Hacking the Biker's Code (Dogs of Fire Savannah Chapter #6) - Piper Davenport Page 0,40
Rabbit asked, picking up my heavy bag.
I raised an eyebrow. “I need to be prepared.”
“Did you pack something sexy and a pair of heels?”
“No. Should I?”
“Yeah, baby, just in case we decide to go somewhere fancy.”
I sighed, stepping into the closet and finding a dress and heels that I didn’t wear often. I carried them with me to my car, and Rabbit loaded the rest for me.
Since he’d driven with me to the shop this morning, the driver’s seat was all jacked up, so it took me a minute to get situated and he waited behind me on his bike.
Once I was good, I pulled out of my parking space and drove toward the garage exit. As we drove to the barn, I glanced behind me a few times and Rabbit was pretty much riding my ass. I smiled. Even on his bike, he protected me.
Unfortunately, I caught a green just as someone pulled in front of Rabbit and it looked like he was stuck at the red.
I looked back to see him waving me on, but when I reached the gates of the compound, I noticed he was no longer behind me at all, and although I didn’t freak out immediately, I couldn’t figure out where he’d gone.
The gates opened and I drove through, pulling over to the side of the driveway and jumping out of my car.
“What the fuck are you doin’, Parker?” Mouse bellowed, jogging toward me.
“Rabbit’s not behind me.”
“Babe, get away from the gates so I can close ’em.”
“He was right behind me,” I snapped, trying to call him. “Something’s wrong.”
“Jesus, you’re out of his sight for two minutes and you freak?”
“Listen here, Ratatouille, Rabbit was right behind me. Like at my bumper. He got stopped at a red light, but he should have been close.” I threw my hands in the air. “Something’s wrong!”
“Okay,” he said with a sigh. “Still want you inside the gates. Rabbit can take care of himself.”
“Give me a minute.”
“Why the fuck are the gates still open?” Alamo bellowed, stalking toward us.
“Rabbit’s missing,” I said.
“He’s a little late,” Mouse countered.
“He was right behind me,” I said, again, and closed the distance between me and Alamo. “Something’s not right. You have to find him.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Come inside. We’ll see what we can find out.” He turned to Mouse. “Grab Shadow and go look. Retrace Parker’s steps.”
Mouse had been to my home several times, so I gave a quick Reader’s Digest recap, then followed Alamo inside.
* * *
Rabbit
I remember losing Parker at a red light, then total darkness. For how long, I’m not sure, but I was out long enough to be bound, gagged, and taken to an undisclosed location.
“He’s waking up,” a man’s voice said. “Take his hood off.”
Looking around while my eyes adjusted to the light, I found myself inside of a large shipping container. From the looks of it, it had been converted into some sort of bomb shelter. Two men stood on either side of the chair I found myself tied to. A clean-cut man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, wearing a suit, and a huge biker with long dirty blond hair and a scruffy beard. Neither man was familiar to me and in the low light, I was unable to make out the biker’s name or his club’s patch.
“Get his mouth, too,” the well-dressed man said, and the biker removed my gag before taking a step back.
Both men paused, as if waiting for me to say something, but I remained silent as I quickly studied my surroundings. The place looked like something straight out of the nineteen sixties. The avocado green walls were lined with industrial shelves piled high with canned goods, batteries, and survival gear. There was a small kitchenette in one corner, at the far end. Where we were, was set up as living space, complete with shag carpet, sofa, and a kidney-shaped coffee table. Atop the table were a few books, a glass ashtray the size of my head, and a red Bakelite rotary phone. I’m not sure who the builder of this shelter was planning on calling in the dead of nuclear winter, but I somehow found this sign of optimism comforting.
The well-dressed man stood, arms crossed, slightly smiling, but saying nothing. The biker, on the other hand, seemed irritated by my silence, and his scowl intensified as the moments passed until he finally broke.
“Goddammit,” he growled, plunging his hand into his pocket.