Page 100 of Biker Daddies

“I am, but I need something first.”

“Am I on speaker?”

“Yes,” Bane replies, rolling his eyes with impatience.

“Grizzly,” Tomas greets. “How are you?”

“Not good, Tomas. We need your help.”

“The President of an MC coming to me for help? My. My. How the tables have turned,” he states, a little too lightly for my liking.

Bane beats me to it. “Tomas, this isn’t the time to fuck around. Harlow has been taken by Grizzly’s brother. She belongs to me, Colt, and Alto. She’s pregnant. I’ll owe you one if you can tell us anything.”

Tomas Vinci is one of the most notorious men in the city. It isn’t often we work together. We believe we stick to our business, he sticks to his, and no blood will be spilled, but we are on good terms. If we need help, we can always count on each other. There’s always a catch, but I don’t care about that. I’ll do anything to get her back.

Tomas growls. It’s low and threatening in the back of his throat. “They dared put their hands on a young woman?”

“It isn’t just her. We think there are others. We think he’s involved in the trafficking ring, drugging them, etc. He was targeting domestic violence victims, but he was growing his business I think, and waiting for the big fish,” Colt says, having to raise his voice since he’s behind me. “Harlow is the big fish.”

“Si. I was able to put that together, thank you,” Tomas says. “I don’t like that. No one should be doing that in my city.”

“Our city,” I correct him. “You aren’t the only one who gives a damn.”

“I’ll call you back in five minutes and see what I can find out.” Tomas hangs up the phone and Bane slides it back in his pocket. “Now we wait.”

Waiting is the worst part. So much can happen in five minutes. People die. People get drunk. People make mistakes and have to live with them forever.

My thoughts go to Harlow. What happens to her every five minutes? God, I can’t even think about it or I’ll go insane.

“How long has it been?” Colt asks.

“Thirty seconds.” Bane cracks his neck and walks to the bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. He unscrews the top and takes a large gulp.

“Hand it over.” I stretch out my arm and he gives it to me.

We all take turns drinking out of the bottle and Prez guzzles before I rip it away from him.

“We need you coherent. She needs you at the ready. Don’t drown your regrets and what-ifs. Not yet,” I state, hating how angry and bitter I sound.

None of this would have happened if he would have listened to me, but it’s pointless to place blame. We are at fault too. We should have been with her when she walked to her car. We got too comfortable, too excited, lost in declarations of love and happiness about being fathers.

If only one of us went with her, then maybe she’d still be here.

“How long has it been?” Colt asks again, his leg shaking as he takes a seat.

“Three minutes,” Poet answers, his voice shocking me from the dark corner.

Bane’s phone rings and he doesn’t even let it ring twice before he’s answering it. “Tomas,” he greets.

“You’re right. I called a few informants of mine and it seems his brother has been causing quite the little havoc around here. If I would have known, I would have shut it down, I apologize.”

“It’s fine,” Grizzly brushes his apology away. “Did you find out anything?”

“They are having a large auction tonight in a house that was foreclosed on a few years ago. Your brother bought it and that’s where he is running his business out of.”

Grizzly’s face turns a dull shade of white, sickly and pale. “Is it yellow? With a wraparound porch?”

“It seemed to be yellow in the past. It’s run-down. It does have that wraparound porch.”

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