Page 52 of Screamer
“Got it. Have a good night.”
“You, too. And think of me when you’re having fun.”
I laugh at her expression. “Nothing planned with the kids tonight?”
“Yeah. We’re going out to dinner at Red Lobster for the middle one’s birthday.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Roxie, I’ve got four kids and a husband who might as well be my fifth. Nothing about going out to dinner is fun.”
“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.”
With that, she leaves for the evening. I know she loves her family and spending time with them. But I make a mental note to invite her out for a drink sometime. It certainly couldn’t hurt for her to spend time with friends and remember that she’s more than a wife and mother.
I lock the door twenty minutes later and cross the street to the parking garage where my Harley awaits me. As I’m walking, I send a quick text to Screamer, letting him know that I’m running a little late but am on my way. Then I shove it into my pocket.
I’m two miles down the road when my cell vibrates against my side with an incoming call. I forgot to put my earbud in, so I ignore it, sure that it’s Screamer. When the phone rings again, and then again for a third and fourth time, I pull over and lower the kickstand.
Glancing at the screen, I frown. Melody’s number flashes on the screen and calling back-to-back like she is worries me.
“Hey, girl. Please tell me y’all aren’t stuck in traffic again,” I say when I answer.
“Roxanne.”
My heart skips a beat at the sound of Jace’s voice. “Where the fuck is Melody?” I demand. If he’s got her phone, he’s got her. He’s also likely got the others. “Greg and Sammie? Let me talk to them.”
“I don’t think so,” he says.
“What do you want?” I ask, fear stealing my breath.
“It’s quite simple, Roxanne. I want…” He inhales deeply before sighing in a way that has me wondering if he’s masturbating. “You.”
“That’s not gonna happen.”
“Oh, but it will. You see, if I don’t get you, I’ll kill your friends. Then I’ll go straight to Marble Falls and kill your boyfriend. Or should I say boyfriends? Oh, wait. I already killed the one. I forgot.”
At the reminder of Saint, I wince. Addison, the police, and the clubs haven’t been able to tie the accident to Jace. Other than the note he left, there wasn’t enough evidence for the District Attorney to issue an arrest warrant.
“Fine,” I say through clenched teeth. “Where are you?”
He rattles off a location. “You’ve got thirty minutes before I start killing. Oh, and this should go without saying, but don’t call anyone. It won’t end well for you or them if you do.”
With that, he disconnects the call, and I sit for a moment, trying hard to suck air into my lungs. I know I can’t risk calling Screamer, not yet anyway. I’ve gotta get closer to Jace before I alert anyone. For all I know, Jace is monitoring my phone, and if that’s the case, I’m not going to tip him off too early that I’ve got people coming to my rescue.
I put the coordinates he rattled off into my GPS and see that it’s the middle of nowhere. Taking off down the road, I silently pray that my friends can hold on until I get there.
Twenty-seven minutes later, I come to a stop when I reach what appears to be an abandoned vehicle. The road is surrounded by woods on both sides, and the blinking dot on my map shows me that Jace has Greg, Melody, and Sammie deep among the trees.
I hop off my bike and rush to the car, peering in the windows. There’s no sign that indicates this is the rental my friends had, so I assume it’s Jace’s.
Where the fuck is their car? Where’d he get them?
I take my cell out of my pocket and pull up my texts to send one to Screamer.
Me: Help, Jace, 911
Dropping my phone to the ground so Jace can’t see that I sent the text if he isn’t monitoring it and searches me, I take off at a run.
