“He slipped up,” Duty informs the table. “He’s clever, and Preacher’s right, I doubt he’ll do that again. It was pure luck on our part, the door closed immediately after we got the location ping. Hopefully he’ll think it was too fast for anyone to get a handle on it.”
I consider myself one of the best in the business, yet even I’d once slipped up, forgetting momentarily to cloak where I was. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that Gun also fucked up. Even so, I can’t keep quiet.
“It could be a trap.”
I’m not the only one to think it, but as the discussion flows, the brothers, the patched members who’ll make the decisions, seem to believe it’s worth checking out. Preacher’s need for going in heavy is explained, mindful it could be as I’d suggested, a trap, They need to be prepared for anything.
“I want to go,” I state. Surely I’ve got a right? It’s down to Gun that I’m next to useless, and I may have lost the only woman I want in my life. As for Cat? She’s got to live with what’s happened to her. I have to do what little I can to make things right.
“You’re staying here, Prospect. First, you’d be a liability in any fight. And second, you’ve got a woman who needs you here.”
I open my mouth and shut it. Much as I hate it, he’s right.
“We’ll leave the old-timers here at the clubhouse. You do whatever the fuck they say, Stormy. Grinch will be in charge.”
And doesn’t that burn in my gut? Again, though, what option have I got but to raise and dip my head in resigned agreement? This could be a test. One sign I’m not toeing the line, and I won’t be a prospect anymore.
“Preacher?” Snatcher prompts the sergeant-at-arms.
“Flight time’s two hours. I want to hit hard, fast and undercover of darkness. Wheels up in an hour.”
I’m torn. I wish I was going, wish I could have input at least. I want to know whether the intention is to take Gun alive and bring him back so we can get answers. But being a prospect means I won’t be involved, I’m only at this meeting on sufferance. Gun’s punishment won’t be at my hands, I may not even know about it.
Fuck, being a prospect is hard. I have to trust these men to do what I’m not allowed. There’s no point appealing to Snatcher, I signed up for this when I walked out, leaving my cut without a backward glance.
Cat. Focus on Cat. She’s what’s important.
As the full members waste no time, standing, pushing chairs back under the table and walking out, I turn and reach for my crutches. Getting them under my arms, I lever myself up.
Pip’s hanging back as though waiting for me.
“Six months, Stormy. That will go fast.”
At least I’ve a chance to be a member again if I don’t act in character and fuck this up. Pip, with his prosthetic legs, has no such chance. For the first time I wonder whether the loss of his cut hit him hard.
“You going to San Diego?”
He shakes his head, “No. I’ll be supporting from this end.”
I want to ask whether I can help him, but can only resolve to do anything I’m asked. I’m just a prospect, excluded from everything.
35
Cat…
Whether it had been Swift’s presence at the table, knowing she’d take no shit from anyone, or just that the conversation had been kept lighthearted, I’d relaxed at dinner, and surprisingly eaten everything on my plate.
While I’d been captive they’d not treated me like a human, food was scarce and unappetising when or if it appeared. That the gourmet plates were tasty but tiny probably helped. I’d eaten more than I had at any point during the past three weeks. The consequence being, when I returned to Finn’s room, I couldn’t stop yawning.
I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I did.
I was back there. The Master was pinning me down, forcing himself on me. I screamed, and as I’d done the first time, before he beat me so badly, I fought. I got free, but it was like running in treacle, he was catching up with me.
I cried for help until my voice was hoarse, begged for mercy, for him to let me go.
He kept on coming, closer and closer, I could feel his warmth, smell his fetid breath, and all the time I knew he’d beat me so cruelly…
“Cat. Cat, babe. Wake up.”
He grabbed hold of my shoulder… Not again! Summoning up all the strength I have, I throw him off.
“Oomph.”
Something about the voice breaks into my subconscious. I open my eyes to see Finn lying like an overturned turtle on his back on the floor by the side of the bed.
“Finn!” My emotions might be all over the place as far as he is concerned, but he’s injured, and I’ve just knocked him over. I slide off the bed full of regret. “Finn, are you alright?”
His eyes examine me, then he gives a half-smile. “Not the first time you’ve knocked me off my feet, Cat.”
“I didn’t mean to, I…”
“You were having a nightmare. I should have been more fuckin’ careful about how I woke you up. But fuck, Cat, I didn’t want you back there.”
If anyone knows how to wake me from bad dreams, it should be him. Only this time, he can’t do it with a gentle touch or by pulling me into his arms. My stupid mind equates a man’s touch with his.
Gingerly I reach out a shaking hand to help him up, but he does it himself, pushing his weight against his one working hand until he’s sitting up. “He’s dead, Cat. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
“But Gun can,” I admit. “What if Gun finds out where I am?”
He stares at me. “I suppose I shouldn’t be telling you this, but all the brothers have gone. They’ve got Gun’s location. Within hours, Cat, Gun will be dead or captured, and you won’t have to worry anymore.”
My voice drops to a whisper. “Are you sure?”
“I trust them, Cat. They’re the best.”
I know him too well. “Why didn’t you go with them?” Even hurt as he is, I know he’d have wanted to be there.
“Because I’m just a prospect, Cat.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a patch, showing it to me. “I’ll be honest, at first the thought of staying behind was almost more than I could take. But I saw you having that nightmare and knew you were more important to me. This is my place. You’re more important to me than revenge.”
“I want him dead,” I tell him seriously. “He let me believe you had died. That hurt me so fucking much.”
“I want him taken alive,” Finn replies, quickly adding his reasoning. “The crimes against us are the tip of the iceberg. I want to know what more he’s got to hide. I’m not arrogant enough to think it all comes back to me, or is about something that happened years ago.”
She thinks on that for a moment. “When will we know if they’ve caught him?”
“They’ll be boarding the plane now and should be landing in San Diego in a couple of hours. I don’t know how long it will take to get where he’s holed up. But hopefully, by morning we’ll know whether they’ve been successful or not.”