a solution came to me before he returned. And to hope that, wherever Sara was, she was safe and unharmed, that His Holy Peace hadn’t found her.
A full week after the incident with Gary, I’d been losing myself in working the tables when Tequila called me over to the bar. She held out her cell phone to me.
I stare at her in shock. Spider had always gone out of his way to avoid allowing me access to a phone. Then I realize.
“Spider?” I drawl, rolling my eyes.
“Nope,” Tequila says with a smile. “Ben wants to talk to you.”
I smile back and take the phone from her, pushing myself onto a stool at the bar. “Hello?”
“Hi, Emma.” Ben’s voice sounds relieved. “Are you okay?”
“Hi, tough guy.”
His sweet voice is like a light shining into a world that’s become almost constantly dark.
“I’m fine,” I add. Worry for him creeps in. Gary is still out there. He wouldn’t try to take him while he’s at the White Springs clubhouse, surrounded by bikers, would he? “How’s things going with you?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds casual.
“I’m great,” he says, brightening. “Mom’s coming home from the hospital today. I called to tell Spider, but he isn’t there, so I asked to talk to you. Are you coming back to White Springs? I want to see you again.”
I put my hand over my constricting chest. This kid’s so adorable, it kills me. “Oh, sweetheart. I don’t know. I—”
“Come back,” he says with that same air of inflexibility with which he’d told me I was going with him to see his mom. “I won’t take no for an answer.”
My mouth drops, and I stifle laugh, wondering which of the White Springs guys he’s emulating. Someone laughs in the background, and it sounds like Jules.
“Is that so?” I chortle. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to ask Spider if we’re planning to go back then, huh?”
“Yep. I’ll hold you to that.”
There’s a beeping sound from the phone.
“Oh, it’s the other line,” Tequila says when I tell her.
“Ben, I have to go. Hopefully we’ll talk again soon, okay?”
We say goodbye and I hand the phone back. Tequila answers the other line.
“Rat, why are you calling me?” she says rolling her eyes in put upon annoyance. “Why don’t you just come out to the bar and get something like a normal person if you’re hungry?” She pauses and sighs. “Fine, I’ll send it over now.” She hangs up. “Lazy-ass. We’re packed right now, and he wants me to wait on him hand and foot.”
“If he wants something, I’ll bring it to him,” I offer, getting off the stool.
“Thanks.” She grabs a tray and opens a beer for him, putting it on the tray along with a bag of Doritos and a couple of pickled eggs from the top of the bar.
“Were you supposed to let me have a phone call?” I ask her worriedly, not wanting to get her into trouble with Spider.
She shrugs. “Jules has been saying that Ben’s been driving her nuts worrying about you. What Spider doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
I squeeze her hand, my heart feeling full.
“Here.” She hands me the tray for Rat. “He’s in his Control Room.”
“Where is that?”
“Down that hall.” She points to the corridor at the back of the bar. “To the left of the chapel.”
Making my way down the hall, I balance the tray on my palm. It’s a lot easier to do that than it had been when I’d started at The Devil’s Den what now feels like years ago. Back then, the open beer bottle would have ended up smashed on the carpet within two steps.
Passing the chapel, I glance at the big wooden double doors. I still have no idea why the men call the room that. The name makes no sense.
Out of the room next to it, loud music plays, the base thumping to the beat of an unfamiliar song. Rat’s voice belts out the lyrics, singing along, laughably off key. I smirk.
“Rat?” I say tentatively, knocking on the door. I’ve never been in this room, and other than the few hours at the diner after I was rescued, I haven’t spent much time with Rat. He hasn’t said much to me except for a few words exchanged here and there, and I don’t know him very well.
He doesn’t answer, and he’s still singing along. Probably can’t hear me.
Unsure what else to do, I open the door and slip inside. I don’t see him in the