Page 32 of Torching Vixen
“Yes, she snuck around the building to the car. I watched and waited for an opportunity to get Vixen alone. When that presented itself, Ox’s ole lady made Vixen get in the car, no matter what. Her only directive was that Vixen was not to be permanently harmed and kept alive. They had no idea about the baby. Since I was around the clubhouse all the time, I overheard Razor talking about the tracker that the girls had and that it was always traceable unless underground or in a Faraday cage. After they got Vixen off the property and down the road, they put her in a van that was a rolling one.” He drops his chin to his chest before continuing. “I don’t know anything after that. I was to meet them at the new club when I was relieved from the guard shack.”
“What the fuck is a Faraday cage?” I ask, never having heard of it before.
“I fucking knew it!” Razor explodes. Looking at me, he says, “Basically, it prevents electromagnetic waves from being released. So, putting her into one of those means that her tracker wouldn’t be seen.”
“So, they blocked the signal?”
“In a nutshell, yes,” Razor advises, looking beyond pissed off.
“Where is this new club?” Smith asks because it’s taking everything in me to keep from killing the stupid fucker.
“I was going to get the address after I left today. They didn’t want me to have it before because of this,” he says, looking around the room.
“Meaning they were never going to. They knew you weren’t going to make it out,” Wesson says, walking over to me and handing me a gun. We are done, and this man won’t be able to give us any more information.
Fuck. He knew what he was doing and what would happen if we caught him. So, I’ll lose no sleep over his, but it’s the fact that it’s another life lost. This is on Fire and the shit he is doing, and I will put that fucker in the ground if it’s the last thing I do.
The gun going off doesn’t even make us flinch. The heavy hand on my shoulder brings me back, “Let’s get this cleaned up and head into church so we can come up with a plan to get your woman and my grandbaby back,” Prez says.
I make eye contact, pulling strength from him so I don’t break from the hole in my heart.
“Let’s fucking do this!” I say with a nod.
I walk through the door for church and see everyone there but Razor. I’m too wound up to sit, so I pace the floor, ready to drag Razor in here by the short hairs when he comes hurrying through with a laptop and a tablet. I don’t know what this man is up to, but I know I owe him big if the look on his face says anything. Prez doesn’t even get church called to order before Razor starts talking and tapping away on his laptop.
“When that little fucker commented on the Faraday cage, it hit me. I don’t have to find her tracker, just the closest phone to her. That’s the beauty of the trackers I built. If there is no tower around, they piggyback off the closest cell phones and leave a digital fingerprint. That way, when they come back online, we can find them,” he says, not even looking up.
I can’t stop the explosion. “Why the fuck are you just thinking about this now? We could’ve found them fucking hours ago instead of standing around like fucking dumbasses. I could have my woman and child home safely,” I roar, pinning my best friend and brother to the floor by his throat with my forearm.
The cocking of a gun brings the blinding rage to a halt. I finally notice the color of Razor’s face and let him go. I step back and turn to my dad, who is slowly putting his gun away. I’m so fucking pissed that I can’t fucking think.
“Do that again, and you better be ready to actually pull the trigger next time,” I say, going nose to nose with the one man that I’ve always trusted and respected. I don’t care how disrespectful I might be acting. I just want to hurt something. No, someone, and right this second, I don’t rightly give a fuck who it is.
“I know you are not thinking clearly right now. You are hurting, scared, and most of all, fucking pissed. But I am still your President, and you’ll fucking respect me. Do I make myself fucking clear?” he asks, so calmly that I know he is one-hundred percent serious.
His son or not, I know blatant disrespect is never something he’s going to allow. I close my eyes, take a deep breath to center myself and put my rage back in the box until later. When I make eye contact with him, I give him a nod before turning back to Razor, who’s sitting in his chair, typing away on his laptop.
“Razor. I’m sorr—” He cuts me off, raising his hand in a hush motion.
“I don’t get it, but we’re good. I should’ve thought of it. Lo put in the code, and we’ve never had to use it,” he states, not looking up from the screen.
“Lo? She was working on this?”
“Lo is a genius on the keyboard,” he says, going back to town like he never said anything at all. “Fuck! What the fuck? There should be something, anything,” Razor mutters. He looks up at Prez and says, “I need her. This isn’t making sense.”
“Razor, we can’t bring her into church. Can you guys do it in the main room?” Prez asks.
We don’t allow outsiders inside this room, for any reason at all. Shit, Mom has never been in this room except to help Dad hang some of the pictures on the wall. This is the place we talk about things that could get us all locked up for the rest of our lives, and taking unnecessary risks is not something we often do.
“Yeah, that should work. Let’s go,” he says, gathering everything and moving to the main room.
As we get out there, Lo is already sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs, typing away on a laptop I’ve never seen before. It isn't shocking with everything going on, but damn a lot has happened since these two women showed up in our lives, and it’s not all for the bad.
“Lo, have you been able to find anything?” Razor asks from the seat next to her.
“Give me another sixty seconds,” she says, not even looking up. “You know, if you weren’t such a self-centered asshole and knew how to open up and let people in, I could’ve been working on this fucking hours ago. We have no idea what he’s doing to her, and when he finds out about the baby, he’s going to lose his shit. If something happens to them, I blame you,” Lo says, stopping long enough to glare at Razor.
I watch their staredown, and the hurt that crosses between them is so deep that you can feel it in the air. I don’t know what’s happened between them, but whatever it was, it hurt them both. Mom comes storming out of the kitchen, letting the door slam against the wall, causing Razor and Lo to break eye contact and get back to work.
