Page 35 of Redemption

Do not laugh. Comfort her, do not …I try repeating the words fast enough, but it’s no use, nor is there any covering the shaking with the laughter I’m holding in.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just.” My words cut off when I catch the flash of anger in her eyes as she pulls herself up to her full height. “That’s sweet.”

I barely get the last two words out, before the laughter I’m holding in gets the best of me and all I can do is hope she still talks to me when I can get myself under control long enough to point out that, unlike the backwoods swamp where she grew up, cameras are much more effective where we are.

She storms off in the direction of the bathrooms and I see Roman approaching me.

“Everything alright?” he asks, looking over his shoulder at the sound of a door slamming.

“It will be, as long as Ford rescues Grace,” I tell him, realizing that I needed that laugh as much as Sloane needed to cry.

“I checked in with Crasher. Tyrant shook some trees and got word that the Wretched asswipes might be involved,” he informs me, removing a pack of cigarettes from his cut. I shake my head before he has the chance to offer one, so he lights his own before continuing. “They passed the information to Ford’s guys already, but there’s no sign of them in our neck of the woods. At least since they hit our truck and went running for cover. You wanna tell me what was so funny?”

“Sloane wants to help,” I answer with a shrug, cutting off the rest of my comment when I see her approaching us.

“I wasn’t laughing at you, Sloane,” I say stepping past Roman to get back in her good graces.

“I know she can’t be tracked with dogs on highways, but I’ve seen them in action before and I just meant I wanted to help in some way,” she explains, thankfully not seeing the look on Roman’s face at the mention of dogs.

He has a scar from a gnarly bite when he was younger and still avoids them at all costs.

“With it being Grace, I can’t imagine that Ford’s going to want Vector anywhere near this,” Roman tells her, trying to be helpful.

The glare I shoot his ways has him throwing his hands up in frustration.

“This is a big pride thing, isn’t it?” Sloane asks as Roman heads to the john, leaving me to deal with Sloane. “Ford is head over heels for Grace and needs to be the one to save her.”

“Sloane, I’m here if they need me. In the meanwhile, Crasher is at the ready for anything Ford needs, but he’s got the Demon Chasers and will move heaven and earth to bring Grace home. Me inserting myself, will cause more problems without helping Grace.”

“Let’s get home,” she sighs, sounding exhausted.

*

Countless times over the next couple of days, Sloane looks at me, hope on her face as she silently wonders if I’ve heard anything. I’m certain Ford will get word to me once he rescues Grace, and I grin to myself at the thought of how that’s going to go.

Ford and I aren’t close, but I know him well enough to imagine him going scorched earth until he has her back by his side.

Meanwhile Sloane’s words from the other morning stay with me -be worthy of Grace’s forgiveness- and give me new purpose. There is one person in particular who has never doubted me or let me down, and I promise myself that once Bridget’s back from Arizona, I’ll tell her about my leg.

Although, I suspect my sister knows more than she’s ever let on.

Roman and a couple of my other brothers are also on that short list of people I’d trust with the knowledge, but there would be hell to pay if I didn’t come clean to Bridget first.

“Prez,” Tyrant calls out and I realize I’ve been staring at the dead air in front of me. Looking over my shoulder, I see him and Crasher standing just behind me. “We may have a lead on the Rebels.”

With a tilt of my head, I invite them to follow me back to my office.

“What’d you find?” I ask, circling behind my desk to see I’d left my phone there and I had a few missed calls.

“Oak was running some errands and he saw Rouge loading up a cart like she was shopping for the end of the world. He figured since Risky takes care of stocking our kitchen, and Rouge kept looking behind her, he’d follow her,” Tyrant informs me, as I check to make sure that I haven’t missed a call from Sloane or Ford. But it looks like Oak had been trying to reach me himself.

“She and Any were always close, so who’s Any shacking up with?” I instantly connect the dots, seeing where this is going.

“I looked up the property,” Crasher says, picking up the story. “From the last name, I’m assuming it belongs to Any’s grandparents. Oak said that Any met Rouge at the head of the driveway. He was far enough back that he didn’t think they noticed him when they were shifting the supplies betweenvehicles. He waited until they parted, then got closer—lots of motorcycle tracks on the dirt road, but he didn’t want to take the chance of being seen so he didn’t try to approach the house.”

“Is he heading back?” I ask, getting a nod in reply. “Good …”

Movement on one of the security screens catches my attention and I grin when I recognize the old Civic, looking between the men in front of me while I make my decision.

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