“She’s throwing up, Boss. I didn’t sign up for this,” Scarface states.
“I’m not Henley, you idiot.” I wipe the spit with the back of my hand, grossed out, but it’s not like my captor is going to offer a towel or anything. I lift my head. This new guy Scarface called Boss is handsome in that classic way, wearing a fitted three-piece suit, Italian loafers. Definitely not from the club life, that’s for sure. I can still appreciate the man being handsome even though he’s a complete dumbass for kidnapping me.
“Jesus, I should shoot you right now. First of all, she’s clearly sick, and you can’t even offer her anything? And you didn’t get the right fucking woman? You and I are going to have a talk, Lorenzo. This is the last time you’ll screw up, or I’m going to send you back to Sicily.” Oh fuck, I think this is so much bigger than I first thought. There’s no way the club is tied to this type of organized crime, at least not that I’m aware of. Which, really, I’m not too in on the information, so who really knows.
“Why do you want Henley?” I probably shouldn’t have interrupted his tirade. Somehow, my mouth always seems to run away from me.
“That’s not for you to be concerned with. Who are you?” he asks. My head tilts to the side, unsure if I should answer the question.
“No offense, buddy, but I’m not going to tell you that. I’m not trying to get myself killed,” I respond. My head tips back. The feeling of getting sick again is still at the forefront of my mind.
“Let’s just say she was there for me when I needed her and leave it at that.” He sounds sincere, though it’s still off-putting.
“You could pick up a phone and call her, you know? Oh God, you don’t happen to have saltines or Sprite, do you?”
“Lorenzo!” he all but belts out, pure anger in his voice. I don’t hear what happens next. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and this time, it’s not from a gun.
CHAPTER 13
ROCKET
“How the fuck did you miss that?” I ask my dad after watching the surveillance footage over and over again. The shit part about security footage is that there’s no sound, so while, yeah, it’s hard to decipher, it shouldn’t have been that hard.
“Boy, you act like I’m someone who can read lips. Next, you’ll be askin’ if I know how to read Morse code. Let me go grab your sister and see if she knows who this idiot is, but, boy, you better control your anger, no matter how this plays out.”
“I hear you.” Dad has his finger out, pointin’ it my way. I fuckin’ get it. Henley’s been through nothing but a pile of shit the past six months or so. No one is ready to talk about it, not even her.
“Good,” he responds. I glue my eyes back to the clip, watch it over and over again in case I missed something else, trying to figure out why Sailor wouldn’t fight back. Sure, she’s a slip of a woman, but that doesn’t mean she’s weak. Fuck no, my woman is strong. Sailor could have gotten away from him.
“Jackson.” Henley’s voice sounds tired, haggard, much like her body looks.
“Come here, big sister.” I open my arms after standing up. She may be older than me, but I’m bigger than her. If only I could protect her against shit outside of my control.
“Oh God, Jackson, I’m so sorry, so freaking sorry.” She falls into me, her body wracking with sobs. I’m not sure why she’s apologizing, and frankly, right now, I can’t seem to even ask, not when Mom walks in and sees how upset Henley, and then tears are streaming down her own face.
“Ah fuck.” Dad walks back in, turmoil written all over his face at seeing his girls fall apart. It was all he could do when Henley and Mom came back from the doctor with news no parent ever wants to hear. He was stoic, didn’t break down, didn’t get upset, just took it in stride. In front of them, that is. We’d come back to the club, Dad would have a few drinks, hit the weight room, and let all of his aggression out.
“I’m okay. Just, you know, there’s a lot going on,” Mom tells Dad.
“You alright, sis?” She nods her head, attempting to control her emotions. There’s no way that’s the truth. Putting on a front has been her goal lately, but here, right now, even with my shit swirling around, I want her to be real with me.
“Yes, no, maybe? It doesn’t matter. I will be, though. Dad said whoever took Sailor said my name. Can I look at the surveillance tape?” I glance at Dad, asking him silently if he thinks she’ll be okay. When he gives me the go-ahead, I pull away from Henley and move the chair so she can sit down.