Uncover Me (24 page)

As I walked up to it, I could see my name scribbled across the top. “Damn it,” I said, picking up the piece of paper and reading each word carefully. I had to read it twice because there wasn’t a word on the goddamn piece of paper that I believed. My heart pounded erratically in my chest as I tried to pull in breaths.

What the fuck was I missing?

Once I’d jogged into the foyer, I checked the coat rack—her purse was missing. Then I turned toward the steps and took them three at a time. When I made it to the bedroom, I ran to the closet and found half of her clothes missing.

I walked out, sat on the bed, and grabbed my phone. Hitting it against my forehead, I tried to think of my next step. First, I’d send her a message and beg her to come back. She never could say no to me. That’s why she’d had to leave while I couldn’t stop her.

Me: Angel, come back. We can fix whatever is going on. I love you too much to say goodbye. Give me another chance. Give us another chance.

As I stared at the screen, I held my breath, waiting for a reply. A few moments later, the message showed “read” before she started to type a response.

Thank you, Jesus.
She wasn’t ignoring me.

Angel: Ur Angel is busy. If you want to see her again and keep your identity to yourself, I want 1 million dollars.

I blinked, shaking my head as I looked down at the screen. Then I blinked again. I’d thought I’d read it wrong, but I hadn’t. My heart, which already felt like it would burst, started to beat out of rhythm as my chest began to feel tight. Sucking in a sharp breath, I swallowed hard, trying to let the message sink in.

Me: When and where?

As I waited for a response, I paced back and forth in the kitchen like a lion in a cage. If they so much as hurt a hair on her head, I’d fucking torture them. Either way, they were dying, but it was up to them if it was quick or prolonged agony as they met their maker.

Angel: 48 hours. We’ll be in touch.

Without wasting a moment, I opened up my text messages send out a mass text to my brothers, including James.

Me: Emergency! Be at my house ASAP. Joe – grab Pop.

This was a declaration of war. I couldn’t go to the DEA or the cops for help. They would say, “I told you so,” and just complicate the shit out of everything. I needed to keep it on the down low, and I knew my brothers would always have my back.

I ran upstairs, needing to get dressed and be ready when everyone arrived. There was a ton of work to do. Gather intel on her location and possible suspects, get as much ammo and as many weapons as possible on short notice, and come up with a plan.

In the spare bedroom, I went straight for the closet. I had boxes of weapons in there, all secured with locks. I stockpiled anything I could get my hands on. Florida didn’t have stringent laws when it came to guns, so anything was possible and available at a price.

After laying each item out on the bed, I checked to make sure they were in working order and empty of any rounds. I knew James had a cache of weapons at his disposal, and I was pretty sure my brothers did as well, even if they were dusty and hadn’t been used in a while.

I studied the inventory, staring at the mass of guns on the bed: Five AR-15s, three Smith & Wesson .44s, two 9mms, a sawed-off shotgun, and a brand-new Sig Sauer P320 pistol. I pulled out the five bulletproof vests I had amassed while in training and kept on hand for future use, and added them to the collection.

The front door opened and closed before heavy footsteps moved through the house. When I placed my hand on the pistol, I heard Mike yell, “Yo!”

Fuck, I needed to calm down. They weren’t going to come back for me. They had what they wanted—whom they wanted.

“Up here!” I yelled back, shaking out my hands and rolling my neck. I needed to loosen up and get control of the situation.

Mike pushed the door opened and whistled. “Fuck, that’s pretty. What the hell are you doing with all this shit?”

“Some people collect figurines. I collect guns. And for the first time, the shit is going to come in handy.”

He walked up to the edge of the bed, grabbed a .44 from the collection, and checked the chamber. “What the fuck is going on? Your text had me in a panic, man.”

“Angel is gone. I don’t know what the fuck happened, but I got a text demanding money for her life.”

“Fuck me,” he muttered, pointing the unloaded gun out the window and pulling the trigger.

“Where the fuck is everyone?” I complained, glancing at my watch.

Just then sound of screeching tires echoed through the room. We left the guns behind, running down the stairs to meet them at the door. James, Joe, Pop, and Anthony were walking toward the door.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Anthony barked, pushing past me as he entered the house.

I rolled my eyes, not really ready to deal with his shit, but we needed the manpower.

“What the hell is going on, son?” Pop asked as he gave me a quick hug.

“Let’s talk in the kitchen.” I waited as they filed in one by one before I entered behind them. Then I grabbed the note off the counter and slid it in the middle of the table.

James grabbed the note, scanning over it.

“What’s that?” Joe asked, sliding into a chair.

“What is this shit?” James growled, holding up the piece of paper and shaking it. “I call bullshit.”

“It is. I woke to find this note,” I said, snatching the paper. “Angel said she was leaving. When I texted her, I got a reply, but not one I was expecting.”

“Yeah, there’s no way she’d leave and go back to her shitty life.” James bit his lip, knowing he’d already said too much.

I jumped in quickly, bringing everyone back to the topic at hand. “The text said they wanted one million dollars or they’d kill her and come after me.”

“What the fuck!” Joe roared, slamming his hand on the table. The table jumped, falling back to the floor with a thud.

“Do you know who?” Anthony asked, sitting forward and dropping the attitude.

“No fucking clue. We need to find someone to track her phone. See if they can get a location. We need to run down a list of suspects and figure out how we’re going to get her back.”

“How long?” James asked, thinking like a cop and not in shock about the situation.

“Forty-eight hours.” I rubbed my forehead, feeling a headache building in my skull.

“Not enough time,” Joe mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

“No, buddy. We got this shit,” James said, tipping his chin to me. “We need someone who can access her phone records ASAP.”

“Flash?” I offered, grimacing as I spoke. He was a sore spot for both James and me.

James winced, his eyes coming to mine with a cold stare. “Little fucker,” James muttered, swiping his hand across his face to muffle his words.

“I always hated that little prick,” Joe agreed, knowing full well what James had said.

“I don’t trust him,” Mike stated firmly with his lips set in a thin line.

Pop stood and leaned over the table, placing his knuckles flat against the surface. “Boys, it doesn’t matter if you like someone. If they’re useful, then you have no choice but to bury the hatchet.”

Everyone quietly thought about my father’s words, knowing he’d spoken the truth. For my sake—and Angel’s—we had to go against our personal feelings and use any means necessary, even if that meant Flash.

“Pop’s right. He’s our only hope to get information from her phone and possibly find her location.” I pushed back from the table, the sound of the legs scraping against the floor ringing in my ears. “James, can you call him and get him on point?” I stared at James, waiting for him to protest. I knew the Izzy-Flash situation of the past was still stuck in his craw.

“Only for you, Thomas. Only for you.”

“Doesn’t matter why. Just do it.”

With that, he got up from the table, dialing his phone as he walked into the living room. “Flash.” James’s voice grew quiet as he moved out of earshot.

“What do we do first?” Mike asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands together.

I could see his muscles flex and relax as he sat there. He was pumping himself up, ready and needing a fight. He’d been out of the ring too long and missed the greatest joy of his life—besides his girl. Fighting was in his blood.

“Here’s what we’re going to do…” I laid out the plan, going over each step and different scenarios. A lot would depend on where, who had her, and what their true motives were.

On the surface, it seemed as if they were out for some quick cash, but it might have been a ploy. Maybe they wanted to weed me out and use me as an offering to the MC. There were more possibilities—probably dozens I couldn’t even imagine.

Much of the operation lay in Flash’s hands. He was our starting point, and everything would radiate and develop from his intel. As we were talking through our plans and determining the weapons at our disposal, James came back in the room and tossed his phone on the table.

“He said give him twenty.” He collapsed in a chair, stretching out his legs and rolling his neck.

Not only was he tied to Flash because of Izzy, but Rebel’s death was something the three of us had dealt with together. We were all culpable and guilty of that crime. I wasn’t sorry that he’d died, but seeing Flash and having the three of us together would bring up old wounds of the night we’d killed a man in cold blood.

Shaking off my thoughts, I looked at James, waiting for him to return my stare. “Good. He’ll come through for us.”

James nodded, crossing his arms over his chest and taking a deep breath.

“James, what about calling Bobby?”

“What about him?” he asked, looking down at his arms. His lips were almost in a frown, as if he were pouting about Flash. Maybe it was the remorse he felt about Rebel.

Even when you knew it’d been the only option you’d had, knowing that you’d killed another human being left a feeling of guilt. Rebel had been a complete piece of shit, but as a DEA agent, you vow to serve and protect. If we hadn’t finished him, he would’ve come after Izzy and James, and I would have also been in his crosshairs. It was the only way it could have ended.

“We need him to do some digging. I need to know everything there is to know about Angel. All of her connections. And I want information on her crack-whore mother.”

“Think she’s involved?” James asked, bringing his eyes back to mine, a look of disbelief written on his face.

“She’s a bitch who would do anything for money. She may not be responsible for her abduction, but she played a role. I’d bet my life on it.”

Anger began to boil inside me. I had known she was a cunt when I’d met her. The way she’d tried to attach herself to any member with a dick who wasn’t taken by an old lady… She didn’t want to be a club whore. She wanted her place in the MC, but no one took her up on the chance. Roxy and I developing a relationship had to have pissed her off after she’d remained a sidepiece for years.

“Who wants coffee?” Pop asked, breaking the tension in the room.

We were on edge—James and I more than the others. But it was clear that testosterone and pissed-off male were floating in the air.

“I got it, Pop,” Joe said. “Sit and relax with the guys. We know you can’t make coffee worth shit anyway.”

“Some things are best left to your ma.” He laughed as he sat, throwing his hands in the air as an apology of sorts.

James’s phone began to play
“I Fucking Hate You”
by Godsmack as it danced across the table. After quickly grabbing it to stop the words from continuing, he snapped, “You better have some fuckin’ news.”

He glared at me while he listened to Flash, tapping his fingers on the table. He needed to get over his bullshit with him. I didn’t care if he’d slept with my sister or not, and neither should he. James had won; Izzy was his and his alone. Flash could never say the same.

“Got it,” James said as the table quietly waited to hear the news. “What else?” He rolled his eyes, slamming his fist on the table. “Goddamn fuckin’ social media. Stay by your phone, and I’ll call you back if we need more.”

“What did he say?” I asked before he could end the call.

Setting his phone down, he sighed. “Flash did some digging. First off, he found that she’d used her Facebook app on her phone. He found her page and she wrote a status update a couple of days ago. Thomas, her location was turned on. It has to be how they found her.”

“God damn it,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair and pulling at the roots. I hadn’t even thought about her phone being tracked. Why had I been so fucking stupid? I should’ve checked her phone. “What else?” I asked, angrier with myself than with anyone else, especially Angel.

“The location was down the road from here. She must have been in the car when she updated her status. It didn’t show the exact location of your house, but it was in the general vicinity. Anyway, he was able to trace her phone to a tower near Orlando. He’s working on getting a more exact location, but it’s going to take time.”

“Just get it done. We have nothing without a location. I’d rather catch them by surprise than have to show up at a drop-off location on their terms.”

“I’ll call him and make sure he pushes the shit through as quickly as possible.” James called Flash back. “Thomas said to get on their backs about the location. Do whatever you have to in order to get the information ASAP.”

Then he stood, walked to the sink, and stared out the window. “We don’t give a fuck about that. Make it happen any way you can,” he barked before hanging up the phone and turning around to rest his ass against the counter. “It’s done. We’ll know something in the next twenty-four hours.”

“Good. James and I need to call Bobby, our old boss at the DEA, and get more information.” I looked around the table, taking in the angry expressions of my family. “I want each of you to think long and hard before you decide to go with us to rescue her. It’s dangerous and risky. The ladies won’t be happy about it. Even though I have bulletproof vests, any of us could die.”

“I’m in, brother,” Mike responded quickly, nodding his head as he stroked his chin.