Page 45 of Patch's Bride
A couple of minutes later, the door opens to a familiar face. I know her stepfather pretty well because our families traveled in the same circles. He tries to close the door, but I put my palm against the wood, and I step into the doorway, forcing him back into the house.
“Don’t be an asshole, Jefferies.”
“You have no right to barge into this house.”
Seeing him face-to-face, knowing he just trafficked my old lady, is too much, so I give him a hard fist to the face. Of course he doesn’t fight back. Domestic abusers never do. They love treating women like shit, but when facing off with another man, they begin engaging in avoidance-type behavior.
He pinches his bloody nose and grumbles, “Why the hell did you do that?”
“Because you’re fucking around in my personal life and I don’t like it.”
“Get the hell out before I call the police.”
“APS asked for a welfare check on Lila. That means you’re obligated to cooperate,” Siege says as my club brothers come pouring over the threshold. He holds his phone so Beth’s stepfather can read the message.
“Where are they?”
“Where are who?” he says.
“Don’t give me that shit. You know damn well who.”
Pushing him back through the house, I keep going until we hit the living room. “There’s some medical equipment here, so he had Lila at one point.”
Siege cuts to the chase. “How about you tell us where Beth and Lila are before we tear this place apart and you with it?”
He stammers, “You can’t bust into this house and do as you like. We live in a country of laws.” He keeps glancing at Tank moving around the room, rummaging through drawers.
“Let’s just sit down and talk this out.”
This dumbass thinks he’s going to control the situation. I jerk my chin at Rigs, who’s standing at the door. He goes over to the window and snaps the blind shut. Several other brothers join Tank in looking for useful information.
I shove him down into a seat and loom over him menacingly. “You took Lila from her care home. Then you somehow lured Beth back home and now they are both missing. The way I see it, that makes you guilty of kidnapping.”
“You can’t prove any of that?”
I bend down and look him in the eye. “Yeah, we can. We have an eyewitness that says you left here with both of them several hours ago.”
“You’ve got nothing.”
I’m getting pretty worked up. “You better give me a name right now unless you want this to escalate.”
He swallows before saying, “Bothof them are safe, and that’s the only thing that matters.”
He flinches when I reach for him. “Don’t you fucking move.”
He panics, dives out of the chair with more agility that I think a man his age should have and takes off running. He doesn’t get two steps before I grab his wrist, anchor the elbow with my left hand and place my thumb in the ulnar groove. I can tell the moment I hit the sensitive nerve there because he screams like a baby. When I let up, he exhales throughhismouth, giving a dramatic groan.
My club brothers just stare at me, like I have two heads. It’s clearly never occurred to them that I would be willing to deal out pain to get my old lady back. It’s because I’m a doctor.
“Give me a name,” I growl.
He stares at my cut, his mouth opens and closes.We both know that a few more pinches and he’s going to tell me anything I want to know. “Vincent,” he says.
“I want a full name, obviously.”
“I just know him as Vincent,” he repeats, trying to sound convincing. The motion dies under my hand.
Dutch walks back from the kitchen carrying some kind of organizer with pockets. He flips through until he pulls a business card with a heavy stock and a black monogram of a walnut shell setting in a stylized V. Glancing at Siege, Dutch says, “There is a phone number without a title or address.” He sets it on the glass coffee table. Mr. Jefferies stares at the letters. He flinches when Tank comes back with a tablet from the nightstand and places it beside the card.
