Page 149 of Patching Over

This catches the room's attention. All eyes turn to her when Butcher asks, “Who? Who is she, Lah?”

“She’s Moira. We have to go back, Butcher. We must go find her, I’m the only one who knows the people who will lead us to her.”

“Brick?” Butcher turns to him.

Selah looks at Brick and states, “I’ll make a list of locations I’m aware of. We can stop along the route and pick up a laptop so I can trace all of their resources. I’ll take down the firewall I created so they’re easier to find and get you what you need to take them down, and when I do, be ready to move fast because you can’t cover all of the hideouts they have at their disposal at once, there’s too many.”

My heart is beating so hard, I can hear the blood rushing through my veins as I stand on unsteady feet and approach my president. “Brick,” I plead, my voice cracking. I don’t know what I’m asking for exactly, I just know if there’s a chance they’re going to hit the road to find Moira, I want to be with them.

“Go with them, Brother. But pick a few men to go with you so they can have your back. No brother rides alone, and you and Butcher are going to need backup while Selah works her magic on the computer,” Brick commands.

The second his instructions leave his lips, chaos ensues. The clubhouse comes alive with activity as Butcher and Selah head upstairs to pack up their belongings. I’m following behind them when she sees Belle and stops. She hands her what is apparently a picture and says, “We’re going to bring Moira home, Belle.”

“Thank you,” Belle says through her sobs, clutching the portrait of her and her friend tightly in her hands. “Thank you.”

I hurry to my room and quickly pull my duffel bag out of my closet. Within minutes, I have my essentials from the bathroom packed, as well as several changes of clothes. Adding ammo to the bottom of the bag, I double check my gun and slide it into the inside pocket of my cut. My wallet has the basics for gas and food, and I know, if necessary, Brick will get us more. We’re bringing one of ours home and I know that I’ll personally pull out all of the stops to ensure it’s sooner rather than later.

We’ve been on the road for a while, and I’ve been ignoring most of the chatter between Selah and Butcher, my mind on one thing and one thing only. Finding Moira and bringing her home. My internal thoughts are interrupted when I hear Scythe.

“Holy shit, you two. Not all of us have a woman to room with. May wanna switch channels so we aren’t all envisioning the horizontal tango,” Scythe whistles. “Fuck, my dick’s as hard as a rock and I don’t even want your woman. No offense, Selah, I just don’t dip my stick in another man’s oil pan.”

“None taken,” Selah replies through a laugh. “Seeing as my oil pan isn’t up for the taking, I appreciate you not wanting to dip your stick in it.”

“When we stop for the evening, make sure it’s in a town big enough with a bar,” Scythe requests. “I think my oil needs to be changed.”

At that, all of us start laughing, and begin giving Scythe a hard time. While I realize we’re working against time, we’re still hours away from where Butcher found Selah, so we might as well talk. It helps keep us focused and alert since most motorists tend to ignore bikers.

“In a foreign town, you don’t know if that shit is clean or if it’s full of lumps and corrosion,” Phantom states, his laughter contagious, keeping the others talking in an uproar of humor. He’s our cleaner and I’m glad he’s with us because I think it’s going to be messy.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find a female mechanic with the mouth of a hoover and have that shit suctioned out,” Scythe banters.

I can hear and see Selah laughing her ass off as she clutches onto Butcher, which adds to the hilarity of the situation. Scythe is typically quiet, talking only when he has something to say. For some reason, he’s being a Chatty Cathy, but it may have more to do with easing Selah’s mind about traveling with a group of rough and tough bikers.

“Make them stop or I’m gonna pee my pants,” Selah gasps out.

“Sounds like we also need to hit up a town that has a laundromat,” I tease, smirking behind my visor. “Are we riding straight through, or are we stopping somewhere along the way?” I ask.

While I’d love to drive straight through, I know that’s not something Selah is used to, so if we have to take a break, we have to take one. I’ll deal.

“We have to stop between here and there,” Butcher replies. “Selah needs to get a laptop so she can start breaking down their protection software and linking her findings to Hawg so he can start working at deciphering their pattern. If by any chance, Moira has been spotted and recaptured by them, we need a direction to go so we can get her back.”

“They better not lay another goddamn finger on her,” I growl out. She’s endured so much,too much, and I’m afraid if they’ve recaptured her, we’ll never get her back.

“No matter if they have or haven’t, we’re gonna get her back and burn their organization to the ground,” Butcher vows, making me a promise.

“Damn skippy we are,” Selah says, agreeing with her old man. “Oooh, where can we get our hands on some flamethrowers?”

“The fuck do you need one of those for, woman?” Butcher asks.

I kind of want to know the same thing seeing as she’s petite as fuck. Those things aren’t light by any means, and I have a visual of her tipping over after she engages the trigger.

“When I first got away, I used to fantasize about burning all of their facilities to the ground and watching them as they were incinerated. It’d be nice to see that dream come to life,” she answers.

“The smell of burning flesh is more disturbing than what you’re thinking it is,” Banshee warns her. “Your nostrils will never work the same again once you’ve smelled that.”

“I’m with her,” I announce. “I wouldn’t mind burning them and their things to ash.”

“Of course, you are,” Jingles mumbles, snorting. “We’d all enjoy watching them burn, but Brother, we don’t want to bring the attention of the law on us. We need to figure out a way to make them pay in a quieter way.”

---