“Is this an appropriate subject in front of the children?” Blythe demanded, but she was laughing and let Czar kiss her until she was breathless.
“Sex is a part of life, baby. It’s a part of intimacy with their chosen partner. I don’t want them to ever feel shame.”
Breezy didn’t think any of the Torpedo Ink members had inhibitions when it came to sex, but then she’d been around the parties and somehow, she didn’t think Blythe had. Breezy had no inhibitions either, none at all, not when she was with Steele. Watching Czar with Blythe, she doubted if Blythe had many, but she was far more reserved than Bree would ever be.
She watched both kiss the kids good-bye and usher them out of the house. Instantly, the atmosphere changed. Code leapt up and got his laptop, opening it. The others positioned themselves around the table again. She found her heart pounding as they all settled, with Czar at the head of the table.
“Bree.” Code addressed her first. “I need to know names and everything else you can tell me about your grandparents. I’ve found Bridges’s birth certificate, but only his mother was listed, not his father. Can you give me any information on them now? I haven’t found any information on his mother since about forty years ago. Did you ever meet either of them?”
Breezy took a deep breath. This was important, although it had been drilled into her never to talk about her father’s parents. “According to my father, my grandmother Carlotta detested children. She had my father alone because my grandfather, Boone, was in jail by the time she had him. He was in for armed robbery. Carlotta and Boone were never married. From what I understand, Carlotta beat the crap out of Bridges, and any lover she took was encouraged to do the same. She hated him for messing up her life, and then loved him because he belonged to her. The moment Boone was out, she handed Bridges over to him. Boone was in the Swords club, so Bridges grew up in the club.”
“Last names,” Code demanded without looking up.
“Carlotta’s is the same as Bridges. Simmons. Boone is from a very wealthy family, at least that’s what I was told by Junk. He said Boone terrorizes his family when he’s out of jail and they do anything he says. It’s Abernathy.”
Code’s eyebrows shot up as if he recognized the name, and maybe he did. Breezy had heard enough about the old man that she didn’t want to ever meet him or his family. “Boone was pretty nasty, from what Bridges said, and I only saw him once or twice.”
“Do you know where they live?”
Breezy was horrified. She could feel the color draining out of her face, and her heart beat wildly. She tasted fear—no, terror—in her mouth.
“Do you really think my father would take Zane to either of them? He detests his mother and father with every breath he takes.” The sound of her voice was thin and wavering.
Immediately, Steele shifted closer to her, as if he could protect her from the idea of Bridges’s father or mother having anything to do with her son. She pressed her hand to her chest and leaned against Steele’s hard strength. She needed him. She didn’t care that he’d hurt her. Or thrown her out. Or crawled out from under naked women. She needed strength, and he had it in abundance. She was so dizzy she could barely find air. The room spun and tilted crazily.
“Breathe, baby. We’re going to find him. I promise you that. Code is covering all the bases, that’s all. If we can rule them out, we’ll have two less places to check.”
The absolute confidence in Steele’s voice penetrated the terror. She forced air into her lungs, but she didn’t pull away from him. Did it matter if she was embarrassed later? The only thing that truly mattered was getting Zane back.
“Carlotta is with a man, Jacob Daltry, who owns a plantation house just outside of New Orleans.” She gave Code the parish. “Boone is much more difficult. His family owns a ton of properties. When he’s not in prison, he chooses one and just moves in, regardless of who is in it, from what I understand. That’s what makes him hard to find when the cops are after him.”
“What about Bridges? Are there places he likes to go when he wants downtime? Or when the cops are after him? A fishing or hunting camp? Tell me about him,” Code persisted. “The more I know of him, the more we can narrow down any of the Abernathy properties that he might choose to go to. If his father does that, maybe he thinks he can do what his father has always done—use the family holdings to hide.”
The questions forced Breezy to think about her father. She realized she never did that. She tried to put him out of her mind as much as possible. She had when she was a child as well. She’d been a frozen little mouse, afraid if she even thought about him, she would come to his attention and he’d hurt her. For a long time, the emotional damage was far worse than the physical. At least Bridges tolerated Junk, but she didn’t seem to be worth anything at all to him—and that had hurt for the longest time.
“When he’s not on his Harley, he drives a Jeep. He only will drive a Jeep. Once, he needed to rent a car and he nearly beat up the attendant because they’d rented the Jeep they had to someone else.”
“That’s good, that’s the kind of thing I need. I can find Boone’s family properties easily, but Bridges’s habits are what is going to trip him up,” Code encouraged.
“He drinks Jack Daniel’s and smokes Marlboros. He prefers to get his gas at a mini-mart, where he can load up on snack foods, like Twinkies. He likes diners but not a restaurant if you understand what I’m saying.”
“People have habits, Bree,” Code said. “He has them. Patterns. Keep talking about him.”
“He uses women all the time. I can’t tell you how many women he moved in with and then pawned me off on when I was little, so they were forced to take care of me. He said he could avoid mortgages by letting the women pay.”
“Did he stay friendly with them after he left?” That question was from Transporter.
Breezy shrugged. “He beat the hell out of them, terrorized them so they wouldn’t dare leave him or report him, and then he would leave, but often, he’d go back time and again just to scare them. I don’t think you could call them his friends.”
“I need a list. Every name you remember. Every town. Every address. If he had no problem dumping you on them, he might not have a problem dumping Zane on them,” Code said.
Breezy closed her eyes and pressed her head into Steele’s chest. She hoped Zane was with one of Bridges’s past ladies and not at one of the Abernathy properties. At least he’d be safe. The women hadn’t always liked taking care of her, but they’d done it, and some of them had been nice.
“Medications?” Code prompted after she had rattled off the last of the women’s names she could remember.
Her head was still pounding from all the wild crying earlier, and thinking about her father wasn’t helping. She thought about trying to be strong and sitting up away from Steele, but it seemed like too much trouble, especially when he was rubbing her arm soothingly. She could feel his chest moving with every breath he took. When he exhaled, it was warm air against her neck and it felt familiar to her. Familiar. Intimate. A connection betw
een them when she desperately needed someone.
“He takes heart medication and always gets it at a Winn-Dixie. He doesn’t like the other pharmacies. It’s the same with actual groceries. He refuses to go to any of the bigger supermarkets.”
Reaper stirred. “Sergeant at arms for the chapter? Anyone know? If Czar took off, I’d be on him immediately. If we know who it is, we can track him as well.”
“That’s a good point, Reaper,” Czar said. “You don’t let me shave without one of you checking the shaving cream.”
There was laughter, but it didn’t ease the terrible weight pressing down on her. They spent the next couple of hours questioning her about every detail of her father’s life, going as far back as she could remember. In the end, she felt worn out and drained, but somewhat hopeful. If they were that thorough, then maybe they wouldn’t be looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack.
“We’ll take the majority with us,” Steele said. “Everyone volunteered to go, and Bree and I thank you for that. Czar, I think it best if we leave your team with you and I’ll take mine with me. We’re used to working together, and Reaper and Savage will—”
“I’m riding with you,” Savage said and got up. He pushed his chair back to the table, nodded at Blythe, leaned down to brush a kiss on the top of Anya’s head and prowled out.
Savage prowled. He never just walked, Breezy decided. There was something very scary about him. His declaration was met with silence.
“Should I be worried about him?” Breezy asked. “I don’t need a powder keg.”
They all looked at her. Focused entirely. She felt familiar fingers of fear creep down her spine.
“You should worry about your man, not one of us,” Reaper said. “No one goes up against Steele when he’s pissed. No one. Not me. Not Savage. You’re sitting next to the powder keg.” He got up, held out his hand to Anya and they followed Savage out.