Page 19 of Strider's Misstep

Heading to the bar, I rap on the top when the prospect doesn’t turn to me immediately.

“Jack,” I demand once I have his attention. Then, casting my eye around, I don’t see the person I’d prepared myself to see. “Where’s Jas?” I snap.

It’s not the prospect, but Buzz who answers me, his sudden bark from behind making me swing around as he repeats, “Where’s Jasmine?” His eyes are open wide, and his head is shaking. His forehead furrows. “You know where she is.”

“If I fuckin’ knew, I wouldn’t be asking.”

“Well, she’s not fuckin’ here. She’s gone.” Clearly seeing my look of disbelief, Buzz’s frown deepens. “What the fuck did you say or do to her, Prez?”

At least he’s still giving me the respect of my title. I suppose that’s something. Draining the shot of Jack in one swallow, I brush my hand over my mouth, glance around to make sure no one else is within hearing, and lean in close before I say softly, “I read that book you gave me. Knew she was developing feelings for me. So I took her to see Anna, show her why she had to shut those emotions down. That there was no way I could reciprocate them.” Buzz has been one of my closest friends since I joined the club, and there’s nothing he doesn’t know about me. He’s known Anna, met her, and knew she was always there in the background. Had been my sounding block when I needed to vent, first about my wishes she’d be more involved in the club, then was there for me every step of the way since her diagnosis a long ten years back.

His reaction isn’t what I expect. “You fuckin’ what?” Buzz shakes his head in disbelief, his eyes widening as he stares at me. “You’re head over heels for Jasmine.”

My mouth drops open. I thought I’d hid my feelings better than that. I never concealed that I was attracted to her. Sure, my monopolising her services, even after I no longer used them, was a huge fucking sign. But love? I open my mouth to deny it and find that I can’t. I shouldn’t. My loyalty lies in a different direction. Leaving aside the question of how Buzz can so easily read me, I explain why I must obfuscate. “I’ve got Anna?—”

He doesn’t accept it and doesn’t let me finish. “You’ve got a living corpse. A woman you were going to divorce years ago.” He rubs at the sides of his temples. “A woman you only stayed with out of misplaced guilt.” Rubbing salt in, he adds, “A woman you fell out of love withbeforeshe got ill.”

“Did I?” I hiss, the old argument resurrecting in my head. “I met her, fell in love. Married her. Then she changed. Sure, I was going to leave her, but had she become someone else because the illness made her that way?”

“You’d already married in haste and had started repenting in leisure,” he throws back at me. “Don’t bullshit me. I was there.”

But it’s an unanswerable question. How much of it was the blossoming natural animosity between Anna and me, and how much was her own brain changing the woman I once loved? Had it been me who caused it? This isn’t the first time I’ve had this argument with him.

I try to get him back on point. “Where’s Jasmine gone?”

His eye roll is admirable. “Whatever you hoped to gain by taking her to see Anna, you must have fucked up. She took only one message from it—that she is no longer welcome in the club.” As I open my mouth to explain I said nothing of the sort, he tempers his words. “Or maybe the facts came as too much of a shock, the extent to which you’d been hiding things from her.” He holds out his hands in a defeated gesture. “We did our fuckin’ best to get her to stay, but she packed her bags and left. Other than taking her prisoner, there was nothing else we could do.” Seeing me go rigid and my look of shock, he softens slightly. “She left on good terms with us, and an understanding she could always come back.”

For a moment, I’m speechless. I need to speak to her. I need to explain. The loss I feel hits me like a blow to the chest. I take out my phone to call her. She misunderstood. I’d just wanted to show her why she shouldn’t develop feelings for me, as I wasn’t in a position to offer her a happily ever after. Not while Anna continued to breathe, and I couldn’t commit to how I’d feel once she was gone. The last thing I wanted was for her to leave the club. The phone connects, but the ringing sounds quite close to me.

With eyes narrowing, I watch Buzz take the device out of his pocket and show it to me. “Club phone. She left it in her room.”

My gut clenches as a chill goes down my spine and I spit out. “Tell me she took one of the club vehicles.”

The tightening of his jaw is the only answer I need. “Godfuckin’damnit!” I slam both palms down on the bar. It’s only a second before I yell, “Data. Get over here!”

Buzz steps back as Data arrives. I don’t even need to open my mouth before he’s answering me, concern lines etched on his face. “She’s off the grid. I don’t even know what name she’s using now. I’ve tried the name she gave us but come up with nothing, and Frobisher is also a miss.” He nods a Buzz. “I think you’re right and she’s using a new identity.”

Why wouldn’t Jasmine just be using her real name?Oh, I don’t doubt she’s got the smarts to do it, but the question is why. The only reason that comes to me is she hates me so much she’s doing everything she can so I can’t find her.No phone. No trackable vehicle. No fucking clue where to start.

Clenching my fists I feel emotions sweep through me I didn’t even know that I had. Clarity comes to me, far too late. Buzz was right. Anna and my marriage was already on the rocks before Picks Disease hit. The love for her had already been lost. But the guilt that I might have been responsible was a weight I’ve carried far too long. And couple that with the one thing she wanted I’d given to somebody else, the pregnancy, it had completely fucked with my brain. I’d lost everything when I made Jasmine terminate her,ourbaby. All because I thought I owed it to Anna, a woman who by then, couldn’t even tell down from up, let alone be able to understand what was happening.

Tequila joins our party. He nods at Data, who raises his chin back, as though they’re sharing a secret only known to them. But when Buzz tilts his head, I realise it’s a confidence shared by the three of them.

“Spit it out,” I demand.

Buzz shuffles, then asks, “You really have no idea, do you? Just how much of her book did you read?”

The question catches me by surprise. Sure, the plot was engaging, but I’m no reader. And I thought I’d read far enough. “I stopped at the part when the heroine fell for the Prez.”

It’s my enforcer who breathes out. “I think you ought to read the rest.”

Before I can comment, Buzz states, “I’ve read them all. You already know why. Club girl writing about an MC might let something slip. All the previous books were fine. Good, readable, but light. This last one though? It’s deep. Dark. Smacks of autobiographical to me.”

Tequila shakes his head, but his words are affirmative, he doesn’t deny Buzz’s assumption. “I thought that too.” His face tightens. “I hope to fuck we’re wrong, but if we’re not? Jasmine is in deep trouble.”

My enforcer isn’t a man to make a crisis out of nothing. He’s careful, takes time to weigh up all the facts and, to date, hasn’t led me wrong. A cold feeling settles in my gut as I realise I can’t dismiss their concerns just because I hope that they’re making something out of nothing.

“Okay,” I breathe out. “Tell me what’s so bad in this book that she wrote.”

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