King shakes his head. “We’ve still got both your backs.”
“They’re fucking cowards,” Saint shouts. “Taking a woman.”
Switch nods. “Makes no sense they didn’t come for us first.”
Clutch grabs his phone. “We should call in reinforcements. Want me to call the Allentown chapter, see how quickly they can hit the road?”
I shake my head. “Sure. But it’s still too long.”
“I’ll start calling in nomads, see who’s close by,” King says, but I reach out for his phone.
It sticks in my throat to say it, but I know who can help us with men fast. “Cillian.”
King and Clutch both look at me as if I’ve lost my mind.
“I know. But if he cares about his niece at all, he’ll help. Because I can’t sit here and do nothing.”
King looks down at his phone and scrolls back. “What day did Iris get shot?”
“Twenty-fifth of August,” Clutch says. “The day I realized I was in love with Gwen.”
King rolls his eyes. “I called Cillian for Iris. I have his number.”
As soon as he dials, I take the phone out of his hands. “I’ll speak with him.”
“King,” Cillian says, his Irish lilt grating. “You’ve got fucking nerve calling me.”
“It’s Spark. A trafficking group took Iris. We need manpower to find her. You’re closest.”
“Where are you?”
“Iris’s house. But we’re circling out now to find her. We’ll text you.”
“Probably better, because if I see you, I’ll peel the skin from your fucking balls myself for losing her.”
“You motherfucker. You don’t give a real shit about Iris, or you wouldn’t have played her the way you have.”
“And maybe my cause isn’t dictated by the whims of women. You’ve gone weak. But I’ll come for my niece because she never got taken on my watch.”
“I’ll kill you first, you—”
“Stop,” King shouts, grabbing the phone off me. “It’s King. We’ve got a few start points. Come in wide when you cross into Jersey. I’ll text you everything we have.”
Halo stomps up the steps. “Got the plates from her neighbor. She also called the cops, so we need to get the fuck outta here.”
I walk away, then punch the doorframe three times. The pain barely registers. I’ll kill the ones who took her. I’ll kill the ones who stop me from finding her. I’ll kill Cillian if he gets in my way.
Clutch pulls me into his embrace. “Easy, brother,” he encourages. “I know what it’s like when your woman’s at risk. She needs the skills you have right now. Not this.”
I let my forehead drop onto his shoulder for a minute. My brothers have my back. And he’s right. She doesn’t need this.
“You good?” he asks when I step away.
I nod once.
“Cillian and his men are checking the highways heading northeast as they make their way here. ETA within the hour,” King says.
“That fucker threatened to kill me,” I say. “He can choke on shit. It was a mistake to call him.”
King grabs the back of my neck. “The only important thing now is Iris. And the best way to find her, since neither of us has her, is to work together to get her back. Working. Together.”
I hate that he’s right. “Fuck. Fine. Let’s go.”
“This isn’t a club vote,” King says, stepping out onto the porch to address the members who followed us here. “You don’t have to come. But I’m going with Spark.”
Clutch steps forward. “I’m riding with you.”
“Little chick’s one of us,” Switch says. “I’m in.”
“God himself will kill tens of thousands if it pleases him, Samuel 6:19 King James version,” Saint says, but his voice sounds rough. “I’m with you, brother. I’ll help you kill ’em all.”
One by one, everyone steps forward.
“Let’s ride,” King says.
Within minutes, Halo has taken over. Locations have been identified and small groups of riders dispatched. Two prospects race towards Bethlehem to see if the van is headed back to the sleazebag who harassed Iris at the cafe. Pairs split over the main roads out of Asbury Park, while Vex works on the plates to get us an address.
The rest are returning to the club to arm up to hit the warehouse.
And all the while, I keep up the litany.
Keep her safe for me.
Keep her safe for me.
Keep her safe for me.
Because I don’t think I’ll be able to survive if she isn’t.
35
IRIS
Rope digs into my wrists, burning them when I try to wiggle free. My brace has been removed and discarded. Everything aches. I’m in a bright room, not that I can see anything. There’s a tiny gap beneath my blindfold that is letting in light. Wherever I am, I’m not alone.
The sound of sobs echoes around me. I want to join them.
Panic rises again. My head throbs so badly it’s a whooshing in my ears.
Fear tastes metallic in my mouth.
Time has become a blur, and all I can hope is that Vex got the alarm, and Spark figures out where I am—fast.
I don’t know where my phone is.
“When is the goddamn van arriving?” a man mutters.
A whisper of a breeze blows briefly over my knees, then stops. A door opening maybe. I’m sitting on cold concrete. It’s dusty beneath my fingers, where they dangle behind my back.
“Hello?” I whisper.
A loud bang ricochets off what I assume are corrugated walls, like a mill or factory.
“Shh,” the person nearest to me hisses. Another mutters a word in a language I don’t understand. There are at least five of us that I can tell.
I wiggle my nose to see if I can inch the blindfold up a fraction. It takes many attempts, but finally I’m able to make out three pairs of feet beneath chairs around a table.
“Up,” someone yells from behind me. My arms are wrenched in their sockets, and I cry out in pain as I stumble to my feet.
“Quiet.” The voice is different.
I can’t see again; the blindfold has dropped. My feet scream in agony as I’m dragged to what seems like the other side of the building. When I get there, the ropes tying my hands are pulled above my head. The pain in my wrist makes me gag. It hasn’t had enough time to heal yet. My feet leave the ground just for a moment, and then I settle back onto the balls of my feet. Every part of me is stretched.
I spin slightly, unable to put enough weight on my feet to remain stationary.
Hands slide beneath my blouse. The fingertips are smooth, unlike Spark’s calloused hands. A cold sweat covers me.
“Don’t,” I plead. I try to move away, but I lose my footing and start to spin.
A man chuckles. “You aren’t in a position to ask. You’re ours to do what we want with.” For kicks, he shoves me hard in the stomach, and the simple act of flinching takes my toes off the ground, making me swing again. I sob because my arms feel as though they are being ripped from my body.