“Legally, you should stay close enough to keep it in view. But I doubt that fucker cares about legality at all. He could be anywhere, a few feet, yards, or a fuckin’ mile.” Token sounds like he’s talking through gritted teeth. Then when he too stops looking up, he shakes his head. “Only thing I got from that was that whoever it is had eyes on her too.”
There’s only one thing that makes any sense, even though it sounds crazy. “He’s protecting her.”
Token does his characteristic shrug. “She’s important to him. Does he want to keep her safe for her own sake? Or is there a purpose she can serve?”
I don’t like there being anyone sniffing around Patsy, whatever reason he has, good or bad. He wants to talk to her? He’ll have to have words with me first. “How did he know she’d taken off in the first place?”
“Obviously hacked into the same tracking app that I use.” Token sounds disgusted. “One thing I will say, Lost. This guy is better than me.”
“Or he’s got more resources at his disposal.” I slap Token on the back. “He let us know he was here, and I want to know why. He could easily have spied on her, on us, without us being aware.”
Token stops me as I’m about to walk off. “There’s more to think about, Prez. Why was he watching her? Was he going to step in and help if she got into trouble?” Token jerks his head toward the big eighteen wheelers parked up. “A lone woman, with only flimsy locked doors.”
I had noticed and had been going to talk to her about that. But, upset as she was, I expect she’d needed to get off the road without analysing how safe it was first.
“He was close enough to offer assistance if she got into trouble?” I ask, again, looking around.
Token shakes his head. “No, but he’s probably tracking my fuckin’ phone. He knew we were on our way.”
He’d let us see the drone. Was that just to show us the technology he was able to use? I feel sorry for Token, I know he feels he’s letting me down. “He’s not hiding from us. And, it looks like he’s on our side.”
“Yeah.” Token closes his eyes then opens them again. “But hell, this is all fucked up. I deal in data, hate things coming at me from the side.”
I can fully understand where he’s coming from. My world was all binary code once. Ones and zeros which all added up to make sense.
Turning, I notice Dart’s got Patsy out of the car, and she’s dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Fuck, I hate to see women cry, and particularly mine. Recently, she’s had cause to be upset far too much.
“Let’s get back to the compound.” I pat Token on the back again. “That drone has reminded me eyes can be anywhere. I don’t like Patsy being out in the open.”
I walk away, going to Patsy and Dart. “Babe, you’re on the back of my bike.” I want her where I can feel her, know that she’s close. It’s lucky I’ve still got the spare helmet in my saddlebag. Getting it out, I hand it to her along with the bandana and sunglasses she’d previously used.
“My car…?”
“Prospect!” All I need do is point, and he’s holding out his hand for her keys. Wrangler’s sheepish look reminds me how he fucked up. I hate disappointing any man, but I’ll be watching him extra carefully now. If he can’t demonstrate basic fucking common sense, he won’t be getting his patch. Sure, she might have told him I already knew, but he should have fucking checked.
Token nods as though I’ve asked a question and swings himself up into the driver’s seat of the truck.
As Patsy gets on behind me, her arms, without encouragement, come around my waist and hold me tight. Then, once everyone’s back on their rides, I start my engine.
This time I’m in the lead, brothers behind me once again in formation, but the cages follow bringing up the rear. I only breathe easier once we’re back.
It’s not just me. It’s only when we’re through the gates of the compound that I feel tension seep from Patsy.
The thought that I might have lost her forever turns my gut sour. If Token hadn’t thought to put a tracker on her car, I might never have found her. That someone other than us was also able to trace where she went, helps not one iota. That’s a mystery that needs to be solved.
I tap her leg, she dismounts, then I walk my bike back and park. When I’ve swung my leg over the seat, I catch her eye.
“We need to talk.”
She bites her lip and looks down.
“Come.” I hold out my hand, then lead her into the clubhouse, through the clubroom and up the stairs to my bedroom, the room I’d give anything to think of as ours.
Avoiding the bed, I take her to the comfy sofa. Sitting, I tug her, overbalancing her so she all but falls into my lap, an oomph coming from her mouth. Wrapping my arms around her, I just hold her tight.
We sit like that for a few minutes, our breathing falling into a pattern where our chests rise and fall in unison. It’s symbolic, reminding me we’ve got to get our heads onto the same page, and I can’t risk her running off again. Despite that it’s club business, it involves her. I go against every ingrained instinct and begin to talk to her.
“Things are moving forward, babe. I know it probably feels to you that we’re treading water, but we’ve got a direction to swim in now. The numbers from the plans in the safe deposit box of yours were coordinates of two locations. One this side in San Diego, and one the Mexican side of the border. That strongly suggests there’s something linking the two, and as there’s no road, it points to a tunnel. Smoker, Niran and Reboot are going tonight to check it out.”
