I hit the call button on the text message. I wanted to make sure he had the right person, even though Leon and Nero could be twins. The only difference between them was that Leon obviously looked older, and Nero had way more tattoos than his old man.
The call went to voicemail. I assumed he couldn’t hear the phone ringing over the sound of their collective engines, so I handed the phone back to Breaker and told him to keep an eye on it in case he called back.
“You got it, Boss,” he replied with a grin as he slid his helmet back on. I rolled my eyes and laughed.
Once we were all ready to get going again, I glanced over
my left shoulder before I signaled everyone to pull out. We had a long way to go to Poulsbo still and this six hour ride was a fucking killer. It was necessary though. A damn good reason for taking him this far way from Bend was my father. My lying, vindictive, manipulative father wanting him dead.
I wondered what Swing would say when I told him what happened in the meeting room. The real reason for Pardon wanting another year in the chair; to erase the memory of the Raders in the club. Swing didn’t have a fast temper, so it would probably take a few days to sink in with him before he finally reacted.
I knew that this entire thing wasn’t going to go well and in the end, I’d be left having to choose a side; Pardon or Swing. I was pretty sure that my actions so far had already said what side I was on, but would I really be able to watch Pardon die?
Thirteen
After fueling up a couple of times, we finally made it to Poulsbo. It was almost midnight, but I didn’t give a shit. If Swing was in the middle of fucking one of the locals, he’d have to stop so we could get moving.
It took another twenty minutes after crossing the city line to get to his place. I could only imagine how many people would be pissed off at us for rolling through, but again, I didn’t give a shit.
There was already a small calvary of motorcycles outside his apartment, so I knew that somehow Red had managed to get there before we did. When we pulled up and parked our bikes wherever they fit on the street, I saw the door was wide open and I rolled my eyes. That kid was one hell of a tracker, but he wasn’t much on common sense.
I pulled off my helmet and secured it on my bike. The rest of the guys followed me through the front door as we walked in and saw Red standing in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. On the sole couch in the room sat an older man with his face in his hands. By the shaking of his shoulders, I could tell he was crying. By the build of his frame, I knew it was Leon.
“What’s going on?” I asked Red.
“Turn around and look down,” he replied grimly.
“What?” I asked in confusion.
Red nodded toward the floor behind me, causing me to turn slightly.
“Holy shit.”
There was a small pool of dried blood that looked smudged, almost as if a body had been dragged through it. I crouched down and looked at it trying to determine if it was too much blood, but decided that someone actually had Swing and he could possibly still be alive.
“Do you think Pardon got here first?” Breaker asked me quietly.
“What’s that old bastard got to do with my boy?” Leon asked jerking his head up. I looked over at him and saw his eyes were red and the tearstains on his cheeks.
“We gotta find Swing. Worrying about that shit now isn’t going to help him,” I said to Leon. I got to my feet and looked around, “Anything left behind that can tell us where the hell he is?”
“Didn’t get a chance to look,” Red replied, glancing meaningfully toward Leon.
“Right. Alright, look around and see what you can find. I’m gonna try his phone and see if he answers,” I said, heading outside.
“Dallas.”
The tone in Leon’s voice stopped me. I turned around and waited while he came over to me and nodded out the door. He looked so damn tired and sad, that it made me feel like shit. Like I had set up Swing to be taken even though I knew it was the exact opposite. Me trying to save him got him fucking kidnapped and now I had to explain to his father what was going on.
“What’s Pardon got to do with this?” he asked again, his eyes trained on the night sky.
“Leon, I promise I’ll tell you everything once we find Swing. I can’t waste time on this right now. I need you to understand that I had nothing to do with whatever happened here and I’m hellbent on finding him in one piece,” I said, pulling out a cigarette and hitting dial on Swing’s number.
“Fuck,” I said after a while.
“What?” he asked, looking at me.
“It went to voicemail.”