Page 18 of Downward Dawg
“You see the picture, Tinder? Did you fuckin’ see?” His chest tightened until he had to force the words out between stuttered breaths. When he reached for Tinder’s vest, it was with trembling hands. “They put their goddamned hands on her.”
“I saw it, brother. And I hear you, man. Loud and clear. But give me half a minute.” Tinder leaned his forehead against Mad Dawg’s. “I’d never put her at risk without reason.”
“I know. I know that in my head. I do.” Eyes burning, he squeezed them tightly closed. “But fuck, man.Fuck. We nearly got run off the road last night.” His eyes popped open at the memory. “Jesus Christ, man. Just last night, here in town, and it was a goddamned gray sedan. There’s gotta be cameras caught that shit.”
“Yup, there was. You called in that bullshit, which means we pulled the footage last night before it got overwritten. Denver’s still racing through it right now. And he’s pulled video from this morning too. We’re just waiting on his call.”
“Jesus. I thought they were just after me last night. Never fuckin’ crossed my mind they’d have picked Ella instead.”
“Might have saved her life, you hangin’ out with her so late.” Tinder gave him a cynical grin. “Sucks you had club business that pulled you away, but you and me are guaranteed that the prospect out there did his dead level best to keep her safe.”
“Yeah, I saw the condition of his hands.” Mad Dawg pulled in a rough breath, his body vibrating as anxiety and adrenaline warred in his body. “Jesus, Tinder. I don’t know how much longer I can wait, brother.”
Tinder’s phone gave a ting, followed by a repeated series of the sounds, and then rang as he was pulling it out. Instead of answering the call, he flipped to the text messages, sliding his thumb across the screen to move through the images. “Got them.” After that satisfied pronouncement, he lifted the phone and redialed the last call. “Yo, Denver, saw it all. Looks good, my brother. Looks really fuckin’ good. Got any news on that location from the map? Uh-huh. Yeah, I hear ya. Yeah. Okay, got that too. Send it to the group. Thanks, man. Good work.”
As Tinder disconnected the call, Mad Dawg crowded close. “What? What’d he send? What’d he say?”
“Map location is bogus. Likely an ambush setup to have your ass picked up. He got a good address, though, because the motherfucker who rented the car is a stupid dumbass who used his real information. Denver pulled more footage from close to the second address and confirmed the fuckin’ car is sittin’ bold as brass in the trailer’s driveway, and there are three bikes parked in a lean-to nearby.”
“What are we doing still standing here, then? Let’s go.”
A member stuck his head through the studio back door and looked around. “Mad Dawg, there’s a dude just came in over at the shop and said he’s got information for you. Pounded on the door until we let him in.”
“Let’s see what whoever it is has to say,” Tinder said, giving Mad Dawg a shove towards the door. “Come on. Won’t be but half a minute.”
“Everything with you is half a minute,” he griped, giving way to the steering hands of these men he trusted with his life.With Ella’s life.The realization steadied him. If Tinder felt there was enough time to divert for a moment, he’d go along with it.For now.
In his shop, Martini stood, staring down a three-pack of RMMC members who were between him and the front door. When Mad Dawg walked in the back, Martini turned and glared at him.
“Hey, man. Hey, I wanted to let you know about those two guys who were in here the other day. I saw them again.” He shuffled his feet. “They were putting gas in a car. Thumping fists on the trunk and laughing. I thought I heard a woman scream. When I started walking their way, they jumped in and drove off, yanked the gas handle from the pump and left with the rubber dragging behind them. Seemed important, like something you should know.”
“Did you see where they went?” Mad Dawg straightened. If Ella was in the trunk at the time, aware and able to yell, then she might yet be okay. “Follow them?”
“Yeah, from a ways behind, but I stayed with them. They stopped at a trailer over in the manufactured housing village out east of town. Second drive, and they’re in the third trailer house down.” He shrugged tightly. “I’d hazard a guess that from the studio being closed who it is they have. I’m—” He hesitated, then straightened his shoulders, lifting his chin. “Mad Dawg, if you need another set of hands, I’m down for helping you.”
“Appreciate it, brother.” Mad Dawg traveled the couple of steps separating them, then pulled Martini into a close clinch. The pounding on his shoulder lent him strength. “Means a fuck of a lot.”
“Sure thing. You should ride with us. If our brother Mad Dawg speaks for you, ya gotta be a good’un, for sure.” Tinder spoke up. “It’d be a blessing in disguise to find a good man out of this.”
Mad Dawg released Martini and spun to face Tinder, hands balled into fists once again.
“You fuckin’ call it a blessing again and I’d like to see what happens to your face.” Rocker spoke up, throwing an arm over Tinder’s shoulder and pulling him out of reach. He held out a placating palm to Mad Dawg. “From the expression our brother’s wearin’, I’m guessin’ it’ll be a while before Mad Dawg sees eye-to-eye with you on that.”
“Can we fuckin’ roll now? Get the hell outta here?” Mad Dawg turned and strode towards the door, glad when he heard the tromping of boots coming behind him. “We have a location, now also positively confirmed by an outside source, and these motherfuckers have already done enough.” Pushing through the door, he scanned the alley, surprised at the number of men who’d ridden in while they were inside the shop.There’s gotta be a hundred Maniacs here. For me. For Ella.He pulled in a deep breath and greeted them all with a lift of his chin.My brothers.
“I’ve got a group headed to the bogus location they gave you, too,” Tinder said as he threw a leg over his bike parked next to Mad Dawg’s. “Figured we might as well sweep up everything in one motion.”
“Don’t fuckin’ care,” Mad Dawg muttered as he thumbed the ignition on his bike. “Do not fucking give a good goddamn about that.” His pipes roared as he rolled the throttle. He shouted over the rattle of noise, “All I fuckin’ care about is Ella. Safe and sound, please, God.”
He knew the exact location Martini had pinpointed, and the target for his rage was only a couple of miles away. Fighting every instinct that told him to rocket along the roads, he kept to a sedate pace, working up and down through the gears as he traveled through green lights, Tinder on his left shoulder, Rocker right behind. The rest of the men were strung out in two columns behind them. Mad Dawg knew that the last thing they needed was to get pegged by the cops racing to the rescue. It would delay them way more than riding normally. This way it’d just look like a group of them out for a midday ride, and nothing more.
It would chap Tinder’s ass to not have a plan already laid out for their arrival, but Mad Dawg didn’t need one. His goal was simple. To the point.
Get in. Get Ella. Kill the fuckers.
Uncaring of the sound of the bikes, he pulled into the drive Martini had mentioned. He motioned for Rocker to take the next, so he would come up the other end of the big, sweeping U-shaped street.
Them knowing we’re here won’t change a fuckin’ thing.
