The bike couldn’t go fast enough for me. A jet plane wouldn’t have gone fast enough. I revved the engine, weaving in and out of traffic, slipping between cars, running red lights. I didn’t even care that the others fell behind—they weren’t as determined as me. It wasn’t their daughter. Their woman. Jamie was my woman.
And all I could think of was never seeing her or Gigi again.
I got to the clubhouse in record time and ran through the door. The first thing I saw was Erica, sitting on the couch with an ice pack on the back of her head. Traci washed the blood off the side of her face.
“Holy shit.” I sat down with her. “What happened?”
She was hysterical. “I tried. I swear. I tried so hard. I screamed and fought him.”
I took her hand. “I know you did.”
“I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have let him do it.” She was babbling. Her eyes looked unfocused. She might have been in shock.
“It’s not your fault.” I held her hand, rubbing my thumb over the back of her knuckles. Traci washed her face. “You should go to the hospital. Get your head checked out.”
“I’ll never forgive myself. Never.” She stared straight ahead. Her hand shook.
“Take her,” I said to Traci. She needed to get help, and I didn’t have the time to make her feel better. I wanted the girls out of the clubhouse anyway. I didn’t need them around when we did what we had to do.
Only I didn’t know where to start. What could I do? By that time, Flash and the others came in. “Get everybody in here now.” I tried to call Jamie again. Still no answer. I knew he had her. My gut told me so.
I explained what happened, and everybody looked as shaken up as I was. I looked out over their faces, two dozen guys. My crew. I knew they would do anything for me if I asked.
“We have to find them, but I don’t know where to go. I don’t know where The Scarecrow hides out. I need you to hit the streets, ask everywhere. Anywhere. Go to the clubs, drug dens, whatever. I don’t care. Just find out where he holds people when he’s gonna sell them.”
“You think he’ll sell them both?”
I thought about Jamie. She was beautiful, blonde, young. She had a great body. “Yeah. He’ll sell her, too, if he can.”
“Shit.” Everybody looked at each other.
“Keep your phones close by in case I call. If you hear anything, call me right away.” I watched them leave. Flash stayed with me.
“We only have a couple of hours, tops,” I muttered. I was sure I would throw up. “After that, who knows. They might ship them outta the country. I don’t know who he sells to. Jesus Christ, I don’t know anything about how this works. I never wanted to be anywhere near it.”
“Who would?” Lance asked. “I don’t either. Just rumors. I heard the same ones you did, that he sells kids and young women. That’s it. I don’t know about any buyers around here, whatever they’re called.”
“I can’t believe I was so stupid.”
“How could you know? What were you supposed to do?”
“I should’ve protected her better. I should have.”
Flash took me by the shoulders. “That’s what you were trying to do. Remember? That’s why we went to the station. To find Rae. To find out what The Scarecrow wanted. Only…now we know.”
“Yeah. Now we know.” My chest was so tight, I wondered if I was having a heart attack. I punched a wall, needing to release some of the anger inside me. It didn’t do any good.
“What about the cops? They might know somethin’ about where he hides.”
I frowned. I was almost desperate enough to try that, but it didn’t take much thinking to know it wouldn’t work. “If I call them, they’ll find out about Gigi. They might take her away. Besides, we’re dealing with a pro. Do you really think The Scarecrow would let the cops know where he does his shit?”
Flash thought about it. “Yeah, you’re right. He’s too smart for that.”
“He wouldn’t be as big as he is if he wasn’t.” I walked back and forth in the lounge. He had my daughter. He had my woman. Gigi. Jamie. Every beat of my heart had their names on it. I couldn’t stand not knowing where to go.
I grabbed my keys from the bar. “Come on. I have to do something.”
Flash followed me. “What if he calls here?”
I thought about it. “He could get my cell number from Jamie. If he wants to find me, he’ll figure something out.” We climbed on our bikes. Headlights filled the parking lot, and I turned around. There was a cab pulling up. I reached behind me, feeling for my gun just in case. Who knew what sort of games The Scarecrow played?