Page 32 of Tess, Property of Blaze

Blaze

Imake my way to the room where church is held with coffee in my hand, and shut the door behind me, taking a seat at my normal spot. I’m impatient for it to be over so I can go take a look at what the fuck is in that file. I spot Tracker, and he looks away; whatever it is must be bad if Tracker can’t even look me in the eye.

The gavel slams a couple of times and my attention falls to Prez.

“Brothers, we found them,” he says with a smile on his face. “Hawke and Gunner went out and questioned some drug dealers last night, and they got lucky with one on the corner of Maxwell and Steele, who said a man with a Forseekers patch bought some cocaine off him. He said he’d want more, and if he could deliver it to some warehouse downtown.”

“You get the address?” I ask.

“We did,” Hawke answers with a smile on his face. “Gunner and I took a ride to where the warehouse is and staked out the place. Music was blaring from it, and we saw four members out front holding the fort.”

“So what’s the plan?” I ask, looking around the room. “We go in, just like that?”

Prez shakes his head. “No, we need to be smart—we need an inside man.”

“You thinkin’ the drug dealer?” I ask

“Nah, man, we can’t go telling him our business, one mess-up and all will break loose.”

I nod my head; he’s got a point. “Who, then?”

Prez looks over at Rhyder. “Rhyder, you up for the job?”

“Me?” he asks, clearly shocked and pointing his finger at his chest.

“Yeah, you. We’ll have your back. We will be waiting outside.”

Not liking that Rhyder is going in, I speak up. “I’m your sergeant-at-arms, let me go in.” The look of relief on Rhyder’s face tells me I made the right decision. Rhyder’s like my little brother. I mean, he’s tough and shit, and I know he could hold his own, but still, I’m the protector of the club, and I should be the one going in. I look over at Prez, who’s rubbing his jaw. “What? Somethin’ wrong with me goin’ in Rhyder’s place?”

Prez shakes his head. “Not sayin’ that, bro, just wondering if you’re in the right headspace to be dealing with this.”

“C’mon, Prez, you know I don’t let personal business get in the way of club business. Let me go in.”

“I’ll go,” Tracker interrupts, and I turn to face him, pissed that everyone’s trying to take my spot. “I know what to look out for, I should go.”

I inhale deeply and narrow my eyes at him. “Fuck that, I’m going,” I growl.

“You’ve got some shit to do, remember?” he states, and I smirk.

“What’s wrong, you’re not seeing your little princess?”

Tracker crosses his arms and glares at me. That’s right, brother, I know about your precious girl, the one you’re trying to keep away from this club.

“What you know about Sophia?”

“Sophia, is it?” I smile smugly. “How old is she anyway, nineteen?” I joke, but Tracker steps in before I can continue.

“Shut the fuck up, brother, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

We all know Tracker has a girl—she’s from Vixen Falls, he met her when he was out looking for his brother Tate, back when Tracker was an FBI agent. He told Hawke one night that he met her before he joined the Blood Brothers and wasn’t sure how she’d react if she came out to the clubhouse to meet all of us. He must be serious about her, because he’s never been with another woman since I’ve known him, and that’s saying a lot. He’s had lots of opportunity, I won’t lie, and it kills me to admit it, but he’s a good-looking guy—mocha skin, green eyes, and a body that shows he works out every day… fuck! Now I sound like I want cock….

All jokes aside, Tracker is a good man, and he’s there for us no matter what. He’s proved that time and time again. And I know whatever he’s found on Tess would have been hard for him to share with me. But whatever it is, he obviously thinks that me going into the warehouse to search for signs of the missing girl isn’t a good idea, and for once I’m gonna listen. I need to read the file anyway.

I smirk again, remembering the conversation was currently focused on Sophia. Whistles sound around the room, and everyone begins to chant “Sophia, Sophia.”

Tracker shakes his head and looks over at Prez. “C’mon, Prez, stop this shit now.”

Prez laughs, then says firmly, “You heard him boys, that’s enough,” and slams the gavel down on the solid wood of the table. “We’ve got a serious situation on our hands, so if everyone agrees, Tracker’s going into the warehouse. Tracker, you sure about this?”

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