Chance Taken

“We have to find her,” he adds.

“Why?” I can’t help but interject. “The further she is from Hunter, the better.”

Cross eyes soften for just a split second. “Believe me, I’d rather see the back of her too, but she helped the two of you get out of there, so she’s in danger now. Hunter would never forgive us if she got killed. But Hawk can’t find her anywhere. Do you know where she is?”

I shrug. In my mind, I’m seeing her standing beside me in that skimpy outfit, covered in blood, watching the car take Hunter to the hospital. A sight that I’ll never get out of my mind.

“That night… after everything… she said she was leaving for good,” I say. “That’s all I know.”

Cross nods. “We’ll figure it out. As for your involvement in what comes next, I understand you want revenge and you’ll get it. Just not yet. There’s still too much heat on you, with the sentence and the community service. And they’re gunning for you especially.”

“In the strip club, they were more interested in going after Hunter,” I say, flashes of the events of that night forcing themselves over what I’m seeing in the here and now.

“That makes no fucking sense,” Rook says.

He’s the club’s Sergeant at Arms and usually just a quiet and composed a man as Ice, his great friend. But his eyes are bright with anger now and his fisted hands are shaking. “They knew what that meant. They knew it’d be the end of them all.”

I was thinking the same thing back at that strip club, and I’m sure Hunter was too, right before they very nearly killed him.

“Hunter said it was Trixie who warned him about that job me and Reaper went on, the one he stopped and got Bam’s son arrested,” I say. “Maybe Bam was trying to get an eye for an eye.”

“And he’ll get it,” Cross says darkly.

“I agree, and I want to be with you when—”

“Bam’s not doing so good, from that bullet he took,” Tank interrupts in a serious voice. “You also killed two others back at the strip club and injured three more.”

“That was some very clear thinking and acting, Chance,” Cross says and I don’t think he’s ever spoken to me with such pride in his voice, at least not since I stopped being a small child. “You did your part for now. I need you to stay clear of this thing. At least until you’ve served your sentence.”

“That’s gonna take forever,” I say.

“There are too many eyes on you, the cops, the prosecutor, that woman from the foundation,” Cross says. “The shooting at the strip club is being investigated by the cops, because the body count was so high. As far as we can tell, they don’t know you and Hunter were there, but that can change quickly.”

“Our bikes are still there,” I interject.

“That’s been taken care of,” Cross says. “Your bike is out front. What comes next has to be done quietly. So you have to get back to serving your community service as soon as possible.”

“I can—”

“Chance, I understand what you’re saying, but you will stop arguing with me now,” Cross says in a not quite harsh voice, although I think he wanted it to be stern.

I nod and look down at my boots, clenching my hands together so hard my knuckles turn white to stop myself from doing what he told me not to, namely arguing. I feel like I’ll burst, just fucking explode, if he doesn’t let me do this thing with them, but I also get that his word on that for now is final, and as he’s my president, I have to go along.

“The woman at the foundation is kinda a challenge though,” I say, feeling a little disloyal to her for some weird reason. “She’s on a mission to save every woman who’s ever been trafficked and she thinks I do that for a living.”

“I’m sure you can handle her,” Cross says.

I’m not so sure he’s right, but I nod anyway.

“Go to the foundation today, if you’re up to it,” Cross says. “The shorter your absence from there, the better, as far as the cops are concerned. I’m not too worried about the Riders or the strippers talking to the cops, but it’s best we keep up a facade of normality.”

He scoffs darkly at himself for using that word. Normality. When will we have that again? The rest of the men grunt in agreement, probably thinking the same thing I was.

They’re showing every year of their age this morning, but they’re all hardened killers many times over. Avenging Hunter is in good hands with them.

A wave of sudden, bone deep sadness washes over me and I hate the feeling. So I straighten up, unclench my fists and head for the door.

“Fine, I’ll be at the foundation if you need me,” I say and grab the handle, then turn back to look at them. “But if Hunter… if anything changes at the hospital… I want to be told.”