Page 28 of Jackson

“Whose phone is this?”

“I borrowed it and ...”

“Fuck. They could be tapped into my phone. Hang up and get out of there right now. Go to the parking lot where we do business and wait for me. Don’t move from there.”

Wherewedo business?

I swallow, and then realize he’s talking about the wharf. I hand the phone back to the blond lady, and she offers me a weary smile. Turning, I rush off and get back into the car. What I didn’t realize is that all along, those women knew who I was, and they immediately called the cops.

I don’t realize until flashing lights suddenly appear behind me.

My eyes widen, and my heart skips a beat.

Oh no.

No, no.

This is bad.

My eyes dart around the road, desperately trying to find a place where I can get the hell out of here, but I can’t find any roads that are safe to turn down. Is my only option to get out and run? I don’t have anyone to help this time, no one with a map, nothing.

I make a hasty decision and turn the truck back toward the location where the rally is, praying I’ll pass one of the club members who can help me. I keep the speed up, runningred lights and desperately weaving through cars as I near the location. Passing two bikes, I wave my hands frantically.

It doesn’t take them long to figure out what’s happening.

I swerve down a side street, and two cop cars are on my tail.

I made a huge mistake, and I know it.

I’m just coming to the end of the street when the loud rumble of the bikes whizz up behind me and skid in front of the cop cars. I don’t look back, I don’t even consider that the cops might hit them, I just speed up, turning down random streets until I’m sure I’m alone, then I get out of the truck and run.

I’ll hide all damn night if I have to.

I get out of the main area in town and find some thick woods behind the local store to take a shallow, ragged breath. Pressing my hands to my knees, I try to come up with a plan on what to do next. The cops will be buzzing around town looking for me, and I don’t want to give them even the smallest chance to catch me.

The wharf is a solid twenty-minute drive, which means it’s at least triple that in walking distance.

I don’t think I have a choice.

I’ve been there enough to know how to make my way down the long, open road. Thankfully there are enough trees and woodland running down the sides of that road that I just might be able to shield myself. If the police were tapping Jackson’s phone, then they might figure out what he was talking about, though I’m hopeful they won’t, considering they have never busted them.

I have no choice now but to walk and hope like hell that I don’t get caught.

Then I have to face the wrath of Jackson when I return.

I promised I’d stay in that car.

I made a huge mistake, and I know it.

IT TAKES ME A LITTLEover two hours to get to the wharf, and by the time I do, it’s late afternoon. If needed, I can hide until it’s dark, but I’m hoping it won’t come to that. Making my way toward the area where business is usually conducted, I peer over a large concrete wall and glance down, seeing that there aren’t any police.

A black truck is parked by a large dock, and it’s hard to tell from here, but I think that is one of the club’s trucks.

Biting my lip, I take the risk and make my way down toward it. As I near, the doors open, and I breathe a sigh of relief when Jackson gets out. It doesn’t last long, though, because the furious expression on his face has me stopping in my tracks, putting my hands up in a futile attempt to explain myself before he can blast me.

“I saw him. I saw Gerard, and he was in disguise. At least, Ithinkit was him, and I had to follow him.”

“Youthink?” Jackson’s voice comes out in a hiss, and I know that he’s angry, wild in fact.

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