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Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC 3)

Page 81

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“Shit, it’s raining hard. Okay, the kid got a call and took it outside, but I overheard it as I was leaving. Whoever was on the line asked him to do an errand. For Lefty. Wanted him to pick up some food for guys out at some barn who were guarding something.”

“God fucking damnit!” Jig slammed his clenched fist against the dash.

Zach swerved off the road and hit the brakes. “What’s going on, brother?” Once again, Rocket leaned between the front seats, any traces of playfulness vanished.

“Jig?” Izzy asked.

“Babe, I’m putting you on speaker. Repeat what you just said.”

Rocket and Zach’s reactions were just as violent as Jig’s, but they couldn’t possibly have been feeling the same rattled turmoil as he was. His woman was out there following some punk to a barn where they housed trafficked woman.

Fuck.

“Fuck!” he screamed again.

Maintaining his cool, Zach put a hand on Jig’s shoulder. “Iz, where are you now?” he asked.

“Heading west on Lamar Alexander Parkway. He just pulled out of that Italian place.”

Zach caught Rocket’s eye in the mirror and nodded. Rocket pulled out his phone and started a low conversation. Jig shook his head then rolled his shoulders and focused on what Izzy was saying. He needed to get his shit together so he could be useful to her and his club.

And an unknown number of abused teenage girls.

His body zinged with an electricity he’d felt a few times before. Bloodlust. Some motherfuckers were going to pay very soon.

“Good, Iz, that’s good,” Zach said. “We’re actually only five minutes away from where you are. Stay far enough behind him that he doesn’t spot you, though it doesn’t sound like he’s smart enough to pick up a tail. Still, be cautious. Stay on the line and navigate for us when he gets off the parkway. Okay? We should be pulling up behind you in a few minutes.”

Zach stomped on the accelerator, and his pickup shot forward, way faster than the speed limit and way faster than was smart given the near-freezing rain, but fuck it. They had to catch up to Izzy and fast.

“Will do,” Izzy said. Then she fell quiet, probably concentrating on the road and her mark.

“Babe, we’re in Zach’s black F-150. He’ll flash his lights when we’re behind you. You immediately pull over and head back home.”

A soft snort came through the phone. “Fuck that. You’re not getting rid of me that easy, bubba.”

Jig clenched the dashboard as hard as he could, trying to rid some of the rage-fueled tension building. “Where the fuck is your prospect?”

Izzy cleared her throat. “I, uh, kinda told him he could go get something to eat while I was working. In my rush to follow this guy, I forgot all about him.”

Jig looked at Zach. “He’s fucking dead. I want his cut. He’ll never patch.”

“Simmer down, brother,” Zach said. “We’ll worry about that later.”

Simmer down? Simmer down? “Would you be telling yourself to simmer down if Toni’s protection took off to stuff his fucking face?”

Tension filled the car as Zach clutched the steering wheel and shook his head.

“Uh, guys, still here, and turning left about a mile after that rundown silo. Shit, there’s no street sign. It’s a dirt road,” Izzy said.

“Know it, babe, you’re doing great,” Zach said.

All three men strained toward the phone. With the dull roar of the rain and the phone being on speaker, hearing her was a challenge.

“Okay, turning right three-tenths of a mile down. Another dirt road. It’s easy to see, first turn off.”

Zach smiled. The asshole was probably loving every second of this. “Your woman’s a rock star,” he mouthed to Jig.

Pride warmed Jig’s insides. Even though he hated her being anywhere near this shit, Zach had a point. Izzy was brave, courageous, loyal, smart, and for however long it lasted, she was his. Fuck, after this, Copper would probably patch her in as the first female member of the club.

“Iz, we’ll be coming up on you any second now,” Zach said.

“I’ve stopped,” she replied. “I can see a structure about a hundred yards or so ahead. Looks like an actual barn, so I don’t want to get closer and be discovered.”

When he spotted her crappy car, Jig’s stomach finally unknotted. Even though he’d known she was fine, having eyes on her confirmed her safety. “We’re pulling up behind you,” Jig said. “Get out of your car and into Zach’s truck.”

“Coming.” She disconnected the call, and darted from her car to Zach’s truck. She was so fucking brave, Jig wasn’t sure whether he wanted to praise her for her actions, hold her until he was one hundred percent certain she was all right, or spank the shit out of her for her recklessness.

“Shit, that rain is freezing,” she said, breathing hard as she slammed the door. She rubbed her hands together. “So, what’s the plan?”



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