Silver Saints MC Volume 2 - Page 5

There was nothing to keep me in town. My classes were done, and I had returned my textbook rentals after my last final. I hadn’t elected to walk during graduation, and the school was going to mail my diploma to my parents’ house. I’d applied for a few jobs but hadn’t accepted anything yet. My lease wasn’t up for another two and a half months, so I hadn’t been in a rush to find a new place. I could disappear without a trace for a while without worrying anyone—which was good if I was the one doing the running and bad if John Clark wanted to get rid of me.

2

Hack

I was starting to worry that I would lose my fucking mind if I gave Paisley any more “space.” I was never far from her unless I was on club business. But when that happened, I had someone watching over her.

She was about to graduate, and I was done waiting. The beast inside me had been caged far too long, and the bars were nearly bent open. I’d been away on club business for the past three days, and it had nearly killed me, so I’d informed Mac, the prez, that I was taking some time off until I brought Paisley home with me. Considering the way he’d stolen and kept his wife, he was pretty understanding. In fact, most of my brothers had been mighty impressed with my patience. I was just as shocked as they were.

I brought my motorcycle to a stop in a parking spot only a few doors down from Paisley’s. My eyes swept the lot, and I frowned when I didn’t spot her little silver car. I kicked the stand down on my bike and stepped to the ground before swinging my other leg over the back. After grabbing my keys and shoving them in my pocket, I hurried down the sidewalk to apartment 4A. I stayed out of sight, mostly, over the months, but my instincts were shouting that something was wrong, so I decided it was time to make my presence known.

I knocked on the door and waited. Paisley had three roommates, and I’d seen all of their cars in the parking lot. The man I’d had on her had said Paisley was home too, so I didn’t understand why her vehicle was missing. Finally, a girl opened the door and giggled. “Hello, handsome,” she purred, making me cringe. All the girls in the apartment were over eighteen, but this one clearly had some maturing to do—physically and mentally.

“Where’s Paisley?” I asked gruffly, getting right to the point rather than acknowledging her inappropriate behavior.

Her lips tipped down in a pout that was probably supposed to be sexy, but just looked like my four-year-old niece when she wanted me to wear a crown at her tea parties. “She’s not here. But I’m sure I can help you out with whatever you need.”

I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath, praying for patience. “I need Paisley. Can you help me with that, little girl?”

Her face twisted in anger, and she huffed. “I don’t know where that little mouse is. Some old guy stopped by and freaked her out. Next thing we knew, she’d packed a bag and left without a word.”

Son of a fucking bitch!

I didn’t bother to reply before taking off toward my bike. Somehow, I just knew that motherfucker hadn’t kept his “word.” As I stalked back to where I was parked, I sent a text to Dom.

Me: Asshole didn’t keep his end of the deal. Went to check on Paisley. She’s gone.

Dom: Be on the road in twenty.

A small amount of relief trickled through me when I sent and received similar exchanges with several of my other brothers.

By the time I reached my ride, I’d sent over a dozen messages and had an army of people looking for her. As well as digging into John Clark’s latest activities. He wasn’t gonna get a second chance. I was taking that motherfucker down.

I went to the hotel where we’d stayed after confronting the Clarks and set up a tactical command center. One of our prospects, Benji, was almost as good with a computer as me, so I put in a call to him, and we discussed some strategies, particularly to find out what had spooked Paisley.

“What’s your instinct telling you?” he asked while I listened to the click-click of his keyboard over the connection.

“John Clark,” I spit. The name tasted dirty in my mouth.

“Then I’ll dig into him first.”

“Call me in an hour to check in. And don’t forget to run Paisley’s credit cards and check her phone history.” I could practically hear Benji roll his eyes. That was all pretty standard stuff, and he probably didn’t need me to tell him to do it. But I wasn’t taking anything for granted, and lucky for me, a prospect’s job was to shut up and do whatever a patch told them to do.

Tags: Fiona Davenport Romance
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