Page 17 of Downward Dawg
This can’t be how things shake out. I can’t lose her. I’ve just fuckin’ found her, goddammit.
“Holy fuck, man. They took your Ella?” The anguish in Rocker’s voice echoed the pain building in Mad Dawg’s chest.
That was the truth, wasn’t it? She was his Ella, and these motherfuckers had taken her. Put their hands on her. Bloodied and bruised her.My Ella. Fuckin’ mine.
“They’re gonna pay.” The words gritted from between his teeth, jaw clenched tight to stop the screams threatening to escape. “I’m gettin’ her back right the fuck now. Motherfuckers did the exact wrong thing.”
“Goddamn right they did. Doesn’t matter who they are, they’re gonna figure out they’ve kicked the wrong beehive. Hold tight, though. Let me make a couple of calls. We’ll get some more brothers over here. Hold it together, my friend.” Rocker bumped his shoulder. “You need to flip her sign to closed? Let the pretty biddies outside know she’s sick or some shit?”
His back was to the front of her studio, but glancing up at the reflection in the mirrors showed him what Rocker was talking about. There were probably twenty women standing on the front walk, waiting. A few of them had cupped their hands to try and see through the sunscreen film.
“Yeah.” He clenched his hands, careful not to crease the photo.My Ella.“Fuck, man, no, I can’t do that. I can’t talk to them. Don’t think I can talk to anybody. Fuck. I’m not together enough. Can you, brother? Can you take care of it?”
“You betcha,” Rocker responded immediately, clapping a hand to Mad Dawg’s bicep as he walked past, towards the front door. “Ladies, ladies, I’ve got some bad news for you.” The rattle of the door closing cut off his words, but in the reflection, Mad Dawg could see the women drifting away. Except for a couple who’d clustered closer to Rocker.
Motherfucker will probably come away from this with digits.He wanted to be angry at Rocker, but every bit of his emotion was focused on the motherfuckers who’d taken his Ella.
He looked at the picture again, this time focusing on everything he could see thatwasn’tElodie.
Gotta think. Gotta find her.
Gray car paint, gray carpeting inside the trunk. The shape of the trunk said sedan, and the gleam of the bumper indicated it was relatively new. The carpeting wasn’t dirty or stained, and there was a little sticker to one side. He looked closer, making out a cleaning company logo. Probably rented, then. The license wasn’t in the image, though.Fucking hell.
Rocker appeared back beside him. “All locked up, brother. Told them she’d fallen ill, and would post on her website if she couldn’t make other classes. Covered.”
“Look at this.” Mad Dawg shoved the image towards Rocker. “It’s a fucking rental, Rocker. Dammit. I mean, a rental? Fuck, that’s just great. Great. We’re looking for a gray sedan, rental. There’s gotta be a thousand of those on the roads around here.”
“Maybe, but maybe not. It’s something. Pair that with the fuckin’ map, and we might have enough to find out who.” Rocker turned the image over to inspect the back. “It’s one of those portable instant photos. There’s not many of those around here. Smaller than a regular Polaroid. I wonder if there’s a local place to buy the film? We can look for that too.”
“Look for photo paper? I don’t think it’s just anyone off the street. You were right when you called out the HHMC. Who the fuck would do this if not those assholes?” Mad Dawg shook his head. “No, they somehow figured out she was important to me and decided to hit me where it’d hurt the most. It’s them, dammit.Fuck. They could have firebombed the shop and insurance woulda taken care of everything. No, they took something that can’t be replaced.”
“Yeah, but we know the entirety of the HHMC aren’t fucknuggets. I’m betting it’s one single, ambitious motherfucker who’s decided you’re how he’s going to make his patch. They’ve got a different process than us, we know that.” Rocker rested one closed fist on Mad Dawg’s shoulder, pounding gently. He shrugged away, not wanting the reassurance. “Hell, it’s different from most clubs. I guess when your focus is on dragging in the most money, any way, any how, it’ll also be the focus for members. Ain’t right, what they do, but that’s their business. It has been, at least. Until it crosses paths with us.”
“Jesus. They got Ella, man. I don’t care if some asshole’s lookin’ to buy his officer patch with a donation. All I want is her back safe.” He shoved the picture into his pocket, hands clenching into fists, nails digging half-moon craters in his palms. Cold, trembling with rage, Mad Dawg fought to hold it together. Images of her filled his mind, the brilliance of her remembered smile failing to warm him. “I gotta get her back, Rocker. I need her back.” His heart pounded in his ears, nearly deafening him.
“Same, brother. We all want her safe. But we gotta be smart about it. We also want you safe.” Rocker’s fingers dug into the leather of Mad Dawg’s vest, pulling tight and stopping him when he would have walked away.
“You son of a bitch, let me go. Fuck what happens to me. I don’t care. I just gotta get her back.” He leaned closer, voice raising to an angry shout. “She’s fuckin’ mine, man. Mine.” He slapped a palm against his chest, covering the spot where she loved to rest her cheek. “She’s mine. And they’ve got her.”
A rumble of motorcycles died in the alley and the back door opened a moment later, Tinder walking through. “What do we know?”
Rocker released Mad Dawg and reached out a hand, clasping Tinder’s while Mad Dawg stood stock still, fingers again curled into fists. If he moved, he was afraid he’d fall to pieces, shattered by the threat of loss.She’s mine, and everyone better fucking understand. I’ll do anything needed to get her back.
“Tell me, brother.” Tinder’s hand landed on Mad Dawg’s shoulder.
He pulled in a harsh breath and held it for a count of four, then blew it out slowly.Box breathing, like I did with her.Hold on, Ella. For God’s sake, hold on.“Ella’s studio was unlocked, alarm still set, but her car’s out back. None of my shit was bothered. Nothing else is out of place. It’s them, Tinder. It’s gotta be HHMC. They took Ella and left a note with a map. They must have clocked the prospect outside and took him down, but he’ll be okay. He was waking up when the guys got here. Cage was likely a rental. Looks to be a nondescript gray sedan. But I don’t know what they want. They took her and then just left the map, brother.” His hands started shaking and he squeezed his eyes closed. “But they’ve got my Ella, man. They’ve got her.” Opening his eyes to stare at Tinder, he willed his friend and brother to understand. “My Ella.”
Tinder looked over the note and photo, then handed them to Rocker as he stared at Mad Dawg from underneath his brows. “We know it’s HHMC for sure? A scribbled piece of paper and a picture? That’s it? Nothing else? Nothing at your shop? Fuck, man, this isn’t much. We need more before we start a war.”
“Yeah,” Rocker agreed, and Mad Dawg shot a venom-filled glare at him. Fury boiled through his veins at what felt like betrayal.
He shook his head, rejecting their flawed thinking. “You don’t understand, man. I don’t need more. It’s enough for me. There’s a fuckin’ map, man. It’s not up for discussion. Jesus Christ, I’ll walk in and trade myself for her if I need to.”
“The fuck you will, man.” Tinder shook his head, gaze softening. “Mad Dawg, trust us. If they took her, you and I both know they won’t just let her go, brother. If it is them, you go in there like that, and it’d be the two of you in the HHMC hands then.”
“The map alone is enough.” He angled away to reach for the paper as Rocker yanked it back. “Motherfucker, give that back.”
“Half a minute, brother. Trust.” Tinder’s voice was low, and when Mad Dawg looked at him, the expression on his face had turned grim. “We’re all workin’ on it. Every one of us. We got people coming in. I agree with you that it’s likely HHMC. And I agree that this cannot go unanswered. But this will be war, man.War. I get it. They took your woman by force, and that’s a fuckin’ tragedy besides bein’ scary as hell. Brother, you gotta think with your head. I don’t wanna do this more than once. That means when we get the info needed we’ll hit them, and we’ll fuckin’ do it with force. No solo runs. Zero chances of fuckin’ up. We can’t risk that. Not with your woman in their hands. No goddamned do-overs here.”
