Page 188 of Fury

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Look—”

“What else?”

“There was a Smoking Gun there with Reich.”

My heart jumped a beat, the blood surging in my veins. The enemy with Reich?

“Who? From where?”

“I don’t know his name, but he was from Kansas. Tania got a knife in him, keeping him off of Butler. The Jacks got him down, but I let him take off because, well, I had to, right?”

That goddamn treaty.

“Shit was happening so fast,” Catch muttered. “I was focused on getting my sister out of there in one piece and getting Reich in the van.”

“I’m leaving Denver now. Keep him down. Drac’s coming to you.” I shut down the call.

Drac was in my face, eyes wide. “You all right? What the hell is going on?”

“We got to leave. You get to the Farm. Reich kidnapped Tania today. Catch and Butler got her free of him. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, why he did this, but I’ve got to see her with my own eyes. I’ve got to see her, make sure she’s all right.”

“Okay—”

“I need to see her with my own eyes, make sure she’s all right.” My voice was loud, raw. I was repeating myself.

Drac gripped my arms. “Hey. Hey. Do what you gotta do. We’ll keep him down ’till you get there. Let him stew until you get back.”

“Slow cooker.” Keeping him tied, isolated, in the dark.

“Right. Slow cooker.” Drac’s long teeth dragged along his bottom lip. “You good to ride?”

“I’m good, let’s go.” I thumped his chest with a hand. “Let’s go!”

We said our goodbyes. Priest, the chapter president, gave me a quick hug.

“Sorry about cutting out,” I said. “I appreciate the hospitality today. Need to get home.”

Priest slapped me on the back. “Anytime. Always good to see you. You need back up, man? You got it.”

“Nah, we’re good, thanks. I just need to get there.”

“Ride safe, Finger.”

Priest tagged fists with Drac as I moved toward my bike.

We headed northeast for I-76 to take us out of Colorado. It would be seven hours to Meager.

I couldn’t get there fast enough.

53

Icharged throughthe clubhouse ofthe One-Eyed Jacks just before seven in the morning. Alicia, Jump’s widow, gestured down the hall to the bedrooms, knowing what I was after.

I pushed the door open and stopped short.

Grace sat on the edge of the bed, patting a piece of white gauze over Tania’s chest. They both turned abruptly, their faces haggard.

“Tania,” staggered out of my mouth, a mix of relief and concern sloshed with anger.

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