Page 95 of His Old Lady

Chapter 33

Curley

Curley pulled intothe driveway and shut off the engine. He rubbed his hands together. The long fucking week had every joint in his hands aching from the hard miles he and the other Tarkio members on his crew put in on the roundtrip to California.

It was a successful trip. Tarkio was satisfied with the production level on the marijuana crops, and certain the recent added security during pick up was for the best.

He swung his leg over the Harley and stood.

Once he had Faye in his arms, he planned to take her to bed and not get up until it was time to go to work tonight. Sleep would come when he died. Right now, all he needed was his old lady.

He undid the strap, holding his duffle to the backseat of his Harley, and carried the bag to the house. Keeping his eyes on the door, he expected Faye to run out and greet him.

When she hadn't come outside, he grinned. Maybe she was taking a shower or prettying herself up for his arrival. Obviously, Rick had given her the message that he would be home because her car was parked in the driveway.

He tried the door handle, glad to find it locked. While she was safe when he was around, she needed to take extra precautions when alone. He'd made many enemies throughout the years. Wearing the Tarkio patch, put a target on his back. One he willingly wore with pride.

Using his key, he let himself inside. Faye's bag sat in his path on the floor, and he tossed his duffle, moving her things to the side.

"Faye?" He walked through the living room and peeked in the kitchen before going down the hallway. "Faye? I'm home."

He entered the bedroom. The bed was made, and the drapes were open. Checking out the bathroom, the laundry room, and the spare bedrooms, he went to the backdoor and stepped outside onto the deck, scanning the area.

Not finding her, he walked inside and picked up the phone receiver on the wall of the kitchen, dialing Rick's number.

"Hello?" answered Tracy.

"It's Curley. Did Faye drive to your house, or did she get a ride?"

"She drove. Why?"

"Her car is here, but I can't find her." He stretched the phone cord toward the window and looked outside again. "The house was locked up."

"That's weird. She left about a half-hour ago or so, and was excited to see you again."

"Do you think one of the other ladies had plans with her or would stop by the house?" He ran his hand over his head.

"I don't think so, but I couldn't swear. She does have her own life and schedule, so I don't know." Tracy paused. "Actually, Curley. I don't think she'd leave. She really missed you and shot out of here as soon as she heard you were at the clubhouse and coming home. Maybe she went to the clubhouse."

"But her car is here."

"It's only a mile away. Could she have walked?"

There was no reason to walk when she had a car. Adrenaline filled him. His return to Missoula forgotten. He wanted his woman.

"Is Rick still home?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Send him to my house. Tell him to hurry."

Tracy's voice quieted as she spoke with her man, then she came back on the line. "He's heading out."

"Thanks."

"Curley?" Tracy softened her voice and said, "Everything is okay. Faye's okay."

"I hope so." He hung up and stormed over to his duffle.

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