The Ruckus

“Yeah, because she knows deep down that he’s a crazy son of a bitch.” Which was absolutely true. But Axel was right. We wouldn’t have any idea where to start looking if Molly hadn’t given us some leads.

Muriel, Poppy, and the other guys had gone off in different directions across town to cover all our bases, but Axel and I decided to head straight for Randy’s most likely hiding place—his dad’s old hunting cabin.

Remote and secluded out in the middle of nowhere, it was exactly the place I would choose if I were trying to get away from everyone.

“Do you think he hurt her? Jasmine, I mean.” Axel’s voice was low and deadly. “Because I swear to God—”

“I know.” I cut him off. “Don’t even say it. Jasmine is tough. She’ll be okay. We’re gonna make sure she’s okay.”

Neither of us had to say the scary part out loud. The part where Randy would have had time to do anything he wanted with her while we’d been knocked out.

Fuck.

Fuck.

My hands tightened on the steering wheel, and I pushed the gas pedal down to the floor. We had to get there in time to help her. We had to. There wasn’t any other alternative.

“What are the chances the road we’re supposed to take is still washed out?” I asked as I turned onto one of the muddy dirt roads we’d traveled on the night before. “You do realize the place we’re heading is pretty close to Jasmine’s mom’s place, right?”

Axel grimaced. “Yeah, and I’ve been going back and forth in my head about whether we should try to get her family involved. On the one hand, they know this area better than anyone. But on the other hand—”

“They might shoot us first and ask questions later.”

“Exactly.” He looked over at me. “Still, it might be worth getting shot at if her uncle can tell us which roads to take and which ones to avoid. I hate to remind you about what happened to my truck...”

Yeah, no.

My truck wasn’t going to get washed away. Not as long as I was driving. My buddy Axel had a shit-ton of great qualities, but cautious, defensive driving wasn't one of them.

He’d made a pretty good point about Jasmine’s uncle, though. The old bastard would give us trouble if we pulled up to Jasmine’s mom’s house unannounced, but time was already against us, and we needed a guide.

“I guess that settles it, then,” I sighed, as if we’d had a choice at all. “Let’s hope her uncle doesn’t have an itchy trigger finger today.”

***

I said a silent prayer as we pulled up in front of the run-down house where Jasmine grew up. I had no doubt that Jasmine’s uncle was in there somewhere and probably already had a shotgun aimed at my head.

“The good news is that it’s raining again,” Axel muttered as I turned off the engine.

“How is that good news?”

“Maybe he won’t be able to get a clear shot through the rain.”

I snorted. So we’d both been thinking the same thing. That probably wasn’t the best sign, but it was too late to go anywhere else for help, and we didn’t have anyone left to turn to, even if we’d wanted to.

“Let’s try to make it quick,” I said. “Let me do the talking for now...”

Axel smirked. “You’re worried I’m going to smart off to the asshole?”

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about, yeah.” I stepped out of the truck and motioned for him to follow. “We’re not gonna provoke him, and hopefully, he won’t provoke us, either.”

“I wouldn’t count on that if I were you.”

I wasn’t counting on it. But I was still hoping for the best as we walked up to the front porch. The wooden steps leading up to the door creaked under our feet, and I was honestly surprised the whole place hadn’t blown away in the storm.

Nothing about the old wooden shack seemed safe to me—least of all the people occupying it.

Unfortunately, they were our best bet when it came to navigating through the dense, overgrown woods.

“The fuck are you boys doing here?” a familiar voice shouted from somewhere inside the house. “I’m gonna start shooting in about five seconds, so you’d better start talking or start running.”

“Or both,” Axel mumbled behind me.

I waved a hand to quiet him. “We’re not here to cause any trouble, Mr. Bailey. We need to talk to you about Jasmine.”

“You leave my niece out of this,” he snarled. “The two of you already brainwashed her against her own kin. I ought to shoot you just for that.”

So our conversation hadn’t started off as well as I’d hoped. He hadn’t started shooting, though, so I was going to take that as a good thing, and keep talking.

“No, sir.” I clenched my teeth. It grated on my nerves to speak respectfully to a man who had repeatedly threatened to kill us, but what choice did we have? “We didn’t brainwash anyone. But we’re here because Jasmine is in trouble. She needs our help.”