“But not that lucky.”
I wondered why Har wasn’t that lucky just before pain exploded on the back of my head and everything went black.
Har
AFTER THE DOOR SHUT behind Stephanie, Har threw a roundhouse punch to the opposite side of Dixon’s head.
“You used a woman as insurance. You’re fucking scum.”
Diana kept screaming behind her gag and he turned venomous eyes to her. “Shut the fuck up or I can break your nose, too.”
Her eyes went stunned before they glared at him anew.
Roman wandered up behind Dixon. “I agree he deserves serious punishment, but unless the plan’s changed, he needs to keep his damn teeth, Prez.”
He lifted his chin at Roman and looked over his shoulder at Brute. His brother’s eyes were livid, his nostrils flared with his breathing, and he hated what he had to say.
“I know you want vengeance, but you heard the man.” He tipped his head for a moment before he smiled. “At least we know he’s gonna burn.”
“What the fuck?” Dixon roared, reminding Har he had to re-gag him.
Joules sidled up to Roman behind Dixon, who was flailing wildly. “Now you did it, Harmful. You know better than that. Or at least you fuckin’ used to.”
Once Roman and Joules controlled the man, Har was able to stuff the bandana back in his mouth. He shook his head. “You couldn’t possibly think you were gonna get out of this shit alive.”
He faced Brute who quivered with anger. “Yo, brother. We good?”
Brute’s gaze never left Dixon. “We’re good. But, I’m cuttin’ his fuckin’ dick off before he dies.”
Har grinned. “Call Roll. He can tell you how it’s done.”
Brute glared at him, but Dixon’s face paled and his eyes were round as saucers.
Cynic and Block walked into the room. Cynic twirled his key chain on his finger. “Truck’s pulled up.” He looked at Roman. “You ready to do this shit?”
Roman’s chin dipped at an angle. “Has the sun even set?”
“Nearly dark now. It’ll definitely be dark when we get them where they’re going,” Block muttered.
Har nodded. “Gamble and Tiny still watchin’ the place?”
Block and Cynic nodded.
“Load ’em up. We’ll leave as soon as I grab something from my room.”
“Better not be Stephanie,” Brute grumbled.
“Thought we were cool?”
Brute shook his head. “Sorry. Givin’ you shit comes naturally.”
Har held his gaze a moment. “More like bein’ a shit comes naturally to you.”
He stalked out and went to the clubhouse. Entering through the back door, he saw Sandy puttering around in the kitchen before he beelined to his room. After he shoved open the door, he knew something was wrong.
“Stephanie?” he called out while he moved to the bathroom.
A ball of acid formed in his gut when he found the room empty.
“Stephanie!” he hollered and stormed out to the common room.
Sandy stepped aside in the hallway before he plowed into her. “Har, what’s wrong? Stephanie isn’t here.”
He scowled at her. “She was on the back of my bike an hour ago, Sandra. Twenty minutes ago she left the shed and I told her to come in here, go to my room and stay there.”
Sandy’s face fell before she shook her head. “She never came in here. I’ve been here since four o’clock. She isn’t—”
He whirled away and slammed out the back door, yelling Stephanie’s name as he jogged back to the shed.
Brute rounded the back of Cynic’s truck. “What the fuck, man? Why you yelling—”
“Stephanie’s gone! She rode on the back of my bike with me, so she doesn’t have wheels. Where the fuck is she?”
Brute’s nostrils flared. “Dixon’s still in the room. Let’s ask him if he’s got a fuckin’ accomplice.”
The acidic feeling in his stomach intensified and a hollow ache formed in his chest.
“Goddammit! This shit is not fuckin’ happening.” Har growled.
Brute stood outside the shed telling the others what had happened.
Joules stepped in front of him.
“Pull it together, Prez. My brother-in-law has a hound. That dog’ll pick up her scent in no time, if you got somethin’ of hers for him to sniff.”
Har didn’t know if he did, but any effort was better than nothing. He lifted his chin and barged into the shed.
“You work your shit alone?” he demanded.
Bewilderment filled Dixon’s eyes and he shook his head while muffled sounds came from the gag. Har yanked it out.
“Talk, dammit.”
“Work what shit alone?”
Har glared, and Dixon continued. “Skimming money from women? Yeah, that’s just me. All me. I don’t have anyone else.”
“Why should I believe you?” he hissed.
Fear washed over the bastard’s face. “Why would I lie?”
Har crouched to let a punch fly at Dixon’s gut. “I don’t fuckin’ know, but you better be tellin’ the truth.”
Brute wandered up beside him. “If he ain’t got a partner, where the fuck is she?”
He drove a hand through his hair. “Fuck if I know, man.”
Roman cleared his throat and Har turned around.
“What is it, Roman?”
“I know you’re focused on finding your woman, but we aren’t the only ones able to figure out our brothers purchased a cookhouse. If we’re executing this plan, we gotta do it tonight. The sooner the better.”
Har’s fists clenched, but Brute stepped in front of him. “Why? What’s the rush?”
“Detective Dennizen paid a visit to us already. They’re gonna be keepin’ an eye on us. A truck leaving the compound followed by three or four of us on our bikes is gonna raise flags.”
“That’s why we’re using the back gate for those of us on bikes,” Brute said.
Har tilted his head back. Staring at the ceiling he blew out a frustrated sigh. Roman had a point but Har had to find his woman. How in the hell could she be missing? It was a short walk to the clubhouse...
“Call Gamble. Now.”
Brute put his phone on speaker. “Veep, what’s the status?” Gamble asked in greeting.
“Where’s Tiny?” Har demanded.
“Prez, he’s right here. You want to—”
“You’re certain Mass and Wreck are in that house?”
Gamble made a noise. “Uh, Wreck’s bike is here, but—”
Brute took the call off speaker, and put the phone to his
