Page 39 of Strider's Misstep

I don’t want to breathe the same air. I swallow a couple of times, wondering whether this woman is really me. Then realise I’d become hardened when my father took his life in front of me. If Barclay had been someone different, someone kind and caring as Dad originally thought he would be, I’d still have one parent alive. Barclay deserves no mercy from me. “Take care of him.”

The speed in which she twists his neck, killing him without second thought, startles me. But I’ve no emotion other than elation when the man who tortured me, who promised me more suffering, falls dead at my feet.

She’s totally unemotional when she turns to me. “Now, we’ve got to get out of here.”

But Barclay’s dead. Surely my nightmare is over? I’m now a free woman.

My brain rattles in my head as she shakes me. “Come on, Jasmine. Barclay’s got men upstairs. You think they won’t want to avenge his death and get some compensation for the loss of their pay ticket and boss?”

Her actions and words bring me to my senses.

We might have felled a major tree, but we’re certainly not out of the woods yet. I swallow, straighten my back, and get ready to fight.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

STRIDER

“Where the fuck are they?” I repeat again. Memories slam into my head, pictures of past events flashing through my mind. The accident which left Anna with a concussion, the guilt I’d felt at the time, magnified a hundred fold when she’d gotten her diagnosis. The acceptance, now, that our marriage wouldn’t have stood the test of time if I hadn’t felt so damn responsible for her. And, the realisation, I’d done the best that I could. That I owed nothing further to her.

If I’d been the one to go first, I wouldn’t have wanted Anna to waste the rest of her life, to live lonely and alone, mourning lost opportunities. I’d be doing her a disservice to think she’d not feel the same way.

Thinking back, my Anna, the one I fell in love with, wouldn’t have wanted me to waste time.

She’d have liked Jasmine. If she’d allowed herself to have a relationship with the club, I could have seen them being friends. And, of course, she used to read the same books as Jasmine writes.

I can have Jasmine and still honour Anna’s memory.

But I’ve got to find her and rescue her first.

The phone rings. Chaz, obviously going through the same version of hell, reaches for it, but I get there first, putting it immediately on speaker.

“Mayhem here,” the voice of our Californian member sounds. Without preamble, he enlightens us. “The van disappeared into an underground parking lot…”

“Where?” I interrupt. “We’re ready to go now.” I raise my hand to tee up my men.

“Hold your fuckin’ horses. There’d be no point. It’s under a bank. Most likely, they’ve changed vehicles now.”

Chaz’s face is thunderous. “We’ve fuckin’ lost them?”

Mayhem sounds unperturbed. “Trying a different tactic. Looking into businesses Barclay owns and those he’s associated with. Got a few of locations…”

“Give us them,” I demand. “We’ll check them out.”

Patiently, Mayhem waits while Chaz demands the same thing, only using a few different words, and then again, calmly states, “As expected, Barclay had all charges against him dismissed. He’s a free man. Well, except for the tracker that I got someone at the courthouse to put on him. He’s going to lead us to the women. You’ve just got to be patient and ready to ride once we know where he’s headed.”

Raking my hands through my hair, I glare at the phone. “He let his goons rape her before. What’s the difference now? She’s worth more to him dead than alive.” My fist hits the table. “We’ve got no fuckin’ time to spare. We’ve got to get to her before he does.”

Chaz’s hand covers mine. “Brother, I fuckin’ hear you. My Queenie’s involved as well. The risk is worse for her. She’s nothing to Barclay except for another female body they might beable to profit from. Don’t you think I’m going mad here, thinking of what might be happening to her?”

Shrugging him off, I snarl, “Then you see my point. We can’t sit here doing nothing.”

“Then what the fuck do you think we should be doing?” Shotgun suddenly roars. “Prez, I hear you. All of us are worried sick about what’s happening to Jasmine and Helo right now. But if we split ourselves thin, tear off in different directions, we might miss our chance completely or not be in the right place when they need us around.”

“Jasmine’s resilient,” Tequila backs him up. “She’s a survivor. She’s gotten through what a lot of women couldn’t before. Mayhem’s plan gives us the best fuckin’ chance of rescuing her.”

“They might be hurting her,” I roar, standing so fast my chair flies over.

Shaking his head, Shotgun moves behind me, rights it, and squeezes his fingers on my shoulder. “If she’s hurt, then you,we, can put her back together. If she’s dead…” His voice trails off, but he’s made his point.

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