Page 140 of The Good Girl

He pulls out his cell phone, taps on something, and hands it to me. “They wouldn’t listen, but you must.”

I take the phone and look down at it as G steps closer. “You put a tracker on the car?”.

He nods as the cop barks something, but I ignore him and stare at Nevaeh’s father.

“I’ll find her, I promise.”

I turn and run with G right beside me. Cops are shouting at us to stop, but I don’t think they’d shoot us in the back. Ignoring my bike, I run for Ambros, who is sitting in his Corvette on the phone.

I yank the door open and climb in. G slips into the back. “Go before they stop us.”

Ambros drops his phone and does as I ask without hesitation. “Where are we going?”

I pass the cell phone to G, who starts giving directions.

Pulling out my own phone, I call Midas.

“Prez? G called. I’ve got Circus and Capone on the way to the hospital right now. Any news on Nevaeh?”

“Her dad put a tracker on her car. We’re following it right now.”

“Jesus, I can’t even be pissed. Tell me what you need?”

“Keep Amity contained. Get the club lawyer down to the precinct in Flemington for Nevaeh’s dad. He saved her from Driller. We owe him.”

“On it. I’ll call now. Want me to send some guys your way?”

“No, we’re heading closer to Hannibal’s chapter. I’m calling him next.”

“Keep me posted.”

He hangs up, so I dial Hannibal. It rings and rings for what feels like forever, until finally, a female voice answers.

“Hello?”

“Lola, put Hannibal on the phone now.”

“He’s in the shower.”

“I don’t give fuck. Your ex-fuck piece just attacked my old lady. You get Hannibal on the phone right now, or I’ll hold you accountable for whatever happens to her,” I growl.

A few minutes later, Hannibal answers. “What the fuck did you say to my old lady?”

“Nevaeh’s been kidnapped. We’re tracking her, but I could use some help, and you’re closer.”

“Fuck. I’m leaving now. Just tell me where to go.”

“G will text you directions.” I hang up and rub my hand over my face. “Do we know who the fuck this guy is and what he wants with Nevaeh?” Ambros asks.

“He was her neighbor when she was a kid. It’s possible he was the one who kidnapped her sister.”

“Fucking hell, you’re serious? Wait, could this be the guy trolling her? It can’t be a coincidence.”

I look back at G furiously typing away on his cell phone.

“Motherfucker. In 1989, Alan Ellwick and Jasper Markham were cellmates. Ellwick did three years for aggravated sexual assault and spent the end of his sentence in the infirmary after he was attacked. Guess who saved him?”

“Markham. And what’s the betting Markham felt like Ellwick owed him for it?”

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