Page 123 of The Deals We Make
“What are they gonna do, hit the metal plate in my head and give me amnesia again?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Funny fucker.”
But the slight break in tension doesn’t last as we ride in formation to where Calista is being held.
The sudden silence within my bike helmet is deafening.
A life without Calista in it flashes before my eyes. I’m a great uncle to everyone else’s kids, but otherwise, my heart would go with her.
I know this for sure.
It’s the reason I’m still single.
None of the other women were her.
And no one else could replace her.
She’s my woman.
“Hold on, babe,” I mutter.
The farm buildings come into sight in the distance. A part of me wants to ride my bike straight through the doors and not give a shit what happens next, beyond finding Calista.
But my brothers have never made a misstep in planning an operation on the fly like this.
Has there been bloodshed and broken bones? Definitely.
No one has died.
Which, fuck, I start to think about the odds. Wouldn’t the odds say it’s about time someone was killed?
No. I can’t think like that.
When we pull up to the agreed spot, those in Team B ride by us. Clutch salutes.
Shit.
A wave of panic like I’ve never known flashes through me, leaving me light-headed. I place my hands on the seat between my legs and lean forward. I need a second to regain my center of gravity.
“You okay?” Switch asks.
“Honestly? Fucking no.”
“Then we go through the motions,” Switch says as I climb off my bike.
I know what he means.
Remove my helmet. Check my weapons. Check my blades. Secure my bike.
I do as he says, looking no farther ahead than the next task. The routine of it helps me calm my escalating pulse. Mom once told me that fear stood for Face Everything And Rise.
I hear the words in my head in her calming voice.
And who knew a biker could need their mom in a moment like this?
“Ready?” King asks.
“Just want to get my woman back, Prez.”
