Page 55 of Sophia, Property of Tracker

Lawrence is the fucker who kidnapped Lexi and had her at his home, doing his bidding. Sick fucker. Who knows what other shit is going on with the cartel? When shit went down with Lexi and Rhyder found her, he had shot Lawrence—the asshole who made Lexi call him master. He was transferred to the hospital along with Rhyder, but Lawrence was nowhere to be found the next day. It’s been a year since, and we have been searching, but we don’t have any idea of where he’s hiding.

I’ve tried using all my skills from my FBI days, but even then, I’m coming up short.

Lexi was a mess when we got her back. Rhyder took a month to recover—he was shot pretty bad— but luckily it didn’t hit a major artery, or else we wouldn’t have him here with us today. Rhyder needs revenge for what happened with Lexi, and I promised I would do everything in my power to help.

When Lexi was stolen and taken away, she was on holiday in Mexico with her family. Unfortunately, her sister, Paige, was kidnapped as well, but luckily, Paige didn’t suffer the whole ordeal like Lexi because we got to Paige before she was taken to her new owner.

Lexi, however, slipped through our fingers. She traveled back to the US and was under our noses, living in a mansion with Fabien Lawrence, who owned a large estate and wine distribution business. Luckily, Lexi hadn’t been violated. He had played some sick mind games with her, manipulating her every thought. She recovered better than we thought and only went to see a psychologist once or twice with Paige.

After everything she’s been through, she still continues to live life to the fullest. She went back to college and is now a qualified nurse. However, Rhyder has been going crazy trying to find the man who caused his woman pain. Not only is he after Lawrence, but he knows that the El Pasos have something to do with it, and a man by the name of Clemente. He has a lot of connections and is part of the cartel and is the one who puts an order in for girls then sells them to sick fuckers. In Lexi’s situation, Fabian Lawrence won the bid that night.

The El Pasos distribute for the cartel. They’re involved in not only drug smuggling but women trafficking as well, helping Clemente get the women. Luckily for us, the Sinners, my brother’s club, have connections with the El Pasos. Tate has offered to help us find information on them, but the Blood Brothers don’t want him involved. We don’t want anyone’s blood to be on our hands, let alone my own brother. If they were to find out that the Sinners are linked to us in any way, they’ll kill my brother and his club and then come after us. And when I say kill us, I mean torture us to death. So we have been holding back from asking Tate for his help. Rhyder has already told Lexi she doesn’t have to worry about Fabien Lawrence anymore, and she doesn’t because we will always protect her, but that doesn’t mean we’ve given up on finding him. We will find him one way or another and kill him. But that we will leave to Rhyder—revenge is sweet.

I’m brought back to the present when Rhyder answers Prez’s question. “No, nothing. He’s just up and vanished. How can a man disappear like that?”

“Money,” I declare.

Rhyder looks at me and asks, “What do you mean?”

Leaning forward, I continue, “He’s a billionaire. Surely, with that kind of money, he could reinvent himself… have a new name, a new life, and somewhere to call home. He has men who would do anything for him.”

Rhyder slams his fist on the table, yelling, “Fuck!”

I can feel his anger. He’s getting impatient and won’t rest until he knows he’s dead. And I don’t blame him. If this were Sophia, I’d want the same thing. I would kill any fucker who tried to hurt her, and a part of me feels like I’m letting him and Lexi down. I should be able to find out where he’s gone, but each time I think I’ve got something, it’s a dead end. He’s smart at covering his tracks.

“Has anyone seen my brother this morning? I think it’s about time we seek his help.”

Prez looks at me, and so do all the other men.

“Tracker, think about what you’re saying. There’s no turning back once the Sinners are involved. This is your call, he’s your brother,” Prez says, his hands lying flat on the table.

Nodding, I reply, “Yeah, I’m sure. He offered to help us months ago, and we said no to protect him and his club, and I thank everyone for that. However, we’re a year out and still have no idea where he’s gone. And I don’t know about you, but I want to see that fucker die just as much as Rhyder does. If this were any one of our women, we would want the same. Sure, we could get killed in the process, but we all know the risks we took when joining this club. All I know is the fact that these men are still out there, probably doing the same shit, but elsewhere. I don’t know about you, but that shit doesn’t sit well with me. We need to end this, and if that takes asking my brother for help, then so be it.”

Prez sits in silence for a minute and then turns to Rhyder. “I think he has a point. We all want this fucker dead, along with the others who are part of this sickening transaction. I vote we talk to Tate and see what he says and what he can do to help.”

He turns to me. “Tracker, I know you have something planned with your woman, so when you’re back, let’s meet with Tate and his men and see what they can come up with. He left last night, said he had business to take care of.”

I give him a chin lift, letting him know I agree.

“All in favor?” he asks around the room, and one by one, they all say, “Aye.”

Prez slams the gavel down and announces church is over. I go to stand, and Prez shouts, “Tracker and Gunner, I need to talk to you.”

Fuck! Nothing gets past Prez.

All the men leave the room, and Torch leaves but not without first giving me a grin—he knows we’re in some kind of trouble. Shit, this reminds me of when I was at school and got called into the principal’s office.

“You two wanna tell me what the fuck happened?”

Gunner looks from me to Prez, feigning indifference. “What do you mean, Prez?”

“You don’t think I’m gonna buy that story about you hitting your head on the door. You’ve got a black eye, and Tracker’s knuckles are bruised. What happened between you two?” Prez leans forward, his eyes narrowed. “You hit Gunner?”

I look over at Gunner, his face is black and blue from my hit, then back at Prez and nod. “Yeah, I did.”

He turns to Gunner. “What the fuck did you do?”

Gunner raises his hands. “What makes you think I did anything?”

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