Page 49 of Demon

Demon crouched down, holding up his fist in the air. He instantly heard Zion stop dead in his tracks. It was a good thing Zion tagged along since this night would probably end up in a ground fight.

There were no windows to shoot. Just one unhinged door standing in between them and the fuckers inside. He noticed the chimney pipe in the back, but that was all he could guess about the inside layout. He hoped they didn’t keep Cat close to the door.

Going inside was a suicide mission. Not only for him and Zion.

He could never know if he endangered Cat by busting through that door. There’s one thing he knew for certain, though: he couldn’t stand around and do nothing for a minute longer.

“You’re with me?” he whispered.

Zion instantly said, “Always, brother. Let’s kill some Strong Rider pussies.”

Demon got up from his crouching position and ran towards the cabin, shifting his torso at the last second, ramming his shoulder against the rotten wooden door.

The door fell immediately to the ground, as he predicted. But instead of being shot at or attacked by fists; he was met with silence. Zion entered the cabin with his gun drawn, pausing his enormous biker boots on the fallen door.

“Shit,” Zion said.

Demon put a finger against his lips, nudging his head to the side toward the smoldering fire in the fireplace. They may not be here right now, but they were not that long ago.

Demon passed Zion and walked outside and around the cabin. Under a fishing net camouflaged with leaves, he found a dark van and a Fat Bob that looked awful familiar. He racked his brain but couldn’t place the bike, and frankly, he had better things to do right now.

“Call it in, brother,” Demon said, already sensing Zion behind him.

“Done,” Zion said with his phone in hand.

“Let’s get back inside, push the door closed, and wait them out for a bit. They left in a hurry since they left the fire on.”

“I think you’re right, D.”

Demon entered the cabin and on closer inspection found a dirty rag in the left-hand corner, reeking of bile and a unique sour scent. He didn’t want to do it, but he leaned in and smelled the rag.

Ouzo.

“Cat was here. She’d been drinking ouzo with my sisters.”

“Shit, brother. Where is she now?” Zion said as he took eight steps and reached the other end of the hut while searching the floor for other signs that Cat had been here.

Zion crouched and swept his thumb over the wooden planks.

“Blood,” he said.

A cold sweat broke out all over Demon’s skin while his heart raced against his chest. He swallowed his dry throat before he asked, “How much?”

“Just a few drops.”

Demon’s ears drummed while he tried to calm down. He could lose it once he’d found her. Not now.

“You okay, D?”

“When we find them, you need to get her out of here. She doesn’t need to see what happens next, okay?”

Zion picked up the front door and hung it back on the one hinge. “Can’t promise you anything. We all saw how good it did Brass Balls to get a piece of her attacker.”

Demon never wanted to punch a brother as much as he did now.

“You don’t understand.”

Zion held his gaze. “Oh, I understand. You don’t have the final say in this, brother. Cat has.”

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