Athena's Raid: Book Two Perdition MC (20 page)

And they were.

First thing she did, was replace the swing.

THIRTY TWO

First Thursday in Austin. Was there anything more awesome than this? The entire length of South Congress was taken up by vendors. Craft vendors, jewelry vendors, artisans, craftsmen selling handmade furniture, handwoven rugs, produce, pretty much anything one could fit inside a truck and then set up under a tent on the street, it was there. The smell of food from all genres was tantalizing, and she was so coming home with a hundred pounds of kettle corn. Cruncher was wearing his bumble bee outfit, and as pittie friendly as Austin was, he was not the only one wearing a cute outfit. If the girl dogs had opposable thumbs and cell phones, Crunchie would have taken home a bumble bee butt full of names on napkins. Squatch had stayed home, he didn’t do well in public, and seeing as how this was a ladies only outing, Ever hadn’t wanted to try to wrangle her neurotic dog and her adorable son at the same time.

Ever had Lyon in a stroller, which was also being used to haul their smaller purchases. They’d had lunch on the patio, under the misters at Guerro’s. Hands down the best Mexican she’d had yet, and enjoyed the people watching while they’d caught their breath and talked about what they were going to take on for round two. She was going for one of the hanging hammock chairs, while arguing under her breath with Ever about how she was NOT putting a sex swing up in the oak tree in the back yard. “Fine, fine. But I’m telling you, it’s the shit.”

“I believe you, but I’m not putting it in the back yard. Stop the bus, kettle corn just got bagged up fresh. Saw him do it.”

She put her three bags of kettle corn in the second stroller seat behind Lyon, aka Mr. Grabby Hands, and went to toss her empty drink cup. A hand clamped down on hers when she went to drop the plastic cup in the trash, and she immediately laughed because Austin was super green and someone was probably going to chew her ass for not recycling. But her laugh came out as a strangled little sound when she looked up to see the person who had hold of her.

He kicked his feet up onto the coffee table in what was now his very own, personal man cave. It was only an 800 square foot room, but it was his. The only place on the property where Athena hadn’t argued with him about the paint color. The color of the floor rugs. The style and color of their furniture. He wasn’t complaining about those arguments, not at all, because it usually turned out to be one of those times, where Athena had her say, and her way, and then he had her. Repeatedly. He loved her boho kind of style, how there were pieces of artsy shit all over the place, mixed in with the sleekness of the modern fixtures and the leather couches she’d insisted on. He’d tried to give his input, but the reality was he liked leather, motorcycles, black, and manly shit. Athena liked that too, but not to decorate the house in. He didn’t care, honestly, so long as she was happy.

But having his own space within her boho world of greenery and weird girly shit, was heaven.

He’d gone with dark red walls, black leather couches, big ass flat screen that took up half the wall, surround sound theater style speakers, every gaming console known to man, fridge full of beer, space for his brothers to kick it with him, and a covered deck out back where he’d be able to build himself another bike if he wanted to. “I’m building one of these for myself.” Roar stated firmly, seated next to him playing Assassin’s Creed with a focused frown on his face. “What for? It’d turn into a nursery for Ever to drop the kids at in like, five minutes.” Saint grunted, sucking on his beer bottle while he tried to sneak up behind Roar and kill him. “Fuck you, bro. Lyon would dig it. Teach him how to throw darts or something.”

“He’s barely a year old.”

“So? Never too young to start figuring shit out.”

The two of them bickered about whether or not it was right to let a one year old, play darts. If there was a kid friendly version, and whether or not Nasa would kick their ass if they asked him to check. They were busy, almost at like, level twenty or whatever. He smiled, because if not for a random twist of chance, he wouldn’t be sitting here with his brothers, listening to them dicker like an old married couple. The girls were out shopping, the boys were back home enjoying the break. What could be better?

Roar’s phone rang, and he scowled, muttering under his breath about man time, “Babe, I’m in the middle of a game. Whatever it is, just buy it.” That was how most of the conversations between Roar and Everly went, she’d ask him his opinion on something, he’d shrug and tell her to get it if it made her happy, Ever would bitch at him for his lack of input, they’d argue, she’d wind up buying it and they’d make up. Loudly. Way they went at it, he wouldn’t be surprised if Roar ended up with ten kids. “What? Get the kid in the car, head for the compound. I’ll meet you there.” He hung up, and the look that settled over his face, Raid’s guts turned to water. “Athena’s gone.”

He blew into the compound like a hurricane, and Top intercepted him before he could descend on Ever to demand to know what the hell had happened. Caught him around the chest and bodily hauled him down to Nasa’s station in the basement, the guy was hunched over his keyboard, eyes moving at light speed over the fifteen big ass monitors that made up his information highway. He didn’t even have to ask, “Got her on the security cameras leaving Congress with Woodward. He got her at a trashcan, has either a gun or a knife, because she went quietly. Let Cruncher go, and he went straight back to Ever with a two second pit stop to sniff some trampy poodle’s ass. Ever looked up here,” He pointed to a screen that covered the street where Athena had been taken from, “Looked for Athena, didn’t see her, Cruncher appeared and she was on the phone to us. Ruckus and Gee were on Woodward, lost him for two minutes in a parking garage, in those two minutes he stole a late model Taurus. No GPS, following it on any street camera I can get an angle on, they’re following soon as I can give them direction.”

He pulled his hand down his face, laced his fingers behind his neck and dug into the muscles there, doing his best to take deep breaths, stay calm and not give in to the panic, to the adrenaline rushing like battery acid through his veins. Crowded fucking street in broad daylight, and because he still had his fucking uniform, no one had questioned the cop detaining a suspect and moving her down the street.
Jesus
. “She hurt?” He forced out between his clenched teeth, and Nasa looked up at him briefly. “Watched him take her down the street and two blocks over. Took her into the alley the car was parked in front of for thirty seconds and came back out with her hands taped in front of her. Didn’t see her favoring any limbs, torn clothes or blood.”

Top squeezed his shoulder hard, a calming presence when he wanted to tear out of there on a rampage. Tear the city apart looking for her. But this was their best chance at getting to her on time. Had to be patient. Had to be smart. Had to do what was best for her. Had to stay calm. Had to be patient. Had to be smart. He repeated it like a mantra, over and over, breathing slow and deep, taking in so much oxygen that he felt dizzy.

The phone rang, his heart jerked up hard enough to bruise against his ribs, and Nasa took a hand off his keyboard long enough to slap the speaker, “Talk.” He ordered, and Ruckus’s voice filled the cave of computers. “We’re on the sedan.” A breath whoofed out of him hard, spots edged in his vision, “Is she okay?” He demanded hoarsely, and Ruckus didn’t fuck around. “Rode past on her side, she saw me while he was making a turn, gave me four fingers. Didn’t see any bruises or blood from the shoulders up. Hands are tapped. Waiting for Gee to get the truck to me, we’ll swap and go again. We’re taking turns following him so he doesn’t get wise. We’re on Burleson, he’s heading either for 183 or the backside of the airport.” Top nodded next to him, hands up under his armpits, his beard jutting straight the fuck out. “Don’t fuckin lose them.”

“No chance of that.”

He snarled at the kid to not get cocky, “That’s my woman in that car, Ruckus, don’t you dare swing your fucking dick and risk her life.”

“Not swingin my dick, boss. Gee tossed a credit card in the back seat of the car. Figured Nasa could track the RFID chip, since the car is a piece of shit and doesn’t have a GPS.”

Nasa grinned like a mother fucker and rolled left to smack another keyboard around, then rolled back and suddenly there was a red dot on a map, moving down 71. “Got it. How the fuck did he get a credit card in the back of the car?” Ruckus cleared his throat, and he could hear the kid smiling. “Athena rolled the back window down, Gee said she was bitching at the dickhead about the car not having AC.” He ducked his head to hide the tears that welled, managing to huff a little laugh. Life on the line, and his bitch was arguing with her armed kidnapper about the AC. Top grunted, nodding while he stared at the computer monitors, the map. “She’s smart, she knows him, how to push his buttons and stall for time. Go get her. We’ll feed you information as we get it.”

THIRTY THREE

She was starting to struggle to stay pissed off. Denny had shoved her into a car that reeked of stale French fries, was littered with junk food bags and all manner of trash, and had pushed the rolling garbage can to its limit. Which was about seventy miles an hour. Any faster and the engine sounded like it would fall out from under the hood at any second. She was crossing her fingers that happened sooner rather than later. The car was not his, a car without the Perdition model GPS tracer to broadcast their location. Denny had made her toss her favorite purse out the window, but like a fool he’d taped her hands in front of her and she was already plotting the moment when she would escape with ridiculous ease. In the meantime, she had two choices:

Sit calmly and quietly and let him continue to rant at her about how it was all her fault that he had to do this and let him take her wherever they were going with confidence.

Or piss off the man who’d murdered her uncle, and her damn Chihuahua, likely get hurt, stall for time so Raid could find her, and make Denny potentially have a coronary.

That last bit sounded like fun, but she breathed deep and tried to remember anything Uncle John had told her about getting kidnapped. He’d told her stories, told her scenarios, generally scared the shit out of her as a teen, but for the life of her right now, she could not remember anything except that she was supposed to be looking around for landmarks in case she got the opportunity to make a phone call. Landmarks that would give the police somewhere to start looking for her. Or her body. So, uncertain how to proceed, she decided to just go with her gut, and piss him off. “You couldn’t have stolen a car without ebola virus brewing in the backseat?” She drawled, hands in her lap, trying not to let her anxiety show, or the recognition when she saw Ruckus in a truck, and another prospect in plain clothes on a dirtbike, following them.

She held her breath as Ruckus passed them, made eye contact with her and given a short nod to let her know she wasn’t alone. Denny might be driving the car, but he was not in control. No matter the gun he kept pointed her way, concealed in his lap. If Ruckus was right there, Raid and the rest of the club wouldn’t be far behind. She just had to keep it together long enough for them to get to her.

She licked her lips and glanced at Ruckus again, getting a jerk of his chin as though he was asking her if she was okay. She scrambled with a way to assure him she was thus far unharmed. Um… she shook her hair back a few times, then raised her taped hands to push it out of her face so Ruckus could see the four fingers she held up. He drove by like any other commuter, and she did her best not to make a sound. “Put your fucking hands down! So help me god, if you don’t shut the fuck up, I will fucking pull over and hit you with the taser until you’re convulsing in a puddle of your own piss and drooling like a fucking dog.”

Denny would do it, she had no doubt of it, but then he would run the risk of getting pulled over with an unconscious, restrained woman in the front seat with no way to explain. “Please do, then I won’t have to smell this stench. God, it’s like a fuckin sauna, turn on the AC.”

“And take my hand off the wheel, or the gun? How stupid do you think I am?”

“Pretty stupid, actually. I’m rolling down the window.”

“Move, and I’ll shoot you.”

A few blocks later, she saw the other prospect in the cracked side view mirror, rolling up alongside them, looking like just some random punk on a rice rocket. Denny was making a turn, and she needed to distract him in case he recognized the kid. He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a…credit card? What was he going to do with that? “Then shoot me, but I am not riding in this garbage can like Oscar the fuckin Grouch, with no AC!” She used her elbow to hit the window mechanism, glad that the filthy sedan at least had power windows, otherwise this wouldn’t have worked. “It is one hundred and five fuckin degrees, Denny, I am sweating my tits off, and since you don’t have the brains to steal a car with AC, the windows are going down. It’s not like I can escape with my hands taped up like this!” The prospect kept going straight as Denny turned, “Not so stupid that I didn’t notice your boyfriend and his friends tailing me non fuckin stop! Saw that, didn’t I? Found the GPS tracker on my fucking truck, let them think I didn’t know it was there! Smart enough to lose those stupid pussies in their oh so fucking inconspicuous matching leather gang jackets.”