“They vanished?” I ask. “That’s what you can give me, they just fucking vanished?” I shout. “My woman, my baby, they fucking vanished?”
My heart starts to beat harder and harder. I feel like it’s going to stop, it’s slamming against my chest so fucking hard. Hawk takes a step forward, his eyes wide as he shakes his head.
“Where is my daughter?” he demands. “Where is my fucking daughter?”
Dragon doesn’t have any answers. He doesn’t have anything. I feel helpless. I stumble backward. I haven’t felt this way in years, not since my brother was beating the shit out of me. I took that helplessness back just a couple days ago when I ended his life. Now, I’m there all over again—fucking helpless.
“Jaguar is on the phone,” Taz announces.
We all freeze, even Dutch. He knows what happened with Jaguar, although he’s been pretty quiet, he’s in the know, he’s watching everything and better than me, because he’s staying really fucking calm.
“Fuck,” Dutch hisses. “Jaguar?”
Taz dips his chin, handing him the phone. It’s not even a cell, it’s the fucking clubhouse landline. I forgot that it even worked still. I thought that Silver canceled that shit a long time ago. I’m kind of glad that he didn’t at this point.
“What the actual fuck?” Dragon asks. “Do you know where they are? You know this means war, right? And you are on the wrong side,” he hisses. There’s a moment of silence, then Dragon speaks again. “We’ll fuckin’ see.”
We all watch with bated breaths, waiting for Dragon to enlighten us on the conversation. When he doesn’t immediately, I take a step forward. He lifts his head, his eyes finding mine.
“They were taken to the Donkey Punchers. I don’t know why, but Jaguar is with them. He saw them, he got them out.”
“Where the fuck are they?” I demand on a hiss.
Dragon’s gaze lifts to mine. “He doesn’t know. All he could do was help them escape the clubhouse. Says he has a reason he needs to stay, but that he wants to make shit right. They’re up in NorCal in the woods. He said he can’t go out and look for them, that he’s doing something there, something he can’t tell me about yet.”
“Fuck him. I see him and I’m ending him,” I growl. “I’ll put the bullet through his head myself.”
“Mountain,” Taz shouts. “He didn’t take them. He didn’t have to help them and he sure as fuck didn’t have to call us to not only tell us where they are, but where he is too. Trista is my Old Lady and she’s gone too, you ain’t the only one whose woman is missing.”
Pressing my lips together, I try not to tell him and everyone else to go fuck themselves. Taking a step toward Dragon, I lift my hand, extending my finger and pointing it directly in the center of his chest.
“You didn’t call me. If something happens to her that I could have prevented. You didn’t fucking call me.”
“It wouldn’t matter, we didn’t know where she was.”
“You don’t get to make that call,” I grind out.
He leans forward, his lip curled in a snarl. “I’m the fucking president, so yeah, I do.”
Shaking my head, I open my mouth to speak, but Hawk beats me to it. “No, Dragon. You don’t. You’ve overstepped, again. I get you toe the line and usually shit works out fine when you do. This is different, that wasn’t your call to make. Mountain deserved to know his woman was missing and I sure as fuck deserved to know my daughter was.”
“She ain’t branded. And Trista’s man knew she was gone. I am well within the fucking scope of my duties and requirements as president of the Savage Beasts.”
“You’re a fuckin’ asshole,” I snap. “You want to lose your loyalty?” I ask. “This is how it happens. You are not a goddamn dictator. Known you since we were kids. As my friend, you should have fucking called.”
“I didn’t call as your friend because I knew there was nothing you could do. I didn’t want you to get in an accident racing home. You can believe what you want, but I love you, Mountain, and I kept it from you because of that.”
“I don’t know about you fucks, but I’m going to Donkey Puncher territory and I plan on packing—heavily.”
Without another word, I turn from Dragon and follow Taz into the armory. I plan on packing too—heavily.
Chapter Forty
LEIGHTON
I sit in the mud surrounded by leaves, pine needles, and whatever else is on the forest floor. My legs are pulled up and I wrap my arms around my knees, my eyes pinched closed as I shiver. I’m still wearing the same jean shorts and tank top that I was taken in. On my feet are the same sandals and it’s really really fucking cold.
“We’re going to be okay,” Trista promises, again.
I want to believe her. A few hours ago, I did. We haven’t moved much past the hiding spot that we found when we heard the bikes ride by. We started to walk a little ways, then heard them again.
Now we’re just waiting. Waiting to be found or die. I’m going with dying before we’re found to be honest. I can see the soft light rising in the sky and I let out a sigh at the sight. This could mean warmth, if nothing else, maybe we won’t shiver for more hours on end.
“We need to get up and move, we need to try to find a phone,” Trista suddenly announces as she stands to her feet.
I don’t know how her body moves as quickly as it does. I’m thirsty and my stomach feels like it’s cramping. I’m hungry too. I try not to think about how long it’s been since I’ve eaten or drank anything. I try not to think about what that means for my baby. Thinking about it just makes me want to cry.
“Do you really think we’re going to walk out of these woods alive. That we’re going to get ahold of the Beasts and that they’ll magically arrive before these Donkey Punchers find us? I think you’re living in a fantasy if you believe all of that is going to happen,” I say.
Trista licks her lips, shaking her head a couple of times. “I’m sure that I am, but I’m not going to give up trying,” she states.
Inhaling a deep breath, I slowly stand to my feet. “Okay,” I breathe. “Okay. I’m not going to give up either.”
“Good.”
Together, much slower than we were hours ago, we start to walk. We still don’t know where we’re going, but we know that if we stay where we are, we won’t survive. Together, arm in arm, we walk.
“What’s the first thing you want when we’re back in Arizona?” she asks.
I almost laugh, knowing that we’ll probably never get back there. Instead, I lick my lips and tilt my head to the side as I let the now rising sun warm me as much as it can. My clothes are soaking wet from the damp dew of the night and early morning, they’re also muddy and dirty from sitting on the ground for hours.
“I want something really fatty and bad for me. I don’t care what it is, ice cream, pizza, pasta, whatever. I just want it.”
Trista laughs softly. “Me too,” she whispers.