Chapter Thirty-Seven

BISHOP

"Seriously? Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Sarah said as we stood in the tiny kitchen of the club's safe house. "Why did he take her?"

"He's angry," I answered, rolling my shoulders uncomfortably. I hated not wearing my club cut, but we never showed up at a safe house with them on, and we never went in on our rides. We didn't want to draw too much attention or have people take notice. "He's angry that Shay helped you and Alice to get away from him. He wants her to pay for it."

Sarah slumped back, leaning against the counter. "It was seeing her stand up to him that day that finally gave me what I needed to leave," she whispered, swiping at a lone tear. "Up until then, I'd just been drinking myself into a coma daily to deal with the pain and the abuse."

It'd been less than a week since Sarah escaped Vince's clutches, but she was already looking so much happier and healthier. Her eyes were brighter, more alive, and not as sunken with dark circles.

"Shay saved my life," Sarah added, this time her voice loud with conviction and her chin lifted high.

I nodded. "And we're hoping you might be able to help us save hers." Her head tilted a little to the side as I continued. "We thought you might have an idea about places Vince might be, where he might have taken Shay. A house, a place he feels comfortable, anything that comes to mind?"

She pressed her lips together and scrunched up her nose, her eyes looking to the ceiling as she considered my question. "We always stayed at his parents' guest house," she finally answered after a few seconds. "It was out the back of their property on the golf course. He would leave me out there by myself when he didn't want me around. Lock the doors. Cameras set up. It was isolated, and I really had nowhere to go, so I would just sit in the house and get drunk."

I knew what it was like to be dumped in the middle of nowhere and feel completely hopeless. Even if she'd been able to get away, it wouldn't have necessarily meant freedom.

It was dangerous out there.

There were forests that went on for miles, so thick she could be lost in them for days, and it wasn't like there would be anyone looking for her.

"So I'm doubting that he would have gone back to the crime scene," I noted, tapping my foot. "You sure there isn't anywhere closer in the city. An apartment, a hotel he li—"

She gasped. "A hotel!" She pinched her eyes closed and clicked her fingers. "Dammit, what was the name of that hotel?"

"Can you describe it?" I urged, leaning in.

She shook her head. "No, I never went there with him, but he had me make a reservation there. Said he was meeting someone important, but he had me use a fake name, too, which I thought was weird at the time." She strummed her nails against the counter before slamming her palm down. "It was in the city!"

"It's okay," Rafe consoled her, his hand on her shoulder. "I'm gonna read some names out. Let me know if any of them sound familiar?"

I tried to keep calm as Rafe rattled off the names of hotels downtown. The kid was smart. I had to give him that.

And so far, he'd done a good job at keeping his cool and having my back, which I needed, given the rest of my men were stuck at the clubhouse talking to the cops. It was hard not having them all with me right now while my mind was at its foggiest, but I had to keep focused.

I had to find Shay before it was too late.

"Yes," Sarah exclaimed. "Yes, that's it. The Davenport!"

"And the reservation you made? It was for today?" I questioned, my body shifting like a runner preparing to leap off the start line at the sound of the gun.

"I think so," she answered with a heavy frown. "It was for this week. I made it just after Frank's birthday, and I remember thinking I needed to get out before that reservation because of the way Vince talked about it. He kept mumbling about how he was finally going to show his dad what he could offer. I just had this sickening feeling shit was going to hit the fan."

"All right, thanks!" I said quickly, my body already out of the starting blocks and heading for the door. "Let's go!"

Rafe was right behind me, the two of us all but running down the path to Missy's truck. I jumped into the driver's seat and started the engine, pulling out onto the road before Rafe even had his door shut.

"Call Hawk, let him know where we're going," I told Rafe. He instantly pulled out his phone and began to dial. "I don't think the whole club barging into the hotel is going to do anything but cause unwanted stress, but once they're done with the cops, I want them to be close by in case we need backup."

Rafe nodded, putting the phone to his ear. "Got it."

Autopilot took over as I drove, mindlessly driving toward our destination. I might not know street names or suburbs, but if you asked me how to get from one part of Detroit to another, I sure as hell knew the quickest way to get there.

I'd been riding those streets since I was a teen. It was demanded that we get to know our city early on in our prospecting time, so I would spend hours out there, determined to make Rook and my club proud.

But no matter how fast I drove or which shortcuts I took, it still didn't feel fast enough.

It was like those dreams where you tried to run from something chasing you and suddenly your feet were stuck in quicksand or glue. I needed to get to Shay as quickly as possible, but I kept catching every red light, every traffic jam, and every grandma in the crosswalk.

Rafe tucked his phone back into his pocket and braced his hands against the door as I took a sudden left turn. "Hawk said they're on their way. The cops are just leaving, and like you said, they seem pretty happy to just assume this is some kind of gang war."

I scoffed. "No surprises there. Even if we told them about Shay being taken, they wouldn't give a flying fuck. She'd just be collateral to them, and they'd make it out like it was her fault for getting mixed up with us."

It wasn't her fault. It was my fault I'd let it get this far.

I'd let her run out of the clubhouse and didn't go after her, so focused on Calli that I hadn't even considered someone pulling up to the clubhouse and asking for Shay to be strange.

"Who do you think Vince is meeting up with at this hotel?" Rafe questioned, tapping his foot. "Sarah sounded like she got a pretty bad vibe when he spoke about it."

I gripped the steering wheel, taking another sharp turn. "Whatever the worst is that you can imagine, I'd go with that," I answered, suddenly feeling fucking ill because it was becoming pretty clear that this whole circus wasn't just about revenge against Shay for taking his girls and embarrassing him in front of his parents.

He'd lost Alice. Then Sarah.

And they had a purpose.

By taking Shay, he was hitting two birds with one stone—he got his payback for her making a fool out of him, and he had someone to take the girls' place.

Sure, he had to kill his parents to get here, but he was already out of favor in their eyes, and I had no doubt Frank was already considering the risks of Vince's place in his business.

"Frank Martelli was a man who did whatever the hell he wanted," I explained to Rafe. "But he had a code that he lived by, just like we do. If Vince was really trying to do something crazy to impress his father, I could only imagine the plan he must have concocted."

Rafe clenched his fists. "I'd love to get him in a ring one day," he growled, cracking his knuckles. "I'd make sure he never made it out."

"Kid, if we get ahold of the bastard, I promise to make that happen." I would fucking delight in watching Rafe beat Vince bloody. "But you'd have to get in line behind me."

Rafe chuckled. "You know, I think people would pay… oh shit! That's it! There!" Rafe tapped at the window, and I pulled hard into the hotel entrance.

The kid reached back for his club cut, but I shook my head. "No. Leave it. Just in case someone's watching for us. They'll be looking for club colors."

A valet came rushing over as I climbed out onto the curb. "Sir! You can't just—"

"Try and stop me," I replied, brushing past him and heading for the front door.

Nothing was about to stand between me and getting my woman back.

Not the valet.

Not Vince.

Not even the fucking devil himself could keep me from her.