“Dice better be following a lead and not just trying to spend private time with Avery away from the club.” Wildcard says with a chuckle.
Chill grimaces. “He better be working.”
Wildcard puts the finishes on his sandwich and leaves us alone. We’re almost done eating when Chill’s phone dings. She pulls it out and glances at the display. She mouths Dice to me before she accepts the call.
She opens her mouth to talk but then stays silent. Her eyes turn hard. Rising, she steps out of the room, my eyes following her.
“Wait here. Ok?” I tell Slade. He nods at me, his eyes wide with worry.
I rush out to find Chill and Wildcard in Spark’s office. Her phone on speaker. I can hear someone talking, but it isn’t Dice.
“So, you and your club think you can break into my warehouse and spy on me? I wonder how your President will enjoy receiving you back in pieces? And you bitch, you’ll earn us a nice fee. I see a bidding war in your future. Along with a lot of pain and humiliation, but at least you’ll see what you’re worth first.”
I glance at Chill, who is watching Spark work on his computer while Wildcard’s fingers fly over his phone.
“Got him.” Spark says. “Give Hawk and Viper this location.” He tells Wildcard.
“Got it, let’s go.” Chill says, picking up her phone and glancing at me. “Spark, reach out to Trouble. The warehouse is closer to his location. Maybe he and his guys can get there sooner.”
“I’d like to come.” I tell Chill. “This concerns Slade and Nicole.”
Chill nods and pushes past me. I turn and follow her.
“Listen up. Dice is in trouble. Rush, you and Splint stay here and protect the clubhouse. Smooth and Max in the SUV. The rest of you, let’s ride. Spark is sending the location to your GPS. Go.”
In seconds we’re through the gate and making our way across the city to the location Spark sent us. My military training kicks in, although it feels different. I don’t know if it’s because we’re on home soil or because I’m on the back of a motorcycle rather than in a jeep. The heat is the same, but the sights as we drive down the strip are nothing like those in the Middle East.
I don’t know if we’re flying in hot or silent, but as a prospect, I’m in the rear, with Chill and Wildcard in the lead. I’m following them and trusting them to make the right call. For so long, I was the one who lead the team, but I trust Chill to do whatever it takes to bring us all home.
When we reach the location on the GPS, we arrive to find the warehouse surrounded by another group of bikers. I assume this is Trouble and his men. Trouble steps out of the warehouse as we cut off our engines. He approaches Wildcard and Chill. I can’t hear the words, but the look on his face has my gut clenching. It is not a cheerful look.
“What do we have?” Wildcard asks.
Trouble runs his hand over his face. “A fucking mess.” He says. “Come on.”
We all follow Trouble inside. We enter a room that looks to be an office. On the floor are two men, their blank eyes staring at the ceiling. One of Trouble’s men stands next to a hole in the wall, his knuckles bleeding. Cusses and swear words echo throughout the space, along with the sounds of flesh hitting hard surfaces. Despair permeates the air. I glance at Chill, my gut clenching when I don’t see Avery or Dice. Chill’s face shows no emotion, but I can feel the anxiety flowing off her.
Unsure of what we’ll find, I follow the others deeper into the building until we reach the open space of the warehouse. The stench is unbelievable. I feel like I’ve entered a neglected barnyard where the animals wallow in their own filth. I hear a sound that doesn’t fit. An underlying murmur of fear under the hiss of anger. I feel like I’m entering some sort of haunted house, but when I finally see what has everyone so worked up, I realize it is so much worse.
