I’m still puzzling on it, as I’m driving and listening to the old man swear vengeance on whoever did this. We drive down the road to a local garage ran by Colton Seiver. He isn’t a member, but he does a lot of work for the Saints. He’s a tall man, standing well over six foot. He’s got dark hair that falls a little too long and a beard. He’s covered in ink and he’s got the look of a man who has seen hell and survived it. Pops introduced me to him a couple days after I took over. He seems like a good man to know. Hell, I’m even hoping I can talk him into joining our ranks.
“Pops, Shaft. What’s up?” Colton greets us when we get out of the SUV. He has to figure it’s something. Two visits in one week from the club isn’t coincidence.
“Someone dumped a body out by our back gate. Figured if anyone saw a vehicle out this far it’d be you.”
“Well the road is pretty fucking deserted, one of the tricks of living back on a dead end holler. About the only company I ever get is people needing machine work,” he says with a shrug. “You call the cops? Hell, seems like every day someone is finding a body in the backwoods of Kentucky. This place surely ain’t what it used to be, been thinking I need to move to Florida.”
“Yeah, I’m sure there’s nothing like that there,” Pops growls.
“Well, I figure there may be more what with the gators and shit, but at least I’d have my ass in the sun instead of this fucking cold.” He grins.
“So, you haven’t seen anyone?” I ask him, bringing the conversation back around.
“There was one little red car, but I’ve seen it before, so didn’t think to tell you guys. Little red Ford Focus. You know Pops, I asked you about it once. Had the dent in the left quarter panel? You told me it was club protected.” I look at Pops for confirmation. His head goes down like someone sucker-punched him. His hand visibly shakes as he wipes the top of his head.
“Roxy,” he growls. “That’s Roxanne’s car.”
He cups the back of his neck. “It wasn’t a woman driving, Pops. It was a man. Hell, a kid really.”
“What did he look like?” I ask quickly, and the more Colton talks, the more that sinking feeling in my gut intensifies. Son of a bitch. I look at the lighter in my hand, and I remember the day I found Bree in town, and that bastard had his hands on her. There was a green lighter on the table. A motherfucking green lighter. “Let’s go,” I order, already running to the car.
“What the fuck is going on?” Pops asks, winded as he gets inside. He’s barely settled before I’m gunning the engine to take off. I see Colton jump in the backseat as we peel out. Good instincts.
“That fucking kid who has been hanging around, Bree. Jeff something. I caught him handling her rough once. He set my alarm bells off then. He thought she was at Roxanne’s for Christmas.” My hands grip the wheel tight, white knuckled.
“Fuck. Step on it boy,” Pops says, but he doesn’t need to. I’m already pushing the fucking thing as hard as it will go. I’ve got to get to Bree.
She’s got to be alright. She has to.
Chapter Sixty
Bree
Jax has been gone for an hour—maybe longer. He’s going to be mad, but if I don’t go into town then the pharmacy will be closed. My doctor called in my prescription for birth control. We haven’t talked about it, but Jax hasn’t been wearing a condom. I just started my period so it’s not a concern yet, but if I don’t get on birth control soon it will be too late. I wouldn’t mind it. I would love to have Jax’s child, but he’s just starting the club, and he has a lot of work to do. Until we have time to discuss it, one of us has to take precautions and it appears that’s me. It takes me just a few minutes to do a quick change, grab my keys and head out. Unfortunately, Keys heads me off. Shit! Are they back?
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I need to run into town to the pharmacy to pick up some medicine. Are Jax and Pops back too?” I ask, looking around at the other men who are just pulling in, and then driving around the compound to the garage there.
“Nah, they went to check in with the garage down the road. Wanted to see if the owner knew anything,” he shares with me. Keys is Jax’s right hand man so to speak. I still haven’t completely gotten over all the shit he said that one day back at the apartment, but at the same time, I know he was looking out for his brother.
“Oh. Okay then. I won’t be gone long. Thirty to forty minutes, tops.”
“Whoa, I don’t think so,” he says, putting his hand around my waist to keep me from moving. I don’t like any man other than my own touching me.