Page 77 of Tempting Fate

“I know what he said,” Hugh retorts through gritted teeth. “But he wasn’t the one hung out to dry by you.”

“Oh, get over it.” Alex rolls his eyes. “They barely touched you.”

“They shot me. And, they shot out Noah’s knee.”

“Lily shot me twice.”

“My face is carved up. I’m going to need plastic surgery.”

Toker whistles low as we leave the bickering pair to their argument over who we fucked up more. The sunlight that greets us when we emerge from the galvanised steel structure is a shock. It feels like hours have passed, yet I can still see the dust down the road that tells me Lily and Slash have only just left. Ignoring Brutus, who is once again talking to Kristoff Maddison alone, I head for Cub. He’s sitting on his bike, tablet already retrieved from his pannier, as he works hard to find a way for me to prove that Brutus was involved in yesterday’s diversion at the clubhouse, Lily’s kidnapping, and Alex’s miracle escape from our clutches.

“You got anything?” I yell over the rumbling of his engine.

“Nothin’ concrete,” he tells me. He shows me a green dot on his screen. “But I’m pretty sure Fret’s in trouble.”

“What do you mean?”

I motion Toker to join us.

“What’s up, Venom?” he asks after he’s jogged over to us.

“Cub thinks Fret is missin’.”

“That’s not what I said.” Cub touches the screen to enlarge the image he showed me. “This is the location of the tracker I have in his phone. Because he’s related to Anna, I also have a backup hidden in the St. Christopher medallion he wears around his neck. The phone tracker was last active at the compound, but his second tracker is active in Bishops’ territory. More specifically, at their clubhouse. It’s been there since twenty minutes after his phone went offline... which was more than an hour ago.”

“You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.” I exchange a look with Cub as Toker elaborates on his reasoning why our tech officer is wrong. “Fret knows we’re on lockdown… plus he wouldn’t exchange a look with a Bishop, let alone hang out with them for an hour.”

“Again, you’re both missin’ the point.”

“Then enlighten us,” Toker demands. “’Cause I’ve about had enough cryptic bullshit for one day. I need a joint and the gun range or I’m liable to start usin’ heads for target practice.” He tilts his chin toward Brutus. “Startin’ with that rat bastard.”

“I don’t think Fret is missin’ and I don’t think he’s fraternisin’ with the Bishops. I think he was abducted by them.”

“Fuck.”

“Nope.” Toker groans and shakes his head at my curse. “No fuckin’ way. Cub is wrong. Fret’s in the workshop or he’s asleep. Technology ain’t shit… it goes wrong all the time.”

My gut dismisses his justifications immediately.

My mind focuses on Lily. If her brother is in the hands of a rival MC, she’s going to blame herself. Whether it’s a coincidence or not, coming so close to Alex’s attack yesterday, it’ll feel like another failure on her behalf. We’re on lockdown to protect her, and her middle brother wouldn’t have even been at the compound if it wasn’t for that. Instead, he’d be at work, creating custom-built furniture commissioned by Western Australian and east coast elite alike or fiddling with his instruments at home.

First Sander, now Fret.

Another brother hurt by her brief entanglement with Alex.

“Fuck.”

This time, Toker scrubs his hands over his face. His gaze is bleak when he murmurs, “This ain’t some kind of radio frequency fuck up, is it? Fret’s really been on Bishops’ territory for an hour…”

“My trackers don’t work on radio frequencies, they’re part of the system I created when I hacked the local phone towers and coded a way to cross-reference that data with the live satellite imaging I’ve backdoored my way into.”

“Gooble-de-gook.” Toker waves his hands as if he’s warding off magic instead of Cub’s technological explanation. “It’s all a bunch’a nonsense.”

“Still,” Cub tells him. “It’s our best weapon against sneak attacks. It saved Lily yesterday… it’ll save Fret today.”

“We need to leave,” I inform them both. “Without alertin’ Brutus… who knows how he’ll react after yesterday?”

“He’ll probably throw another bar stool at me.”

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