Page 50 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

I give each of them a poker chip for our casino good for $1,000 each, they help me pack up the car, and then I havethe task of driving home and coming up with the correct words to ask Keyshawn…Will you stay with me, forever?

I want her to stay.More than anything.

My nerves startto get bad when I draw closer to the house. When I look up at the front door from my driveway, my stomach lurches.It’s open.

I stopthe car the second I notice the open door and jump out. The puppy whines in the backseat, but all the noises around me fade into a background blur.This is wrong. Very fucking wrong.

“KEYSHAWN?”

I runinto the house and set the flowers down on the first surface I find.

I needto get my gun.

The place is fucking trashed.I smell cigarette smoke, like the smell is only halfway cleared out of the room. Recent, but not too recent. I don’t feel right in the head. Emotions that I never allowed myself to feel before rush forward as I stumble over the rubble strewn across my entryway, screaming my old lady’s name.

She’s pregnant.Too pregnant to get far. If she had taken the Ducati out front, I would feel better. Or if I knew where the hell she was.

“KEYSHAWN!”My lungs rattle as her name echoes around my empty house. I can hear the dog whining outside. I feel sick to my stomach. The background noise blurs into silence again as a new item draws my attention. I need to get a gun, butthisstops me in my tracks.

There’san envelope on the kitchen counter. Bright red, so even in my blind fury, I recognize it against the white marble. My stomach lurches.She ran away.I rip the envelope open and inside, there’s a handwritten letter.

I’m goingto marry this woman. This can’t be happening because I’m going to marry her.I don’t want to believe Keyshawn wrote this, but I recognize her handwriting – and her signature.

Dear Deacon,

I am leavingyou forever to start a new life in CANADA. Do not follow me. I do not want to be with you ever and hate you, lowkey. I will give our baby to a nice Christian family. Do NOT try tofind me.

– Keyshawn

This might beKeyshawn’s handwriting, but nothing about this note screamsKeyshawn.Still, I can’t underestimate this situation. Whoever wrote this note trashed my house and kidnapped the woman I want to marry.

I get my pistol out from underneath the sink with one hand and use the other to call Southpaw.

“Yes?”he answers the phone impatiently. I hear baby talk in the background. “I’m feeding my child. What do you want?”

“I’m just letting you know that I’m dropping off the map for a little bit. I need to go clean up a mess.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know yet. But they messed with something that belongs to me.”

“How long–

I hang up.I only called Wyatt out of courtesy. I don’t need to explain myself or how I handle this particular type of business. Every minute Keyshawn spends out of my sight, her life is in danger. I can’t handle this alone. I call Ruger back.

“Did she say yes?”

“We have a big fucking problem.”

“What happened?”

“Somebody kidnapped Keyshawn.I need help, Ruger.”

“Areyou sure she didn’t run off.”

“YES. I’m sure. Meet me at the casino.Now.”

“I can’t do a job like that for free with–

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