I didn't know the answer, just like I didn't know if he would really come. I could only hope and pray.
"He has his ways. He knows things. Remember when Traci told you how wise he is?"
"Yes. Like Solomon."
"Right. He's very wise, and very brave. And you know something else? I know he loves you. He'll come for you. I'm sure he will."
I held her close, hoping I hadn't just lied to her. All I could do was count the minutes and pray he somehow found us.
Rae. She came to mind again. Would she have told him? If he caught her? A little spark of hope flickered to life in my heart. It was our only chance. Maybe Rae had an attack of conscience. I closed my eyes and willed him to hurry, just as I willed The Scarecrow's buyer to take his time. We needed all the time we could get, and all the help we could get. I pictured Fury's Storm overtaking the motel, sweeping in on their bikes to carry us off to safety. I pictured it as clearly as possible-their faces, their voices. Lance pulling Gigi and me to safety. The way it would feel when he held me in his arms again-his strong, powerful arms. Arms that could crush a pitiful little toad like that Scarecrow person with no effort.
And then he would kiss me. I would close my eyes, tilt my head back until it rested in the crook of Lance's elbow, and let me kiss me until nothing else mattered but us, and his lips, and the warmth of his breath and his body, so close to mine. He would be my hero.
I had to picture it. I had to get it down to every last detail. There was nothing else I could do to keep from sliding into a black hole of despair as minute after minute ticked by.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lance
I was never a patient person.
On my reports cards, my teachers used to make comments about how impatient I was. I could never wait my turn for things. I never wanted to stand in line. I was always the first one out the door when the bell rang-sometimes I would stand with one foot outside the classroom door, in the hallway, ready to take off the second I heard it ring. They always thought this was a bad sign, that I would grow up to be an impatient man. They used to give me those stupid writing assignments, too. I will learn to have more patience. Five hundred times in my notebook. I could have filled a whole notebook with the assignments I had before I dropped out of school.
Patience wasn't something I developed when I got older either. I didn't like waiting for things. I couldn't even be in the kitchen when there was water on the stove. I had to distract myself with something else until the water boiled. Otherwise I would go crazy and wonder why I was trying to boil water when I could just call the pizza place to get pasta delivered.
One of the first things I wondered after Gigi showed up at the clubhouse was how I would learn to be patient with her. Kids needed patience. It seemed like she was already a good reader. She obviously knew how to tie her shoes at the age of seven. She was potty trained, and I was glad I missed out on that. She had all her bases covered. Still, there were things to be patient about. Listening to a story that could have taken twenty seconds but turned into five minutes. Hearing the same jokes over and over. Listening to her read slowly, slowly. I knew some kids liked to watch the same things over and over, too. I remembered the stack of movies I saw in her room-it wasn't a big stack. She would be in the habit of watching them over and over.
I would have to deal with all that. I would have to learn how to be patient. It scared me at first. After thirty years, how would I all of a sudden learn how to be patient? Then I figured out that it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I didn't mind being patient, because I wanted to be good to her. It came naturally, I guessed.
When it came to waiting for Fury's Storm to show up at the motel so we could ambush The Scarecrow, I went back to square one. Just as impatient as ever.
It was torture waiting for the entire club to show. I understood why Flash wanted me to wait, but I didn't want to listen. I wanted to go in there, gun in hand, to blow that son of a bitch's head off his shoulders.
Luckily, I didn't have to wait too long. We waited close to the interstate. It was dark by then, so even if The Scarecrow stuck his head out the door, he wouldn't notice the line of motorcycles in the darkness. The lights in the parking lot were broken, after all. Something was finally going my way.
Once he was sure we were all together, Flash came over to me. "What've you seen so far?"
"Nothing. It's quiet. The light's on in the room, but that's it. He hasn't come out, and nobody's in there."
Jax agreed to go to the door to check it out. I hung back-I wanted to go in his place, but Flash didn't think that was the best idea. "If you hear anything you don't wanna hear … "
"Don't even say that to me. Don't even think it, actually. It's not happening. It's not gonna happen." I clenched my fists, waiting. Practically holding my breath. If only it wasn't so fucking dark-it was good for hiding, but I couldn't see what was happening at the door to the room. It felt like forever before Jax ran back to us.
"Nothing. I hear a TV in there, and voices."
"What voices?"
"Jamie's, definitely."
I closed my eyes. "Gigi?"
"No, nothing from her. It sounds like Jamie's giving The Scarecrow shit."
I had to smile. "Of course she is. That's what she does. And she's staying strong for Gigi-that's what she does, too." I knew I could trust her. If she drove The Scarecrow half as crazy as she drove me, he might just kick them both out of the room and tell them to never come back.
The smile left my face. "Okay, so they're in there. What are they waiting for?"
"Don't you wanna go in now and find out?"
I thought about it. "They're waiting for somebody, or a few somebodies. It might be better to wait for them, too. I don't wanna be ambushed at the last minute, just when we think we got them and we can go. Know what I mean? I would rather know what we're up against."
"But … there's only one of him in there. And dozens of us."
"I don't know that there's only one guy in there, though," Jax pointed out. "I heard a man's voice, but then I heard the TV, too. So there could be more than one, and it just got mixed up with whatever they were watching."
"Shit." I looked at Flash, and he knew I was right. It was better to wait.
"Do you think he'll hurt Jamie? Or Gigi?"
I thought about it for a minute, then shook my head. "Not if he wants to get any money for them. That's what it's all about for him, right? The price. If they're marked up or worse, he'll get less. He wants them in good condition."
"All the same, I hope his temper can hold out long enough. You know how tough Jamie can be when she gets on a roll."
"I sure do." That worried me. I remembered the way I felt when she pissed me off, when she wouldn't let something go. Especially when it had to do with Gigi. And nothing had ever been more important than what was going on at that moment. What if she pushed him too far? The two sides of my brain fought back and forth over what to do. I couldn't come up with an answer that satisfied me. It was either go in and take a chance or hang back and take a chance. Either way, we were taking a chance.
"I'd feel a lot better if we were closer," I decided. Let's split up into two groups. One group on that side." I pointed to the far end of the string of rooms. "One group on the other." I pointed to the other side. "I want Flash at the head of one group, Slate at the head of the other. I'll call you both so we can communicate on our earpieces."
"Where will you be?"
"Behind Jamie's car."
"What? Alone?" Flash didn't look impressed.
"Whaddya think? I wanna be able to be close to the room in case something happens. I'll wait there, listening. If I hear anything I don't like, I'll go in. If it all seems okay, I'll hang back. When whoever they're waiting for shows up, we'll wait 'til they're inside."
Flash and Slate looked at each other. I could see them talking without opening their mouths. They both shrugged.
"It's as good an idea as any," Flash said.
"Thanks for the confidence." I rolled my eyes as I called them. They put in their earpieces as I put in mine. When we knew we had a connection, we took off. Slate took a dozen guys in one direction, Flash took the rest in the other. I hid behind the car like I said I would.
I could just see inside the room, too, through a gap in the curtains. There wasn't anything to see, really. I saw Jamie's legs, stretched out across the bed. I saw light from a lamp and the TV. The inside of the room looked like shit. I hated thinking about the two of them in there.
"What do you see?" Flash asked.
"Nothing much. They're sitting on the bed. That's all I can tell you. And it looks like hell in there."
"Yeah, this place is a shithole. Literally. You should see what I almost just stepped in at the side of the building."
"Oh, fucking gross," Slate muttered.
"Guys. Seriously." I crouched behind the car, listening to the stupid conversation. "This isn't the time. Compare notes later on."
"Sorry." They shut up, and we waited.
I looked for any movement, any sign of anything going on. Blood pounded in my ears, my hands twitched. I wanted to get in there. I wanted to get them out. I wished I knew the right thing to do-if I didn't love them both so much, it wouldn't have mattered so much. I could've gone in and it wouldn't have made such a big difference. If one of them got hurt, oh well. It was the price they'd have to pay. But not anymore. I wanted to save them without them getting hurt. I just had no idea how to be sure that would happen.