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Willa

I secure my hair in a bun at the base of my head, and grab my jacket from my closet.

“Ready, babe?” Oak calls.

“Coming.”  He’s taking me out for breakfast before he has to go back to the clubhouse.  I come out of the bathroom and he grabs me, his big hands immediately going to my ass to give it a squeeze.

“Fuckin’ love the things these jeans do to your ass, babe.”

“Oh, really?” I grin.

He gives me another squeeze.  “Fuck yeah.”

My hands come up to cup his jaw, and then his lips are on mine, teasingly tasting me.

“Oak,” I whisper as his tongue slides in my mouth.

He growls, tearing his mouth from mine.  He thrusts his hips forward, and I feel his impressive length, hard, ready.  “If we don’t go now, we won’t be leaving at all.”

“I’m not really hungry,” I state instantly.  My stomach betrays me, though, and growls loudly.

We both laugh, and he releases a slap to the behind.  Taking my hand, we walk out and lock up before climbing on his bike and heading to breakfast.

“What time do you start work? Oak asks as we walk along hand in hand.

“Three.”  I huff out a breath.  I’m so full my stomach has popped out and it looks like I’m pregnant.  I really shouldn’t have eaten the pancakes, on top of the bacon, eggs, and hash browns I had already consumed.  But, in my defense, they looked so light and fluffy, and I just couldn’t stop myself.  Especially when I had that first bite and realized they were even more delicious than I originally thought.

Oak bends down to pick up a stick and absentmindedly toss it into the woods.  We walk along in silence for a while longer, both enjoying the serenity around us.  The only sounds are those of the birds squawking in the trees above us, and the occasional rustle of leaves as a creature scurries into the bushes.

Oak’s ringing cellphone breaks the peacefulness.  He tugs it from his pocket and brings it to his ear.

“Yeah?”  He glances over at me while he is speaking.  “No.”  He pauses again and I notice for the first time the energy surrounding us has gone all weird.  “Yeah.  I’ll call you back later.”  He ends the call and slides his phone back in his pocket. 

“Is everything okay?” I ask, when really, I want to ask who called.

“Everything’s fine.”

“Okay.”  We wander on for a little while longer, and then decide it’s time to head back.

“Come here,” Oak murmurs.  He’s straddling his idling bike, having just pulled up in front of my apartment.

A few seconds ago, I climbed off from behind him, and now he’s pulling me to a straddling position in front of him.  My legs slide over his, and he pulls my butt down, so my crotch and chest come flush up against his.  My arms go around his neck and I hold him close.

“What are you doing to me, Willa?” he mumbles against my neck.  A hot flush spreads through my body.

“What are you doing to me, Oak?” I whisper back.

“You make me want things I shouldn’t want right now.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs and kisses my neck, sucking my pulse point.

“I’ll come by and pick you up before work,” is his reply.

“Okay.”

“Now give me your mouth.”

I give him my mouth, and it’s fucking awesome, despite the lingering feeling in my stomach that the little bubble I have placed us in is going to burst any moment.

***

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and for a split second I think Oak is here to pick me up.  But, then I register the feeling of dread in my stomach, and I know it’s not him.

I turn from where I am standing in the bathroom, and a scream rips from my mouth, just as Miguel’s palm closes around my throat.  He pushes me back into the wall and my hair products go crashing to the ground.

“Willa,” he snarls.  “You’ve made me very angry.”

My terrified eyes find his wild ones.  “H-how?” I manage to ask.  His hold on me isn’t constricting my breathing, but it is firm.

“You’ve made it difficult for me to find you alone, seeing as you’ve been spending time with a certain black man.”

“Sorry,” I squeak.

His hand squeezes tighter.  “Do you have my money?” His voice is evil and cold, but a smirk plays on his lips because he knows damn well I don’t have the money.

I shake my head slightly, feeling defeated.

“Ahh, just as I thought.” He smiles victoriously.  “Let’s go then.  You won’t need to bring anything.”

He releases his hold on me and I seize the chance, bringing my foot up to connect between his legs.  He doubles over on a garbled moan.  I see one of his goons coming for me and I grab the only thing I can get my hands on - my ceramic toothbrush holder.  I fling it at his head, and it connects, bouncing off to smash on the floor.  He grabs me and twists my arm painfully behind me.  Still, I continue to kick and scream.

My head drops and I bite into his arm so hard I taste blood.  He grunts in pain, but doesn’t release me.  That’s when I feel a sharp blow to the back of my head, and everything goes black.

Oak

“Where the fuck is she?” I roar, pacing up and down the cement floor, my phone held tightly against my ear.

“Calm down, Roman,” Chief Watson orders sternly.

“We need to find her.”  My voice is desperate.

Twenty minutes ago I arrived at Willa’s to take her to work.  I knew something was off the minute I turned off my bike.  Her front door was closed, but the lock was jimmied open.  I snuck inside and checked every room, methodically, and quickly.  The mirror in the bathroom was smashed, and some of her hair products were on the floor.  The entire room was a mess.  Other than that, everything else in the apartment was in order. Except Willa was nowhere to be seen.  I had jumped straight on my bike and rode to Club Z to see if she was at work.  When I got there, Carly said she hadn’t seen her yet. 

As I raced to my bike, I dialed Rad and filled him in.  Then, I pulled into a secluded location and rang my boss, Chief Pierce Watson.

“And, we will.  But you need to keep your head on straight. Stop letting your emotions affect your judgment.”

I huff out a sigh, knowing he is right.  I need to keep a cool head.  It’s fucking hard, knowing he has my Willa.  Knowing what a twisted, sick fuck Miguel is.  It makes my skin crawl and my blood boil with rage.  I’m also pissed off with myself.  I should have made time to talk to Rad, I should have called my contacts at the FBI. 
I fucking should have made time!
  The guilt is overwhelming, threatening to ruin me.

“Right.  We need to close the investigation down and pull you from the Zephyrs operation. We’ve got enough intelligence to make sure they all never breathe free air again.”

“No,” I growl.  “With all due respect, sir, we are
not
closing.  We wait until after Willa is found.”

“Drake,” he starts.

“We need the Zephyrs’ connections, contacts, and their lack of morals to find my woman.  Things stay as they are,” I demand.

The chief sighs.  “Fine. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Get Mason on it.  I want everything he can find on Miguel Sanchez.  Tell Dunlop to text me everything he has on the connection between the Zephyrs, Sanchez, and Gillian and David Burke.”  Mason is the resident computer whiz at our offices.  If there is a link, no matter how deep it is buried, Mason will find it.

“On it.  I’ll text you any details I find.  Keep in close contact with Dunlop.  Let’s get this shit sorted and finish this.”

I snap my phone shut and walk out of the derelict building I was standing in.  I climb on my bike, ride the short distance to the clubhouse, and march inside.

Rad is pacing the floor in front of the boys.  Sweat drips down his face and he looks as stressed out as I feel.

“I want everyone on it.  I don’t care if you have prior commitments, everything gets shelved until we find my sister.  And I want that prick, Miguel brought back alive.”

“Gonna skin him alive?” one of the brothers chuckles sardonically.

“Something like that,” Rad confirms.

“You get anything?” Rad asks, turning his attention to me.

“Not yet.  I asked some questions but none of her neighbors saw anything,”

“That’s just fuckin’ great,” Rad roars.

“Call Birdy.  Get him looking into it,” Prez says to Rad.  “Come on, boys, let’s ride out.  See if we can’t find something ourselves.”

Birdy is the club’s tech guy.  I doubt he’ll find anything Mason can’t, but it’s not like I can tell the boys I’ve already got the highest ranking FBI computer hack going through the motions.  I just hope between Mason, Birdy, and all of us we can find Willa before it’s too late.

As we walk out to the bikes, I pull Rad aside.  “Rad, man, you need to think back, remember every single little memory you have and try and recall if you ever had any encounters with Miguel when you were a kid.”

“I’m trying,” he grits out, his fists clenching.

“Calm the fuck down and concentrate.  Take a minute. Take a breath and fuckin’ think.”

He drops his head, closes his eyes, and thinks.

“I can’t fuckin’ think of anything, man.”

“Just concentrate.”

It takes him a few minutes but he finally recalls a memory involving Miguel.

“I was sick one day, home from school with the flu.  I was probably only six or seven.  Dad wasn’t around, can’t remember where he’d gone.  Mom had to run an errand, she told me.  But she couldn’t leave me at home alone, so she took me with her.  We drove to a derelict warehouse and she told me to wait outside while she took care of something inside.

“She said she wouldn’t be gone long.  I waited for what felt like forever, but was probably only half an hour.  When she didn’t return I crept up to the side of the building.  I remember being so conscious of trying not to cough because then they’d hear me.  I snuck through the doors and listened.  I could hear men talking, but I can’t remember what about.  I crept further in, hiding behind pallets of stuff, until I heard a woman’s voice…my mother’s.  At first, I remember thinking he was hurting her.  I was frozen in fear.  He had her up against the wall, his hand wrapped around her throat.  She wasn’t screaming in fear and pain, though.  She was moaning and crying out ‘
harder
.’

“They were fucking.  I know that now, but I didn’t know it then. I remember feeling so confused…” he trails off.

“Do you remember where the warehouse was?”

He shakes his head sadly.  “No.  We lived in Dale and we probably drove for fifteen minutes before we got to the warehouse. I don’t know which direction though.”

“Dale’s only about thirty minutes from here.  Let’s go see if we can find anything.”

I swing my leg over my bike, just as Prez comes over to us.

“Boys, we’re going to head on over to Big Fred’s and see if he knows anything.”

‘Big Fred’, aka Frederick Tumic, is another big time dickhead in the drug and sex trade industry.  He recently did a twelve-month stint in prison for charges ranging from distribution and possession to battery.  He got a reduced sentence on a technicality and now the fucker is back to his old tricks.

“We’re going to ride around the outskirts, see if we can find anything,” I tell him.

“Good idea.  Keep in contact.”

“Let’s ride.”  We start our bikes and they roar to life, the loud rumble echoing through the open compound.

Rad and I head east, toward Dale.  We ride side-by-side, both of us lost in our thoughts about Willa.  I scan the open landscape, looking for any buildings on the side of the road.  Each turnoff we pass, I check for recent activity, and I keep my eyes peeled for absolutely
anything
that looks suspicious, or that calls to me.  My intuition is sharp, and it is something I have relied heavily on during my time with the FBI, and especially since I joined the Zephyrs.  I pray it doesn’t let me down today.

Just outside the town limits, we slow and pull to a stop under the shade of a large roadside tree.

“We didn’t live here long, but if we head to our old house, I might be able to recall which way we drove.”

“Lead the way, man.”

We pull back out and I follow him until he stops outside a rundown, old weatherboard house.  It looks like it has been vacant for years.  Cobwebs mar the outside, giving it a haunted house look.  The grass is overgrown and dead, and all the windows along the front of the house are smashed, except one.

To my surprise, a woman stumbles out of the house.  She’s clearly drunk or off her face on drugs.  She looks over to us, her glazed eyes not focusing on anything in particular.  She looks up and down the street before turning around and wobbling back inside.

Fucking Christ! I’m beyond pissed, and so thankful that Willa and Rad’s parents are already dead, otherwise I would be likely to kill the useless pair myself.  What sort of parents brings their kids up in this kind of environment?  I grit my teeth and look over to Rad.  He is watching the house, lost in his own thoughts.

“Follow me,” he says, before riding off.

Fuck, I hope his memory doesn’t let him down.  We need to find her.  We have to. 

She has been gone at least three hours now.  Three fucking hours.  That’s a lifetime to be in the presence of the Devil himself.