Page 54 of Hell Bent

Lottie put a hand on Vicious’s arm, making him look at her. “I know, but what if this has to do with her brother’s death? What if she pissed off someone without even knowing and that caused her kidnapping?”

“The circumstances don’t matter, Lottie. She’s still gone.”

Lottie dropped her hand, letting Vicious walk away. As he moved, she saw Razor standing inside the doorway, staring at her.

Turning around, she started to head back to his room until she heard Vicious call her name. “What?” She didn’t hear what he said beyond her name.

Like mechanisms of a machine, the gears in his head clicked into place. “What did you say?”

“When?”

“About Dawson.”

“Dawson and his friend were the ones giving Sway all the information on Jerome Michel, the Bloody Scorpions, and you guys.”

“Have you seen Jerome Michel with Dawson?”

“I don’t know what the guy looks like.”

Vicious quickly walked into the tech room and grabbed a picture of Jerome. Turning around, Lottie was standing in the doorway, so he handed her the photo and watched her face drop. “What is it?”

“This guy is always at Dawson’s place. But he doesn’t go by Jerome, at least not in front of me. He goes by Jerry.”

On a hunch, Vicious asked Sherlock to pull up the photos of all the men who had, one way or another, caused the chapter problems. Lottie scanned each image and told them who each one was. “All those guys are either fighters in Dawson’s camp or his friends. I’ve never seen or heard anything about the Bloody Scorpions.”

“Sherlock, pull up everything you have on Dawson Franks. Every property he owns and all of his associates that we know of.”

“You think Dawson is behind Sway being kidnapped?”

Vicious pointed to the image that showed Sway being shoved into the van. “What do you see?”

“That’s a van Dawson owns.” Lottie covered her mouth with her hands, shocked that she’d trusted Dawson. She listened as Vicious shouted out orders. Turning around, she walked out with tears streaming down her face.

Vicious looked back, feeling like he should say something to Sway’s friend. He saw the girl walking toward the backhallway, her head bent forward as her slender shoulders shook. Turning, he took one step in her direction before Razor stopped him.

“You have Sway to find, Vicious. Let me take care of Lottie,” Razor said as he walked past him.

He was thankful for Razor. He had no idea how to make Lottie feel better when his head and his heart were a mess. “Thanks.”

Razor waved Vicious off as he headed after Lottie. He knew where she was headed—his room. That’s where she was supposed to keep her sexy ass until he came for her. So much for her listening to him.

Shoving open the bedroom door, he came up short at seeing Lottie crumpled on the bed, sobbing into a pillow. Closing the door, he went straight to her. Sitting on the bed, he crawled in next to her, letting her settle in his arms. Stroking her long, dark hair with one hand, he let her cry into his chest. “We’ll find Sway, baby.”

Lottie sniffled, rubbing her face against Razor’s T-shirt. “What if you don’t?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t believe in what-if. I believe in facts, and the fact is we have twenty men, if not more, combing the city for her. We have Sherlock and a few other brothers tearing through every camera in the city, piecing together the movements of that van and Sway’s attackers. So, don’t give up on us finding her. You helped us out by identifying those guys in the photos. Not to mention you knew the van belonged to Dawson. Sherlock will find Dawson, and then we’ll get our girl back. Okay?”

“Okay.” Lottie didn’t know why she did it. Blame it on her emotional state. Blame it on her wanting to feel some form of connection at that moment. She eased up Razor’s body and kissed him. When he didn’t kiss her back, she felt foolish, until he grabbed her by the hair and held her in place as he plundered her mouth with his tongue.

Chapter Thirty-Three

The choice to leave the clubhouse alone was solely on his shoulders. Whatever happened from that point on was his own doing, and he’d take the punishment if he survived the night.

He’d gotten word that a few of Dawson’s flunkies were having a little party at a local dive and headed over to talk to them.

Vicious was done waiting around. Done playing ‘guess who’ with motherfuckers who didn’t know shit. He’d done what Teller told him, and now, he was doing things his way. He needed to get information and fast if he was gonna find Sway before it was too late.

Walking up to the front of Dog Pound Tavern, he punched the bouncer in the face when he tried to stop him. Vicious didn’t wait to see if the guy got back up, he just kept on walking. He found who he was looking for at the back of the bar, sitting in the last booth and holding court like some fucking kingpin. But Jacob Mallow wasn’t any kindof king. He was a fighter for Dawson Franks, but he was at the bottom of the lineup. Still, he’d know something about Dawson’s movements. They all would. Word on the street told him if Franks made a move, his fighters knew just in case he needed backup.

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