“What the fuck am I missing here?” Thomas asked, looking between us.
“James has a thing for your sister,” Flash told Thomas.
There went any hope of explaining it when the time was right. Let’s add more gasoline to the flames.
“What?” Thomas screeched, turning toward me, red-faced, with the veins of his neck popping out.
“Thing isn’t really the right word,” I said, looking him straight in the eyes.
“You’re going to start talking as soon as we get her back safe.”
I nodded, knowing that I should’ve already been straight with him about my feelings for Izzy. Thomas deserved to know how I felt about her and that I wasn’t using her for sex. Flash had made it seem tawdry and sordid, but it was nothing like that.
My phone rang, breaking the uncomfortable silence as Thomas and I stared at each other. I lifted the phone to my ear without losing eye contact.
“Yo,” I barked, chewing the inside of my lip.
“I got some news,” Bobby said, the sound of papers moving in the background.
“Hit me.”
“Rebel was spotted with a female at a motel in Bushnell. I just got the tip,” he said, then he covered the phone and spoke to someone. “Sorry. The wife.”
“Text me the information. We’re heading that way,” I said before disconnecting the call. “Motel in Bushnell,” I said, grabbing my keys from the table and running toward the door. “Move your shit, Flash. We’re taking my car.”
As we climbed in the car, Thomas shotgun and Flash in the back, I threw my phone to Thomas. “Handle it,” I said, starting the GTO and taking off toward Izzy. Thomas rattled off the address to the motel while tapping the screen on my phone.
“Should we call backup?” Flash asked, leaning forward and sticking his head between us.
“No,” I snapped, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Sit the fuck back. I don’t need your face all up in my shit.”
“Asshole,” Flash mumbled. “How do you want to handle this, Blue?”
“We’re going to find out who else knows and then we’re going to kill the motherfucker,” Thomas said, not looking up from the phone screen.
“Shouldn’t we arrest him?” Flash asked, his eyes wide as I watched him in the rearview mirror.
“Fuck him. He deserves to die after taking Izzy,” I said.
“What the fuck is this shit on your phone?” Thomas asked, holding out my phone and staring at me.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked, glancing at him out of the corner of my eyes but not daring to take my focus off the road.
“This shit with my sister, motherfucker.”
“We’re friends,” I said calmly, wishing we weren’t having this conversation.
“There’s some shit in here that can’t be unseen,” Thomas bit out, growling as he continued to scroll.
“Stop fucking reading it, then.”
“A fucking cock shot? Really? What the fuck? That’s my little sister and you’re sending her pictures of your junk?”
“Give me my goddamn phone,” I growled, reaching over as I tried to rip it from his grasp.
“After we kill Rebel, I’m kicking your ass.”
I nodded. “I deserve it.”
If she were my sister, I’d do the same. I’d want to beat the living fuck out of anyone who touched her or harmed her virtue. This was Izzy, and I wasn’t her first, but I planned to be the last damn man she ever bedded.
“Shut the fuck up and drive!” he shouted, tossing the phone back into my lap.
We drove in silence as we made our way to Bushnell. The highway was empty during the dead of night, a streetlight near an exit the only change in scenery.
As we pulled off the highway, Thomas spoke first. “This is how this shit is going to happen. I’ll get the information from the desk clerk while you and Flash make sure no one leaves the motel.”
The closer we got, the faster my heartbeat pounded in my chest. All the horrible things I’d imagined when I thought she hadn’t made it home safe amplified. Knowing that she was in the hands of Rebel, an MC vice president, made my fucking stomach churn.
“Okay,” Flash said, pulling himself forward.
“Then when I get the room number, you’ll wait outside”—he turned to face Flash—“and James and I will go inside and deal with whatever clusterfuck we find.”
“But I want to go inside too,” Flash whined.
“Man the fuck up. We need someone to keep an eye out in case others show up.”
“Fine,” he snapped, slapping the front seat before he slumped in the back seat.