Fanning the Biker's Flame - Piper Davenport Page 0,52
if you don’t let me go to the bathroom alone.”
He swore but dragged me up off the bed and hauled me into the tiny powder room behind the stairs. The toilet was up against a brick wall and there was a pedestal sink opposite it.
“Be quick.”
I turned my back to him and waved my hands. “Can you take these off? Just for now? It’s not like I can go anywhere.”
“Jesus, you’re a whiny bitch.”
He pulled a huge hunting knife out of his jeans pocket and sliced off one side of the zip tie. The pain of the blood rushing back to my hands was excruciating, but I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out.
He pulled the door closed and I immediately pressed the button on the necklace before doing my thing and washing my hands, the water stinging the open wounds caused by the plastic.
“I’m coming in,” Frederick warned, pushing open the door.
* * *
Shadow
The alarm of Posey’s GPS sounded, and I immediately grabbed my phone. “She hit her panic button!” I bellowed. “Let’s roll.”
Shutter and I made a run for one of the trucks.
“I’ll drive,” I growled.
“You’ll navigate,” he corrected. “The last thing we need is you slamming the truck into a tree because you’re distracted.”
“You better fuckin’ speed.”
“Get in.”
We jumped into the cab, and I gave him directions as we drove to Posey. We had a dozen bikers following with Doc and Alamo bringing up the rear in another truck. Whoever this asshole was, he was gonna wish for death by the time we got done with him.
Posey’s signal led us to a quiet residential neighborhood full of older homes, perfectly manicured lawns, and a lot of American flags flying out the front of the houses. It looked like a place someone’s grandparents lived.
“We can’t pull in here like this, brother,” Shutter said, guiding the truck to the side of the road. “We’ll stick out like a whore in church.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m goin’ in on foot. You coordinate the others.”
“Shadow, you can’t go in there alone.”
“Then you better coordinate fast.”
I was out of the truck and following Posey’s signal within seconds, walking as calmly as I could, hoping no one would get squirrely about the biker strolling down their streets and call the cops.
I arrived at the place Posey was. Or at least, her necklace was, and I slid my gun out of my holster, knocking quietly on the door. It squeaked as it opened slightly, and I could smell death.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I shook my head. I couldn’t lose my focus now. I needed to get to Posey.
Staring straight ahead, my foot connected with something that nearly had me losing my balance. I glanced down to see the corpse of an elder woman, blood covering her face and neck, and a bloody knife beside her.
That was the death smell.
I tried to take comfort in the fact it wasn’t Posey, but I’d only seen a couple of dead bodies in my time and it was an open casket at someone’s funeral where the mortician had put makeup and shit on their face so they didn’t look so… well, dead.
This woman’s eyes were open, one was looking straight ahead, the other slightly to the side and her mouth was open in obvious shock. I shook off the chill of someone walking over my grave and continued on.
“Shadow,” Alamo hissed.
“Here,” I whispered.
I heard the feet of my brothers as they walked as quietly as one could in motorcycle boots.
“You find her?” Doc asked.
“Not yet.”
“Most of the houses in this area have basements,” Doom said. “Dad’s done a lot of work down here.”
We moved as quietly as we could through the house, clearing each room, and my heart was sinking with every step until I heard the distinct whistle by Doom. I made my way toward the sound and found the door at the back of the kitchen open. Doom nodded toward it and I took the lead, inching down the stairs, my gun at the ready, my brothers at my back.
“Posey?” I whispered.
I heard a squeak and mumbling and turned the corner to find Posey on an iron bed, blindfold, gagged, and ziptied to the rails. “Fuck!”
I holstered my gun and rushed to her, cutting her ties and helping her with the gag, which was so tightly wrapped, the corners of her mouth were cut.
She cried out, throwing her arms around me and I lifted her, carrying her up the stairs and out the door.
“Who did