Page 77 of Tess, Property of Blaze

The police don’t let up on them, but one officer, probably the one in charge if all the stripes and badges he’s wearing are any indication, says something to the paramedic as he storms past on his way to stop me. The paramedic stays standing next to the police officer, so I take it as a sign of approval to open the bag.

I’m about to unzip it completely when I hear the sound of a familiar voice just behind me. “It’s not Tess.”

I look up to see Snake standing there, cuts and bruises over every bit of visible skin, and a blanket wrapped around him. His hair is wet, like he’s been swimming. I ignore him and open the bag anyway. I don’t trust Snake one bit.

It’s not Tess inside, and a tiny spark of hope ignites in my chest. It’s some other guy, bald with a tattoo on his head. His cut has Skull Forseekers 1% stitched onto the front.

I look up at Snake and jump to my feet, the rage now taking hold. “Where the fuck is she?” I yell as I wrap my hands around his neck and push him back against the nearby ambulance. He makes a choking sound and starts to go even paler as I put pressure on his windpipe.

Then suddenly I’m getting pulled off him by some other men. I kick and scream but they’re too strong for me. “Let me go, where is she?”

Another man comes and stands before me—dark-skinned with a mustache, he’s clean-cut and wearing a gray suit.

“I take it you’re Dalton De Sante?”

I don’t acknowledge him, I’m too busy focusing on Snake. “Tell me where she is!” I yell again, completely ignoring the other man.

“I’m Detective Salvatore, this man behind me—the man you call Snake—has been undercover for us for a few years.”

My eyes widen. Did he say undercover?

“That’s right, Blaze,” Snake says, coming forward. “My real name is Tom Green. I’m a detective for the New York Police Department.”

My head snaps toward him. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“He’s not,” Detective Salvatore says. “You see, Detective Green has been gathering as much information as he can for us regarding the kidnapping of underage women. We were suspicious that the Forseekers were the one’s responsible for the missing girls.”

I grind my teeth, waiting for the douchebag to finish his explanation, then say, “That’s all well and good, sir, but tell me where the fuck Tess is.”

Detective Salvatore looks at Snake, and I see his face fall. “Tell me!” I shout. I want to go and grab Snake by the throat again, but my arms are still being held back by the police.

“I’m sorry, Blaze. I tried to help her.”

Even the tight grip of the police officers can’t keep me from falling to the ground on my knees. “No. No! She can’t be, she can’t…. Oh my God, please, she can’t be dead.” It’s not true, it can’t be true.

I feel hands on my shoulders, then Jasmine’s voice in my ear. “Shush… we’re here. We’re here, Blaze. Come on, let’s get you back to the clubhouse.”

I look over at Jasmine. “She’s dead, she really is dead,” I choke out.

Tears roll down her face and her mouth trembles. “I’m so sorry, so, so sorry. She didn’t deserve this.”

I sob my heart out on the hard ground, and Jasmine holds me in a tight embrace. I cry into her arms for what seems like hours.

“Mr. De Sante? I’m sorry to break this up, but we need to bring you down to the station to get a statement.”

I don’t answer, I’m too broken. I don’t care if I die right here and now.

“Please, can we just take him home and bring him there tomorrow? I promise he’ll be there. He’s just lost his woman,” Jasmine explains, and then something occurs to me. If Tess is dead, then where’s her body?

I snap my head up to look at Snake. “Where’s her body? If Tess is dead, her body should be here?”

Snake sighs, then looks at the other detective.

“Well?” I ask, standing once again.

“Her body hasn’t been found. I managed to get out somehow, and I looked for Tess, but she was nowhere to be found. I thought she must have already swum to the surface and got out. I’m sorry, Blaze, but she didn’t.”

“Okay, okay,” I say, wiping at my damp eyes. “So she could still be out there. Why aren’t we looking for her?”

“Even if she survived the crash, she wouldn’t have survived the night in that ocean. The current is strong. Believe me, we’ve been out searching all night and this morning. The divers are still out there.”

I turn around then rush to the edge of the cliff, looking down. The car’s now being hoisted up onto the road, small amounts of water still gushing out of it as it’s suspended from the steel cable. I rush over to it and look inside as soon as it settles on the ground, finding no immediate trace of Tess. Then my eyes focus on something lodged in the side of the back seat, and I run around to the other side of the car and open the rear door. It’s Tess’s shoe, one of her black boots she was wearing last night. I remember looking at them when she was getting ready, dressed in that sexy red dress. So Tess was here, but I refuse to think that she’s dead. Surely if she was, then I would feel it, her being gone. But I don’t.

“What’d you find?”

I look up at Quill, who’s standing near the destroyed SUV with Jasmine by his side. I wriggle Tess’s boot out—fuck the police and their protocols—and hold it up to them.

Jasmine cries out and grabs the shoe out of my hand. “She was wearing those boots last night. She’s gone, she really is gone,” she cries, and Quill brings her into his side, then looks over her head at me.

“I will find her, if it’s the last thing I do,” I state before I move away from the SUV and walk over to my bike. Somebody, most likely one of my brothers, had put it upright again, and I breathe a sigh of relief when it starts up first go. I make my way to our house.

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