I knew you were fucking. Very little to do with my family is unknown to me.” Race had to wonder if Preacher had a man on the inside of his club. Before now, he would never have considered it. Now? Who the hell knew?
“Preacher, have a seat.” Race motioned for the chair directly across from him. The rest of the brothers made their way over, either finding seats at the table or at one of the surrounding tables.
Preacher took a seat and Levi remained standing behind him, his arms crossed over his chest. The man always had the drug lord’s back. “What do we know? Who took them? How long have they been gone?”
A muscle in Race’s jaw ticked, waiting for the man to give him a chance to speak. He understood that he was worried, but he wasn’t in charge here. This was the Sons of Redemption MC and Race was the president. What he said and did was law around here. He’d allowed him here as a courtesy. He could have very well left him out of things altogether.
“First of all, you need to cool your jets. You might be in charge in Lost Junction, but here, in my clubhouse, I’m in charge. I called you out of respect because Bellamy is your sister and Martha is your grandmother. We could have just as easily kept you in the dark.” Race leveled his gaze on Preacher.
A flicker of something sparked in his eyes. He was sure it was anger at the way Race was speaking to him, but he also thought maybe it might be a little respect as well.
“What we know so far is that three hours ago, two men came into Bellamy’s store looking for her. Martha tried to intervene and was shot. They took Bellamy and my oldest girl, Liza. We know this much because my youngest girl, Shannon, was able to get out and Cathy confirmed it. When they were leaving out the back door, one of them told Cathy to tell me they’d be in touch.”
“Be in touch?” Preacher leaned forward, his forearms resting on the table. “Are you thinking Jacob Jacobson or do you have someone else trying to fuck with you?
“It has to be Jacob Jacobson. We’ve had some issues with the Phantom Furies MC, but none of their guys would be dressed the way these two men taking my girls were dressed. So far with Phantoms, it’s just been them testing our boundaries.” Race motioned for Jed to slide some pictures across the table for Preacher to check out. “We were able to get some pictures of the two men off Bellamy’s security cameras before the police arrived. We also deleted that particular footage so we won’t have to worry about the police getting in the way of bringing these fuckers a little biker justice.”
Jed slid a couple of pictures across the table for Preacher to examine. Everyone watched as he picked them up and took a good long look at each of them. Levi’s eyes squinted at the corners and a muscle ticked in his jaw as he looked at them over his boss’s shoulder.
“Fuck. Should’ve known.” He tossed the pictures to the middle of the table. “Those two goons work for Jacob Jacobson.”
“Son of a bitch,” Trick groaned and fell back in his seat. “Kurtis Black is the gift that keeps on giving.”
“Okay. So we know the ‘who.’ Now where the hell would he take them?” Dagger asked.
Jackson pulled his phone from his pocket as it started to ring. “Yeah?” He frowned as he listened to whoever was on the other end of the line. “Lock the gate and bring it in.” He disconnected and stuck his phone back in his pocket. “That was the front gate. Someone just pulled up and tossed out an envelope. They said to give it to you. Now. Tuck’s bringing it in.”
What the fuck now? Race already had enough shit to deal with, he didn’t need anymore. Could he be so unlucky that the Phantom Furies would be making a play at the same time as Jacob Jacobson?
The door swung open and Tuck entered. He scanned the crowd until his eyes landed on Race. He immediately moved his direction, handing the package over. He took a seat at a neighboring table.
On the front of the padded envelope it read “OPEN NOW” in big, bold, black Sharpie colored letters.
Race pulled his knife from his scabbard at his side and sliced the end open. He dumped it upside down and watched as a cellphone and a white slip of paper fell to the table. He picked up the note, read it to himself then again out loud. “Push speed dial 1.” He looked around the table, making eye contact with everyone and hit and held the number one until it started ringing. He put it on speakerphone and waited.
“Race. I’m so happy you called.”
The man spoke as if they were long lost friends. “You know who I am. Who are you?”
“Ah. No pleasantries. Straight to the point. I like that. My name is Jacob.”
Race cut him off. “You’re Kurtis Black’s boss.”
“Yes. That is correct.” The man’s cultured speech grated on Race’s nerves.
“What do you want?”
