| |
Rocco
When I see it’s a missed call from Simone, I almost don’t listen to the voicemail. Twice now, she’s pushed me away. Twice now, she’s left me standing there like some prick after I thought we were good. Twice now, I’ve felt like a piece of dirt when only a few hours before we were closer than I’ve ever been to anybody. I think about the sex, panting and wild on the rooftop, how I wished it could last forever.
I sit at my desk and put my phone on loud speaker, dialing voicemail. Maybe I am some prick because I can’t leave the message there unanswered. “Rocco, I’m being followed. I’m at the Rainbow Forest. Rainbow Wilderness. Whatever it’s called! The address of the street, wait a sec . . .” She breathes heavily. I imagine her twisting her head to read the street name, probably hidden behind some leaves. She reads the name out. “Please, I’m scared . . . please!”
I’m on my feet and out the door in a second, charging across the parking lot and jumping onto my bike. I start the engine and speed toward the forest, silently cursing her for not just going home. I know what happened. It’s the same thing that happens to everybody who isn’t used to this sort of shit. She panicked. She panicked because she’s never had to deal with this sort of situation before, the kind of situation most club members deal with before their sixteenth birthday.
My palms hurt from gripping the handlebars so hard. I push 100, 120, weaving through the traffic and cutting red lights. I almost get hit three times but I don’t give a damn. Simone is somewhere being hounded by Crooked Demon. There’s no doubt in my mind that it’s a Crooked Demon. Who the fuck else would follow her like this?
I get to the street in ten minutes, finding it deserted except for an empty jeep and Simone’s car, which is on its side. I jump from my bike without even kicking the stand, running to the car as my bike collapses behind me. I climb the side of the car and look down, hoping to see Simone and yet not wanting to see her. Just like with Shotgun, I can’t think of Simone like this. Last night she was naked, kissing, writhing, moaning, and now . . .
She’s not in the car. I step back and examine the scene, pushing my emotions far down. I’m on a job, I tell myself. It’s a job like I’ve been on hundreds of times before. A few drops of blood, shattered glass, branches snapped on this side of the road—I read all the signs.
They’re in the forest. The bastard chased her into the forest. I check my holster, making sure my pistol’s secure, and then sprint past the snapped branches, praying that Simone isn’t dead.
I can’t lose her. I just can’t.