Hashtag

The kid is the key to this whole fucking thing, I know it. The security footage proves his involvement without a doubt. He’s the missing link in finding my daughter.

Judge walks into the room, just as I slide the ID from my pocket and lean it against the top of the keyboard.

“Heard about the video. What can I do to help?” His eyes go straight to the ID. “Who do we have here?”

“Snagged it off the kid from earlier, the one in the video.”

“Good work,” Judge declares, squeezing my shoulder.

“You stole the kid’s ID?” Shelby asks. “How did you do it without him seeing it?”

“The kid was too busy pissing his pants when Hayden’s phone rang, he didn’t even notice.”

“Do you think he knows where she is?” Her big brown eyes are filled with hope and anger.

“Mr. Kevin Tucker here knows who has our daughter. And we just watched Hayden be forced into that van. He was involved in her kidnapping.” I type in his full name and the address from the card into my favorite search engine before picking it up and showing it to Shelby. “This is our insurance policy.”

“He’s a kid, Wyatt.” I can see the uncertainty on her face. A mother never wants to see harm come to any child. But a mother would also rain down hell to find her own child if they’re in danger.

“A kid who watched our daughter get thrown into a van against her will and did absolutely nothing to stop it. He’s not innocent.”

“He’s still a kid,” she cries. “Maybe he can help us. Maybe he’s innocent.”

Innocent? “Let’s just see what he has to say when we roll up to his house.”

Shelby looks down at her hands, picking at her fingernails. “Do you think you’ll have to hurt him?”

“I honestly don’t know, Shel. This boy isn’t just some kid, as you keep saying. He lost the right to play the kid card when he lied to me about how he got her phone.” She nods, but doesn’t look up from her fingers.

“Do what you have to do.” She crosses her arms tightly against her chest, and it takes a hero’s effort not to glance down at her ample cleavage. Jesus, Hash. This is not the time.

“We’re gonna find her, Shel. And it’s not like we’re going into this kid’s house, guns blazing. We aren’t heartless bastards. We won’t hurt him unless we have to.”

Shelby mulls that over before finally nodding.

My computer beeps from behind me. “Got something,” I declare as the screen pops up with a list of results from the search. With a click of the mouse, I switch over to the maps function. No street view. Pulling up another window, I type in the address on a realtor site. Nothing. We’ll have to go in blind.

“Fuck, is that Martinsville?” Judge presses a finger to the screen. Shit, he’s right. The kid lives on the outskirts of Martinsville, one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the city.

“Why is Martinsville bad?” Shelby asks at nearly a whisper.

Back before the recession, it was the heart of manufacturing in Austin. When the market tanked, all the factories closed up shop or moved overseas, leaving the people who depended on them in the area jobless, and some homeless. Things had only gotten worse as the years went on, with violence and trafficking moving in as the factories moved out. The club had been trying for years to help stop the routes these guys used to move women in and out, but never had much luck. Without an in, anything we did went nowhere. Now my daughter could be in the thick of it.

The look on Judge’s face confirms what I already know is true. Martinsville is known for trafficking young girls. Hayden was taken for a purpose. Trafficking always needs younger, fresher blood, and she ticks off the checklist. She may not have even realized they were grooming her to be taken until it was too late.

The last bit causes bile to rise up my throat. Trafficking rings move girls around like pawns on a chess board. She may not even be there anymore. We have to move fast.

Ignoring the fear on Shelby’s face, I attempt to remain professional about the whole shitty situation. “How do you want to do this, Judge? Getting in there unnoticed isn’t going to be easy.”

He considers our options. “We need to get eyes on this place without drawing attention.”

Chewing on my lower lip, an idea pops into my head. “Why don’t we send Priest in one of the club girls’ cars?”

Shelby stands there silently, watching us lay out a potential battle plan. Her eyes fall to the ground and stay there. She’s scared.

“It’s risky. If it’s a big operation, they’ll have eyes out. “

“Single guy driving through the thick of Martinsville looking to score won’t draw any attention.”

“That’s true,” Judge hesitantly agrees. “I’ll get Missy to loan him her Grand Am. He’ll slip in, get eyes on the place, and report back. We’ll take a couple of the work trucks and follow him, and we’ll decide from there how we want to play it. I’ll get the ball rolling. Wheels moving in fifteen.” Judge stalks out of the room, leaving Shelby and I alone.

I push out of my chair and stand next to her. Everything inside of me wants to reach out and embrace her. I know she’s scared. Fuck, I am too, but we have to stay strong for our daughter. Falling apart when we’re this close isn’t going to bring her back any faster.

“Do you think she’s really there?”

“I don’t know if she is or isn’t, but this kid…” Snagging the ID from my keyboard, I show it to her again before slipping it back into my pocket. “He’s the last person we know of who saw her. We find him, we get our best shot at finding her.”

Shelby places her hand on my arm and locks her gaze on mine. “I saw the way you looked at Judge. What aren’t you telling me?”

She deserves to know of my suspicions of why Hayden was taken, but that knowledge comes with an entirely new set of heartbreak. With a sigh, I make my decision.

“The last few years, there’s been a route of human trafficking going right through Martinsville. The club has tried to cut it off, but they always start right back up again.” The words taste foul on my tongue.

“Oh my God, Wyatt. You don’t think...?”

“I don’t know. But honestly, the way she was taken, and knowing where that asshole kid is from, it’s not a possibility we can rule out.”

“No, not my daughter. It’s not possible. I refuse to believe that!”

“I don’t want to consider it either, but everything points in that direction. The sooner we find her, the better. Traffickers usually stash the girls for a few days before moving them out. There’s still time.”

“What if we… don’t?” she sobs, a line of glistening tears streaming down her face. I reach out my hand, and with a gentle swipe, wipe them from her face. Her skin feels so soft under my touch. She leans into my hand, allowing me to touch her for the first time since she came back.

“I promise you, come hell or high water, I will find her.”

“Trucks are loaded up. Judge is ready to roll,” Karma informs me from the door, and then disappears just as quickly as he arrived.

I turn back toward my desk and open the top drawer, retrieving my handgun from its resting place. Stowing it in the back of my jeans, I say, “I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.” I walk out of the room, leaving her there with the knowledge of the fate our daughter could be facing, and no means to anything herself. It eats at me with every step I take as I make my way outside.

I reach for the passenger side door when I notice GP’s eyes trailing over to the door behind me. I turn to see what he’s looking at, and find Shelby heading toward me.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” I bark as she slips past me and opens the truck door.

“With you.”

“The fuck you are. You need to stay here where it’s safe,” I fire back, closing the door on her.

“I don’t care what you think. I’m going in this truck or following behind you in my car. Your call.” You have got to be shitting me right now. We have no idea what we’re walking in to. Fuck. Judge is going to have my ass later for this, but I’m left here with little choice. We’ve got to get a move on.

“Get in,” I growl, opening the door. GP scowls as Shelby jumps up and into the front cab, settling into the middle seat. Climbing in after her, I close the door.

“The fuck she doing here?” Stone Face complains from the back seat. “Ain’t no place for a woman.”

“Try telling her that,” I respond. “Let’s just go find this kid and get back before Judge realizes she’s with us.” I shift back into my seat as GP takes the truck out of park and heads south.

Martinsville is about a fifteen-minute drive without traffic, and tonight, it figures everyone’s out on the fucking road. We barely make it a mile before we come to a full stop. GP stews behind the wheel.

Shelby’s knee bounces anxiously next to mine. If she only knew the fury swirling around inside of me. One of my foster fathers used to tell me that I was like a duck on a pond. On the surface, it seemed as if I was still and calm, though under it, I was a raging storm of feet, kicking and fighting to stay afloat. It wasn’t until today that I understand what he meant. Compared to Shelby, my demure is even keel.

It takes another forty minutes before we finally make it to the right exit. As we do, my cell phone rings.

“Yeah.”

“Priest called. He made it to the address,” Judge declares.

“What’s the situation?”

“Place is burned to the ground, and still smoking. I’m sorry, Hash, but there’s nothing left there.”

My fingers pinch the bridge of my nose. Fuck. And just like that, we’re back to square one, and no closer to finding Hayden.