Page 51 of Bounty
Ophelia blanched. “Youwhat?”
“Shut the fuck up, Fee. That motherfucker left you for dead.” Cash raised his hands. “It’s done. His pieces were dropped into acid, thrown in the water, and turned to compost over a decade ago.”
“Goddamn,” I breathed.
“Ignore Cash the Grouch, Fee,” Stretch soothed. “It’s all good, babe.”
“Get back to work, Stretch.” Cash glared from Ophelia to the phone’s screen. “This walk down memory lane serves no purpose. It especially isn’t getting Effie back. Find her. You have three fucking hours. I want this over, Effie safe, and us on the road in the next twelve.”
“Josh is on standby with the plane if we need medical facilities for anyone,” Stretch said, unperturbed by Cash’s orders.
A plane? The club had a fucking airplane? That left me fucking reeling. Striker didn’t even havetrackingequipment.
“Outlaw also wants to know if he should send Diesel?” Stretch went on, the question clear in his voice.
“For legal matters or executions?” Cash asked.
“Both, I assume,” Stretch responded. “Diesel will see the latter as a bonus. Outlaw mentioned defense counsel, however.”
“Tell him to keep Diesel on standby, too,” Cash instructed, took the phone off speaker, and put it to his ear.
The more I heard, the more my adrenaline pumped. Ideas on how to get Dad’s chapter of Red Rum to where the Dwellers were, ran through my head. Once we saved Effie.
“Get it done, Stretch,” Cash barked and disconnected. “Call your brother in twenty minutes, Fee. Slice, come with me. Striker, get as many members here as possible—”
“We’re all here, Cash,” Striker inserted with resentment.
Cash glanced from man to man and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Get all the chicks affiliated with your club here now.”
“We need to go on lockdown?” Dad asked.
Striker stiffened and shook his head. “Riker hasn’t approved that.”
“Well, your brother isn’t here,” Drifter said. “We are. I’ll call Riker and fill him in. But Dad’s right. We’re in danger. We don’t know where the rest of Dutch’s club members are.”
“He’s only sent out for special assignments,” Striker insisted. “He has four other motherfuckers in his crew.”
“Here’s the fucking deal,” Cash said. “Order a fucking temporary lockdown. I’m not risking Ophelia. I understand Effie is in danger, but I’ll walk out that fucking door and take my woman with me unless you guarantee her safety.”
Dad didn’t have jurisdiction over another man’s club, but he whispered to Striker.
The motherfucker finally nodded. “Fine.”
“Then let’s get this show on the road, kiddies,” Cash said.
Someone was on top of me.
Full awareness took a moment to seep into my foggy brain. I’d lost track of time and place. After my video concluded, Dutch punched me for disobeying him and then jabbed me with another needle. Now, I’d slept off whatever the hell they gave me. Awakening to more danger sent adrenaline pumpingthrough my veins.
I barely caught my breath because of the heaviness of the man over me. The stench of alcohol filled my nose and the swears reaching my ears let me know he was having some problems. Thankfully, my panties were still on, and between my legs didn’t feel abused.
He forced my legs apart; I screamed, not that it would do any good. Lashing out, I punched blindly. It was dark and I was on the cold concrete, but my punch landed and my knuckles stung.
Suddenly, I was free and I rolled to my side. Before I hopped to my feet, he seized me again.
“Lights! Lights!” he called. “Put the fucking lights on.”
“Don’t take too long, Buck,” Rusty responded, though I couldn’t see him. “I don’t want Dutch to hand me my fucking ass because ofyourhorny ass.”
