Saving Dallas 2 Making the Cut(51)

“Fine, but you have five minutes to squeeze whatever you can into a suitcase. What’s not packed when I get back, stays.” Game over.

Not only did I get everything on the bed packed, but I had managed to add a few more layers to it. By the time Luke made it back, which was actually more like ten minutes and not five, I had my complete luggage set packed and laying on the bed-all six of them.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I heard Luke murmur as he grabbed the two largest suitcases and hauled them out, not bothering to use the wheels on the bottom. I ran around the house unplugging things and making sure everything was locked while Luke carried the rest of my bags to the truck and not so gently threw them inside. Bitching about it wouldn’t have done me any good. Luke seemed worked up about something, and I didn’t want to give him any reason to snap at me, so I kept my mouth shut.

Once we were loaded, and the house was secure, we pulled out and headed to the hospital to see Marty. I regretted that I hadn’t thought to bring him something, but by the look of the speedometer and the way Luke was weaving in and out of traffic, we were in a bit of a hurry.

“Is something wrong?” I asked cautiously. Luke waited several beats before answering me. I think he was deciding whether or not to tell me the truth.

“We thought we had a lead on War, but it turned into another dead end. Frankie is not where we thought he was either. So now I have a shit load of manpower, a bunch of brothers who are thirsty for blood and no fucking bad guy to go and catch. To make matters worse, the word is out that there are other chapters in town and now I have to worry about people getting the wrong idea.” He didn’t sound like he wanted to talk about it, but while I had the chance; I wanted to push for more.

“What do you mean people are getting the wrong idea?”

“Clubs around here are wondering why the fuck I have outside charters coming to Hattiesburg. They’re afraid we are preparing for a war. We are, just not with them, but you can’t tell them that without someone leaking it to someone who doesn’t need to hear it. Not everyone is staying. Only a few of the guys from Lake Charles are going with us, but everyone is here for the meet. Clubs are getting anxious. When that happens, people do stupid shit.” I was trying to keep up with Luke. His choice of words was confusing, but he didn’t sound like he had a problem at all.

“If you tell the other clubs why they’re here, maybe that will help you find Frankie. I mean, someone has to know where he is. I remember you said that you had some clubs that you didn’t get along with, but y’all kept your distance and just agreed to disagree. Maybe you should reach out to them and just let them know who you are looking for. If they know, they may tell you to get the other guys out of town faster. That’s what I would do. The faster you find Frankie, the faster the other charters can go back to their hometowns and the other clubs can relax knowing that there aren’t fifty Devil’s Renegades roaming the streets.”

Luke looked at me for a long moment, his face void of any emotion. Maybe I had fucked up. Perhaps I should have kept my big fat mouth shut. Wasn’t that what a good ol’ lady did? Speak when you’re spoken to and all that shit?

Luke grabbed his phone off the console and punched in a number, all while keeping one hand on the wheel and his eyes on me. I was afraid to look at anything other than him. For one, I didn’t want to miss the expression that crossed his face, when and if he showed one, and second-if I looked, I would probably do something stupid if we started to veer off the road.

“Tiny, you and Kev put a call out to the surrounding clubs. Let them know why our brothers are in town. See if you can shake an answer from anyone about Frankie’s whereabouts. We got some shit on some of ‘em. Use it.”

Luke ended the call and turned up the radio. Rage Against the Machine was blaring “Bulls on Parade” and the lyrics made me shiver. I was right and Luke didn’t want to admit it. A smile spread over my lips. Maybe I should do this shit in my spare time. I was dreaming of big banners with Dallas Knox-Problem Solver written in red with a large motorcycle as the background, when Luke pulled into the parking garage of the hospital.

“Your idea was a good one. I should have thought of it myself. I’m slipping and I don’t like it.” Luke’s tone was clipped and accusatory. I got the impression that he was blaming me for his slipping.

“You’re not slipping, Luke. You just have a lot on your mind.” My tone was exasperated and slightly bitchy. I wouldn’t call him out on his behavior right now, but it more than pissed me off that he thought I was to blame, even though I probably was.