Page 108 of Patching Over

My duffel waiting at the door, I head into our kitchen to see if I can find some caffeine. Coffee or a frosty soda; makes no difference to my system, I just know I have to have it since I’m going to need the extra energy boost if I’m going to headout looking for Sleeper’s sister. With the lack of sleep streaming through my system, the last thing I want to do is make any mistakes or become one with the asphalt.

“Hey, brother,” I quietly say when I see Brick with his little one curled against his chest, sound asleep and drooling.

“What has you up?” he asks, not lowering his own voice. At my raised brow, he smirks. “Ryleigh read something that indicates if you use your normal tone of voice when a baby’s sleeping, they won’t startle as easily. Personally, I think we should try that theory out in the shop office myself. If she can sleep with all the bikes revving and machines going, she can sleep through anything, even our rowdy voices.”

“Well, I guess it makes sense,” I reply. “What’s the word I want… oh, I know, it desensitizes her, and considering we all live here, it’s never truly quiet.”

“We’re at our place as much as we’re here, I really think because of how she grew up, Ry feels better when she’s around everyone.”

“I would too. None of us will let anyone harm a hair on her head, and considering she’syourol’ lady and Banshee’s sister? Pretty sure the two of you would destroy the person who thought they could try to hurt her.”

“Absolutely. Now, what has you up at three fucking thirty in the morning? It’s a weekend, none of our shit’s open except the bar, and that won’t open until later. Plus, you don’t work it unless needed.”

“Got a call from Sleeper out of Cleveland, Brick. His sis and one of her friends were down here to be counselors at some camp or some shit like that, and they saw on some cameras their IT guy accessed where both girls were kidnapped.”

“Jesus, do you have any of the coordinates?” he barks out, standing, and pulling out his phone. “And you’re not going by yourself. Something like this requires back up. Let me getKracken’s ass up. I’ve had word from one of the Texas chapters that there’s a group of scum who they’ve infiltrated, but before they could totally shut them down, several managed to escape and scatter. It’s possible they came this way and are dishing out some of their bullshit in our town. We need to nip that in the bud before they get too cozy and settle down in our neck of the woods.”

“Sleeper was sending them to me so I knew where to start, but he was also forwarding them to Hawg since I’m sure he’ll be able to dive into places that Sleep’s guy might be unaware of locally. Shit, I don’t know what I’m saying, they can probably all go there, right?” I question, walking over to the coffee pot.

Seeing that the pot is fresh, I pull down my favorite mug, pour a cup, and doctor it the way I prefer to drink it, then move over to the table where I sit down and pull out my phone. While Brick talks in the background, presumably to Kracken from the sound of it, I open up my texts and see one sitting and waiting for me from Sleeper with a bunch of added information as far as where Belle and Moira were when they were taken, where her car is currently located, and an approximate time of arrival.

At least I’ve got maybe five or so hours. The trip time is longer, but I’m positive Sleep isn’t going to be watching the speedometer, so I’m sure he’ll shave off at least an hour, likely more, in order to get down here.

“Yeah, Brother. We’ve got some of the best fucking IT guys in this club, someone will be able to find something to help us help our Cleveland brother. Kracken said he’ll be down in fifteen, Hawg buzzed in and is already headed into his office, and I’ll reach out to Dragon in Cedar Creek to have him send me whatever information he’s got on this cult so we can determine if this is the same group or not.”

“With all of us out searching, and our IT guys hitting the web, we shouldn’t have any problems finding them quick, Pres,” I reply.

Fucking famous last words.

CHAPTER

TWO

Belle

“We’re the perfect age to be camp counselors, Belle,” Moira whines, flopping back on my bed.

I giggle but don’t stop putting my clothes away. “So, you want to oversee a bunch of snotty, prepubescent boys and girls all summer long? Yeah, sounds likeno funto me, Mo.” She’s always scheming and coming up with ideas that I’m not excited about, but somehow end up joining her on.

“Hot guys, kayaking on the river, swimming in the heated pool they have on the premises for the kids, suntans,adventures,” she adds. “Did I mention the hot guys, Belle? You know what we’ve met so far at school, and you won’t introduce me to any of your brother’s friends.”

“Okay, first of all, ewww, my brother’s like ten or fifteen years older than me, at least,” I retort, shuddering. “I mean, he’s overthirtynow, Moira!”

“Just means he and his friends know what to do is all,” she teases, rolling away from the brush I toss in her direction.

“They want to meet us today?” I ask, already caving a little bit. We graduate after this last semester once summer’s over, so this is kind of our last gasp of freedom before the ‘real world’ intrudes and takes over our lives.

My big brother’s awesome, of course, and between the grants I got for school, and his help paying tuition it doesn’t cover as well as my necessities, I won’t have any real student loan debt once I cross the stage, which is fantastic. Plus, years ago, he set up an account for me and every month, he deposits money into it, and his club rents the small bungalow that Moira and I share. Still, being able to earn my own money has me kind of excited about the opportunity that Moira’s currently presenting as though her life depends on it.

“Yeah, I told them we could meet at the burger shop. We’ll kill two birds with one stone since we need to eat anyhow. Um, one thing, though.” When she pauses like this, it’s a sure sign of things getting bumpy. But seeing as she and I are good bumper car drivers, we can navigate nearly anything and come out with only a few bumps and bruises… since that’s life, which is never a smooth ride for anyone.

“What’s that?” I ask.

I glance at my best friend and shake my head. How on earth she stays as tiny as she does is beyond me; she literally eats from the time her eyes pop open until she goes to bed at night. She does have something going on with her metabolism, so if she doesn’t eat like that, she ends up losing too much weight. Never thought I’d even think this, but someone can be too thin, and Mo now knows what she has to do in order to stay out of the hospital.

Me on the other hand? Well, I work out several times a week, participate in local 5k races, and also use the local school system’s aquatic center to swim laps. But that’s because I enjoy eating, not because I’m trying to stay in a size ten. Hell, a sizeten for me would only happen if I developed whatever it is that Mo’s got. I’m a fourteen on a good day, a sixteen if I’ve got my period and have commiserated with copious amounts of chips, salsa, and queso. I’ll probably always have my tiny pooch, and since I’m okay with it, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I love who I am and am happy when I look in the mirror, so screw everyone else and what society views as beautiful. To me, I’m sexy, and nobody’s ever complained about my scrumptious curves, so there’s that.

“Well, the camp’s down in the mountains of Virginia, not too far from someplace called Roanoke.”

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