what that means for me. They’ve insinuated he’s interested in me—that I’m his latest obsession.
Perhaps he’s decided I’m the payment he wants from Trez.
It all creeps me out. But I’m also terrified and sick with worry for my brother. I have no idea what they’ve done with him. They tell me he’ll be fine, but won’t say what that means. I’m afraid they’ve hurt him, possibly even killed him.
I can’t let myself go there. I have to think positively. Everything will be okay. I’ll get out of this, and I’ll find out Trez is okay. I take a deep breath and slowly exhale.
I can’t see out the window from where I’m at, but I haven’t heard any cars, and I’m pretty sure I’m in a remote area. The cabin itself seems to be a rental, just from the furnishings and lack of anything personal. I can’t help wondering how long they intend to keep me here. Which makes me think about what happens when I’m of no more interest or use to them; will they let me go?
My eyes sting at the thought, because I’m sure they won’t let me live to be a witness to their crimes.
I lay my head back down on the bed, wishing they’d at least remove the duct tape around my mouth. I feel fuzzy still from the drug they gave me earlier, but fear and sadness well up inside me. A tear slips down my cheek. I want my father. I want Memphis.
***
Memphis—
We roar up the mountain, and gather half a mile down from one of four cabins that Baja found in the area where he’d narrowed Lola’s location. It’s the only one that was just rented out today.
There are about a dozen of us, including the prospects, one in Rock’s pickup truck, and one with the club’s doctor in a van following behind us. Christ, I hope he’s not needed.
I only had a split-second glance at Mason Lockwood that day at the Capri Motel when I picked up Lola, but our New Orleans Chapter knows all about him, and informed me he’s capable of anything. That makes him dangerous. That makes this whole situation risky as hell. They also informed Rock that they need him alive, and we can’t kill him. I want him dead, but I’ve got to back down on that, and leave the New Orleans Chapter to deal with him. But I can’t help thinking my stray bullet could catch him. I’m sure Rock is thinking the same thing.
We spread out, and take to the woods, knowing the cabin should be just over the ridge. If Trez’ information is correct, there should be a black Escalade parked outside. There’s just enough moonlight to see as we make our way silently through the trees.
We come over the rise to see a medium size log cabin, a big screen porch along one side and definitely a black car in back. I pull out a small pair of binoculars. It’s indeed a Cadillac Escalade. Rock motions with his hand, and we take up positions, spreading out around the structure.
I spot at least two entrances, not counting the screened in porch. Rock and Darko move along the west side, and Utah sneaks along the porch, running bent over. I head toward the east side, pressing my back to the wall. Royal Bastards with guns take up positions all around.
I spot Trez as he steps out from behind a tree, playing the part we planned, drawing Lockwood and his goons’ attention while we try to gain access.
“Hey Lockwood. Come on out. I’ve got your damn statue. Let’s make a trade.”
He holds up a jade statue, waving it over his head. It’s jade and about the same size, but its not the right statue. Rock sent men scouring every damn collector shop and pawnshop in Durango before we left, searching for something that was visually close enough to work as bait.
The door to the porch creaks, and a hand holding a gun sticks out. “You got balls, kid. Bring it here.”
I’m betting that’s not Lockwood, but one of his men. I move toward the back door as a shot rings out. Glancing back, I see Trez fall. With that, Royal Bastards open fire from the trees.
I duck around back, trying not to get caught in the crossfire. I scan the cabin’s back door, and hear it suddenly open. I stop, my jaw clenching tight like steel as I melt into the shadows behind a shrub. Panic