Merrick: Harlequins MC (53 page)

CHAPTER
THIRTY SEVEN

They had to wait until they were sure the cops had suspended their search in the woods before they could go out hunting for the bag. It had taken the better part of three days. They'd been staying at the same motel in Hillside that he'd taken Cassie to after that night in the woods. They hadn't been back to the clubhouse and were doing their best to avoid Carl. Which wasn't easy given the fact that he called ten times a day for a progress report on finding the bag. He was growing impatient.

“Look, man,” Damon said into the phone. “We're on it, okay? We had to wait until the cops were out of the woods before we could even start looking. You know that.”

“All I know is it's been almost four days now and I don't have my shit back yet, Damon,” Carl said.

“I told you you'd get it back,” I said. “And you'll get it. Now, is there something else you needed or can I get back to what I was doing?”

“I'm not fuckin' around, man,” Carl said. “Get me my shit.”

“Okay, great,” he said. “Good talk, man.”

Damon disconnected the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket. Cassie looked at him with worry in her eyes.

“He's getting pissed,” she said.

“He'll get over it.”

“I'm sorry, Damon,” she said and he saw the tears welling in her eyes. “I'm so sorry.”

He walked over to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. He kissed the crown of her head and stroked her hair.

“It's not your fault, babe,” he said. “If it's anybody's fault, it's Carl's. You never should have been in that situation to begin with. Carl never should have forced you into that position.”

“But if I could only remember where I put the bag – ”

“How could you?” he asked. “You were running for your life in the middle of the night, through a forest you aren't familiar with. No, this is not your fault.”

They'd been walking through the woods behind the hotel for hours, starting at sunrise and it was already well past midday. They were both tired, sweaty, and their nerves were frayed. It was the most stressful walk through the woods Damon ever remembered having. They stood, embracing for another moment before she pulled away and looked at a group of trees thoughtfully.

“Wait,” she said. “Those look familiar.”

She disentangled herself from him and started walking toward the trees. She touched the trunks and looked up into the canopy overhead. Damon followed her as she walked past the trees. She was doing everything she could to remember which way she'd run and where she might have hidden the bag. But even he thought a lot of the trees and bushes out there looked the same. And that was by the light of day. It would have been even worse in the middle of the night. Especially if you didn't know the area.

Damon was beginning to have some doubts that we were actually going to find the bag. And that worried him more than a little bit. In the back of his mind, he was already making alternate plans. He was thinking it might be a better idea to get Cassie on the back of his bike and get the hell out of Kingston. For good.

Maybe getting out of there and making a fresh start somewhere else might be the best thing for both of them. This was a big country, so he wasn't too worried Carl would ever find them if that was the way we went. But there was a part of him that was reluctant to pull the trigger on that plan.

Like it or not – and sometimes he really, really didn't – Kingston was his home. The Dragons were his family. Carl had taken him in a lifetime ago and had given him a brotherhood. A friendship. A family. He'd given Damon a home. The thought of throwing that all away opened a pit in his stomach.

“Shit,” Cassie said. “I don't know this place. I thought I did, but I don't know.”

“It's okay, babe.”

Tears fell down her face and all he could do was embrace her. It wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. She couldn't remember exactly where she'd gone or where she'd hidden the bag, but there was no way in hell Damon was going to blame her or get upset with her about it. He couldn't. She'd done it to protect him. To protect the club. Carl should be down on his knees thanking her for taking that on her own shoulders instead of threatening the club over it.

“It's not okay,” she cried and shook her head. “It's seriously not okay.”

Damon guided her over to a large flat rock and sat her down. He pulled a bottle of water out of his bag, opened it, and handed it to her. She gave him a small smile and took a long drink, gulping down half the bottle. Knowing they would likely be traipsing around the woods all day, he'd been sure to stock up on snacks and drinks.

“I don't know what we're going to do,” she said.

Damon shrugged. “We're either going to find it or we won't.”

Her laughter was a short, sharp bark. “That's very Zen of you.”

“It's just the truth,” he said. “We'll keep looking, but at the end of the day, there's nothing more we can do. We're doing the best we can. You're doing the best you can.”

“And if we don't find it?” she asked. “What then?”

He sighed. “I really don't know.”

“Carl's going to be pissed.”

Damon nodded. “Yeah, but he's already pissed.”

“I'm afraid of what he might do if we can't find it.”

“We'll cross that bridge when and if we come to it.”

She looked at him, her eyes wide. “You don't think he'd... ”

Her voice trailed off but Damon knew where she was going. “No, I don't think so. Carl's a lot of things, but he's not a killer.”

She seemed to breathe a small sigh of relief, but she still looked worried. Scared. Probably because he hadn't said it with much conviction. The truth of the matter was Damon had no idea what Carl was capable of. He knew Carl personally wouldn't kill them. But that wasn't to say he wouldn't have one of the other guys, maybe somebody who had an axe to grind with him, do the job.

Cassie looked all around us, turning in circles. Her eyes were wild and Damon knew she was desperately trying to figure out which way she'd gone and where she might have hidden the bag. She'd take a few steps this way and then a few steps that way. Her every movement was frantic, seemingly on the verge of panic.

Finally, she stopped. She lowered her head and Damon watched her body shaking as she sobbed. He walked over to where she was standing and wrapped his arms around her.

“I'm sorry, Damon,” she said. “I'm so sorry. I don't know where it is.”

“It's okay, babe. We'll figure something out.”

She looked up at him, her face red and blotchy, tears streaming down her cheeks. “We should go. Leave. We should just get on your bike, ride away, and never look back.”

“Run away?”

She shrugged. “Beats the alternative.”

“I won't lie, it's crossed my mind a few times.”

“Maybe we should do it.”

Damon nodded and looked at the woods around us. “Yeah, maybe.”

“We can go somewhere far away,” she said, hope in her voice. “We can get jobs or something. Live a completely different life.”

He took her by the hand and started leading her back toward the hotel. Continuing to walk around in the woods wasn't going to do any good. She had no idea where the bag was hidden and being out there, continuing to fail at finding her path, was only stressing her out. Damon thought maybe it was time they actually start discussing and planning alternatives. Maybe he really was going to have to leave Kingston.

As they walked, Damon told himself it would be okay. As long as he had Cassie by his side, everything would be fine. They'd build a new life. He didn't know how, but they'd manage. They'd be okay.

They had just stepped out of the forest and were walking across the field toward the parking lot of the hotel where he'd left his bike when Cassie stopped. Damon turned to look at her and she started laughing.

“Are you okay?”

She shook her head. “How could I be so stupid?”

“What are you talking about?”

She doubled over, her laughter becoming nearly hysterical. When she looked at him, Damon saw an inscrutable expression on her face. Eventually, she was able to get herself back under control. She stood up and caught her breath, wiping away the tears of laughter that had leaked from her eyes.

“Are you having some sort of psychotic break or something?”

“How could I have been so stupid?” she asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“The tracker,” she said and pressed her hand to her forehead. “With everything that was going on, I completely forgot about the tracker.”

Damon looked at her, confused. “What tracker?”

“The one Andy hid in my purse,” she said. “I stashed it in the bag the night Carl gave it to me.”

His confusion turned to hope and then to excitement. “Seriously?”

She was nodding vigorously. “Yes, yes! I can't believe how stupid I am! I totally forgot!”

Damon grabbed her and wrapped her up in a fierce bear hug. “You are a genius, babe. A goddamn genius.”

“If I were a genius, I wouldn't have forgotten about the tracker in the first place.”

“You had a lot on your plate at the time,” he said, smiling broadly. “I think you can be forgiven.”

Damon stepped away for a moment and pulled the phone out of his pocket. Still smiling – and feeling a tidal wave of relief sweeping through him – he dialed Breaker's number. Cassie laid down in the grass and stared at the sky with a smile on her face that stretched from ear to ear as he waited for the call to go through.

“Damon,” Breaker said when he answered the call. “How ya doing, man?”

“Far better now than I was ten minutes ago,” he beamed.

“Why? What's up?”

“Do you remember that tracking device you found in Cassie's purse?” he asked. “The one that her ex stuck in it?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Think you can do whatever it is you do with your computers and find out where it is?”

Breaker laughed. “This have anything to do with the bag of shit Carl's been on a warpath about the last few days?”

“It does, indeed.”

“Please tell me that tracker is in the bag,” he said. “So shit can start getting back to normal around here.”

“Yeah, sorry about everything, man,” Damon replied. “I didn't intend for everything to go sideways like this.”

“Not your fault,” Breaker said. “Shit happens and all that. All I know is that I'll be a happy man when this is all behind us.”

“That makes two of us, brother.”

“Okay, I got it,” he said. “I pulled up your cellphone location and the location of the tracker.”

“Just tell me where to go.”

Cassie stood up and walked over to where he was standing, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face in his back.

“It looks like,” Breaker said, “that tracker is pinging about a mile and a half east of you.”

“A mile and a half?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Breaker said. “Not too far from where you're standing, actually.”

“Great,” he said. “I'll call you if I need more direction. Thanks, man.”