“Definitely. He doesn’t even know where we’re going.” Bellamy took the ramp that would take them west for an hour. She didn’t hesitate to push on the gas.
“Where exactly are we going?” Calliope asked.
“Gunnison. They’re in some residential area. In the 3D image, the house is a brick ranch. It was really kind of cute.” Bellamy gave a signal and moved out to pass someone going way too slow.
Calliope knew she was going to have the wrath of the club come down on her, but she didn’t really care right now. She might later, but right now, no. They hadn’t been dealing with this asshole as long as she had. She had first dibs the way she looked at it. God, to think she’d been a victim of hisagain. She was done being a victim. She was going to exorcise that demon out of her life once and for all and not lose a night’s sleep over it. The way she looked at it, she was taking an eye for an eye.
They drove in silence for a little while, each lost in their own thoughts. Bellamy broke it when she asked something unexpected. “So, Race. What’s his story?”
“Um, I don’t know much. Of all the Sons of Redemption, he’s the one I know the least about. You’d have to ask Jackson. I do know that Jackson really likes him and respects him, so there’s gotta be something good about him. Why?”
“No reason.” She shrugged her shoulder. “I just thought he was really hot and he felt like he was really built under that vest thing they wear.”
Calliope laughed. Did her friend have a crush on Race? “Were you feeling him up when he gave you a ride on his bike to Jackson’s house? And it’s called a cut, not a vest.”
“Maybe a little.” Bellamy was trying hard not to smile and was quickly losing the battle. She cut a look to Calliope to see what she thought about her infatuation with Race. “Would going out with him be such a bad thing?”
“No. I guess not, but you have to realize these men in this biker club usually don’t settle for one woman. They like to try them all out and there’s no shortage of women throwing themselves at them. From the way Jackson tells it, they do one-night stands, not relationships.”
“Hmm. Good to know.” Bellamy’s face lit up as she spotted the sign for the turn off. “Look, there’s our exit. Check out the screen and see which way I go.”
Calliope navigated her to a fairly nice neighborhood. There were houses with decent size yards that would require a riding mower instead of a push mower. All the homes sat back a little ways from the street and all looked to be maybe twenty to thirty years old. “That one.” She pointed at a nondescript brick ranch style house. The yard was neatly mowed, the shrubs well trimmed. The curtains were all pulled closed, leaving them no way to see inside.
They didn’t see anyone outside, which she didn’t think there would be. She thought she would have seen more motorcycles parked out front, but she only saw four. The rest of them must have pulled into the garage. Bellamy drove by the house slowly, then passed it. She turned around in the driveway four houses down. She parked in front of the safe house’s neighbor and shut it off.
“You ready for this?” Bellamy asked.
Calliope released a deep breath, suddenly nervous and doubting going against Jackson’s wishes. She hated that she was going to be at odds with him over this, but she wasn’t lying when she said she needed her closure. If she didn’t get it, she was going to have to go into therapy or become a drunk. “Yeah. I’m going to need you to back me up once we get in there. They’re all going to gang up on me and try to get me to leave.”
Bellamy patted her arm. “I got your back, sister. Let’s do this.”
“Right,” Calliope mumbled and opened her door at the same time Bellamy did. They slowly approached the house, praying they didn’t get caught. They made it to the side of the house without incident and she let out the breath she’d been holding. Shit. She needed to remember to breathe or she was going to pass out and ruin everything.
“Look,” Bellamy nudged her arm with her elbow. She was pointing at a small basement window. It looked to be covered up with something, which was good. If they couldn’t see in, then whoever was inside couldn’t see out either. “I bet they have him in the basement.”
Calliope did a double-take. Was it her imagination or was Bellamy really getting into this covert crap? The scooted under a large window they were guessing was in the living room. They nodded at each other, then slowly moved up until they were peeking inside. Thank God. The curtains were slightly open and she could see through the gauzy white sheers underneath. Dagger was coming out of a door that she bet led to the basement. She watched him mosey down the hall and disappear behind another door. Probably a bathroom.
“Hurry!” She grabbed Bellamy’s arm and pulled her behind her. She made it to the front door and tried the door knob. “It’s open!” she whispered, her eyes open wide in shock. She twisted the knob and pushed it open slowly, praying it didn’t make any noise. When nobody came running, guns blazing, she snuck inside and quickly closed the door behind them. Moving quickly and as quietly as possible, she made it to the door they’d seen Dagger come out of. She cracked the door and head voices.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, beating on women?” That was Jackson’s voice and he was angry. She could hear what sounded like a fist meeting flesh and knew she had to get down there quick. They’d had an hour with him and there very well might not be anything left for her. She waved silently for Bellamy to follow her.
The sound of someone’s phone ringing drew her up short. Warrant’s song “Cherry Pie” started blaring. She looked over her shoulder to Bellamy. She had her hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh. Her shoulders were shaking and her eyes were tearing up.
“What the fuck is that? Who’s phone is that?”
“Who’s calling your phone?” Calliope whispered while keeping her eyes on what was going on below.
“Probably Tulsa calling from your phone since you didn’t bring your purse,” Bellamy responded, smiling from ear to ear.
They’d made it far enough down the stairs to see what was going on. So far, no one had seen them. They were too busy trying to figure out whose phone was ringing. At any other time the shocked looks on their faces would be priceless. Half of them had their mouths hanging open, the others had their eyes bugging out of their heads. She’d file this away for later so she and Bellamy could have a good laugh.
While the men were busy hunting down the phone, Calliope got her first good look at Clint. He was hanging from a wooden beam above him. His hands were bound with rope and the rope went through a hook fixed into the beam. His feet were on the floor, but it didn’t look as if his legs could support him anymore. His face was bruised and battered. One eye was swelling shut and his lip was split, blood and saliva drooling from his mouth. She knew she should probably be feeling sorry for him, but after everything he’d put her through she felt…nothing.
Her attention returned to the men once again. She watched as everyone looked at Trick. “It isn’t me.” He held his hands up at his sides, then pointed to where the music was coming from. “It’s Race.”
“What?” someone she couldn’t see blurted. It was hard not to laugh at their comical faces.
“It’s not mine,” Race said. He reached into one pocket and pulled out his silent cell phone. The phone stopped ringing, then immediately started up again. He reached into his other pocket and pulled out the offending phone. “Hello? What? Slow down.”