11. Jett

11

JETT

“ I s that everything?” Domino asks Diesel.

The three of us are standing around a laptop, looking at pictures of the men from Hell's Scoundrels who were there the night Rowan's father killed that man. Four mugshots are pulled up along with a laundry list of their crimes.

Two of the men have outstanding warrants out for their arrest, which I assume we’ll be using as blackmail at some point. That still leaves Antonio, Rowan’s dad, and another accomplice, Terry.

“You make it sound like I didn’t spend the better part of five hours correlating and condensing information, cross-checking criminal databases, and hacking into secured accounts,” Diesel grumbles.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Domino says, clapping Diesel on the back. “I appreciate everything you do for the club. God knows I couldn’t do any of the technical stuff, tracking, and hacking you do.”

“Yeah,” Diesel replies with a shrug.

The Prez glances at me and then back to Diesel as if I’m supposed to do something about our broody friend and brother. I glare right back at him.

“You, uh, doing okay?” I awkwardly ask.

Diesel lets out a heavy sigh and rubs a hand down his face. “Sorry, guys. I haven’t been sleeping well and it’s starting to show.”

Domino gives me another look, but this time it’s filled with sympathy and understanding. Diesel is smart, hardworking, and even charming when he wants to be. But the Prez and I know there’s a darker side to our brother. He still battles demons from his past, both from his time in the military and his childhood.

As the years have passed, Diesel has gotten more settled as a person. However, he still goes through seasons of insomnia, night terrors, and even bouts of paranoia. I don't understand what's going on in his mind half the time, but my heart goes out to him.

I’ve seen Diesel struggle even before we joined Deviant Souls. We first met after I moved away from home. He was a street rat who ran in some of the same circles I did. We attended a few parties together and ended up as roommates for a few months. He carried a raw kind of pain with him way back then, and that was before he joined the military.

When we reconnected years later, Diesel was the one who suggested I pledge for Deviant Souls. I was aimless at the time, not sure what to do with myself after spending the better part of a decade raising my sister.

Aside from Forest, my oldest friend, Diesel was the only connection I had to my former life. Forest moved to the top of a mountain years ago and loves his solitary life up there. We still talk, but I would go crazy if I had to be alone with my thoughts in the wilderness. Sometimes I wonder if it’s getting to him, too, but I don’t think Forest would ever admit that.

“It’s fine, we understand,” I finally say, realizing it’s been too long since I’ve spoken. “You can talk to us about stuff, you know.”

Domino nods in agreement.

Diesel shakes his head no. “Thanks but I’m okay. I’m just…” He trails off, then continues, even though he supposedly doesn’t want to talk about it. “I’m just in a funk right now. No sleep, trouble focusing… but it’s not just my past shit haunting me. I mean, that’s always there. But this new feeling is like… I’m missing something.”

“Did you lose something?” I ask.

“No, not like that. I’m missing something. A piece of me.” I look over at Domino, who is no help in this situation. My friend sighs again and rubs his eyes. “I don’t fuckin’ know what I’m saying,” he mutters. “Never mind.”

I squeeze his shoulder and then ask some questions about the research he’s done on Hell’s Scoundrels. This seems to be the right move. He snaps out of the mood he was in and tells us about what he’s found.

Thirty minutes later, we have a plan in place for running those motherfuckers out of town. Hopefully, it will get back to Zeke, wherever he’s hiding out, and we can be rid of the plague that is Hell’s Scoundrels.

I hop on my bike, revving the engine before peeling out of the parking lot. My woman is waiting for me at home. Damn, I like the sound of that.

I pull into my driveway in record time, already missing Rowan even though it’s only been a few hours. It’s not just the taste of her lips, the feel of soft skin, or the sexy little sounds she makes when I kiss her neck; it’s everything about her. Those purple eyes pulled me in from the moment I saw her, but it was the depth of her soul and the tenderness of her heart that made me fall in love with her.

She’s clever, sassy, and so fucking brave for having survived everything up until this point. I respect and love her so damn much, and I can’t think of a better woman to spend the rest of my life with. I have half a mind to propose as soon as I walk in the door.

I step inside the house and a cold, prickling sensation runs down my spine, making me hypervigilant. Everything in me is on high alert, assessing threats and looking for anything out of place.

My eyes dart around the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rowan or some evidence that she’s been here recently. I already know she’s gone, however. I can fuckin’ feel it in my bones. This house feels empty and soulless without her, just like me.

I quietly close the door and bend down, grabbing the knife I always keep in my boot. I make my way around the living room and through the kitchen, then down the hall, not sure what exactly I’m expecting to find.

All I know is everything feels off. It’s not just that Rowan isn’t here, it’s that she’s in trouble. I sense it somehow. I sense her. Calling for me. Waiting for me to save her.

“Fuck,” I curse when I open the door to the master bedroom. The bright afternoon sun spills over the carpet, highlighting thousands of little shards of glass.

My eyes follow the light right through the broken window next to Rowan's side of the bed. The side table has been knocked over, and the contents of the drawers are scattered everywhere. A broken lamp lies across the floor, and I can't stop the image of Rowan trying to defend herself against her attacker.

“Jesus fucking… what do I… where…?”

I stand like a complete idiot in the middle of the room. My mind is racing with a million thoughts, yet none of them are helpful at the moment. I tamp down the panic and fear, letting righteous anger rise to the surface. The protective, possessive streak I have for Rowan courses through me like lava, helping me to focus on what’s important right now. Finding my woman and ending whoever stole her from me.

With shaking hands, I reach for my phone. I consider calling her, but I don’t know what kind of situation she’s in. Maybe her phone would ring and give her location away or bring attention to the fact that she has a phone.

Instead, I call Diesel. He’ll know what to do. Plus, I have a feeling he needs the distraction from whatever hell his own mind is putting him through.

“Jett, you comin’ back to the clubhouse with Rowan? Domino and Calista are here.”

“They took her,” I choke out, trying not to yell and tear my goddamn hair out.

“Rowan? Wait, who took her?”

“Hell’s Scoundrels. Probably her father. I don’t fucking know yet. I just… I just got home but she’s not… she’s gone and the window is broken and I feel it, Diesel. I feel it. She’s gone and she’s in danger.”

“Take a breath for me, buddy,” he says, his voice calm and serious. I hear a few muffled sounds from the other end of the phone, and then Diesel returns. “Come back to the clubhouse. I can track her phone.”

“Will it make noise?”

“No, it’ll give us her GPS coordinates. Or, at least it will let us know if she’s on the move.”

“Be there in a minute,” I grunt out before hanging up.

I’m sorry I wasn’t here, beautiful. That’s the second time I’ve let you down.

I shove the guilt and shame way down deep, needing to tap into external anger at the moment. That’s what’s going to fuel me to find my woman. I can’t beg for her forgiveness if she’s…

Nope, I can’t go there. I can’t even think about the possibility of not seeing her again. That’s not an option. No way in hell. I haven’t even told her I love her yet.

The ride to the clubhouse is a blur. I probably shouldn’t have been on the road in my state of mind, but Christ, who could blame me? My brothers are here to help and they are my lifeline right now. I’d do anything to get Rowan back.

Domino opens one of the side doors to the clubhouse, motioning for me to join him. Once inside, we head to a conference room in the back where Diesel has his laptop and phone out. He checks one screen, then the other before looking up at me.

“Got it,” is all he says. Domino and I rush to his side, looking at a dot on the computer screen.

“Where the hell is that?” I ask, squinting to get a better look.

“From what I can tell, it’s an abandoned gas station between here and Texarkana,” he replies.

“So, a meth den,” Domino grunts.

“I think it’s more likely a meeting place for transactions of the less-than-legal variety. As in, one of many stops on the route to get cocaine from one side of the state to the other.”

“Either way, it’s no place for Rowan,” I cut in, not giving one single fuck what kind of drugs are done or traded there. My woman’s life is at stake. Nothing else matters.

“Agreed,” Domino says.

“That’s why we’re going after her. I just shared her location and tracking information to my phone so we’ll have it with us. If she moves, we’ll know about it and can call in backup.”

I nod while both men pat me on the back. “We got this,” Domino says.

“We’ll get your waitress back, Jett,” Diesel promises.

“Soon to be my goddamn wife,” I grit out.

Please, god, let that be true. Let me find her in time.