Page 59 of Single Mom's Biker Brigade
“Where’s Cody?” Callie skidded to a stop in the middle of everything, her body twisting toward the house.
“He’s watching TV. I found a how-its-made video. We were watching it together when I saw Diesel walking around your car.” Colt stalked over to Diesel. “What did you find?”
“Tracker.” Diesel brushed dust from his knees. “I can’t reach it. Need someone skinnier.”
Colt dropped onto his back and shoved half his body beneath the car.
Diesel stood with his arms crossed and his face a flat, blank mask to anyone who couldn’t read the absolute fury in his eyes. He raised his head to stare at the gate, then the road and the fence surrounding the property. “They must have put it on the car before the fire. They wanted to know where she’d go.”
“Fucking assholes. Motherfucking bastards.” The curses continued as he wiggled his way free, slamming his palms on the ground as he stood. He held out a tiny black box.
I took it from his palm. Small and flat, with a magnetic backing and covered in road grime that told us it had been on the car longenough to collect dust. “Any way to tell how long?” I handed the tracker to Diesel, who raised one shoulder.
“I can try. Not much to learn from this kind. They create a map like a GPS, so depending how long it’s been there, they might have used this to figure out Callie’s routine.”
Colt slammed both palms on the trunk of Callie’s car. “They’ve been watching my kid.”
Callie turned toward the house as the sound of Cody’s laughter trickled out in childish glee.
18
COLT
I walked into the house and closed the door behind me like nothing happened.
Cody looked up from the couch. “Where’d you go?”
“Helping Diesel with something.” I dropped onto the couch beside him and picked up the toy car he’d abandoned on the armrest. The beat up red car wobbled when I rolled it across the worn couch. “What’s this one?” I’d taught him all our names and he’d shown me the car collection he’d managed to bring with him from the garage thanks to the fact he kept a couple toy cars in his pockets at all times.
“Dodge Charger.” He took the car with a snatch and grab that would’ve given Callie a fit and showed he didn’t like to share. “The wheel’s broken.”
“I can fix it.” I held out my hand, offering the chance to trust me. He’d spent all day with me, and I’d learned more about him in a day than I had about Callie in the months we’d been together. He remained tight-lipped about his mom but nothing about him seemed to be off limits.
And he’d mastered Callie’s disbelieving look. “Mom already tried.”
“Maybe I’m better than your mom at fixing wheels.”
“No one is better than Mom.” Cody crossed his arms and tucked his body into the corner of the couch.
Ouch. Okay. So definitely don’t try to one up Callie. “I didn’t mean it like that. Your mom is incredible. I’ve never seen anyone as capable as her. I just thought maybe I have a tool she doesn’t.” I pulled a tiny screwdriver from my pocket and held it out. “Can I at least look at it?”
He eyed me with a slick side eye, then turned his full attention to me. Hell. I’d faced judges who didn’t make me squirm as much as this kid.
Cody’s gaze skipped over my face, then to the car in his hand. He held it out. “I get to watch the whole time.”
“No doubt. This must be an important car.” I took the car and turned it over, focusing on the wheel and not the image of the tracker I’d had in my palm twenty minutes ago. Someone had put their hands on Callie’s car. They’d stood close enough to crouch down and place that underneath. It could have happened anytime. While she worked. Or at the grocery store. I popped the wheel off and reset the axle pin. Don’t think about that. Think about Cody. About keeping him safe. I put the wheel back on and held it out to my son. “Try it now.”
He rolled it across the couch cushion. The wheel held and it no longer wobbled. His eyes dropped, along with his shoulders. “You did it.”
“Only because your mom has been working on it so many times already. I never would have figured it out otherwise. That’s how teams work, right? Like Batman and Robin.”
“And Alfred.” The quiver in his chin settled, and he managed a smile that didn’t shake. “Diesel reminds me of Alfred. He’s all grumpy.”
I couldn’t help it. A laugh shot out sharp and fast.
“Don’t tell him I said that.” Cody’s eyes widened.
“Diesel would take it as a compliment. Trust me.” No one compared Diesel to anyone of note, and especially not a man as good as Alfred. Careful and protective might as well be stamped across his chest.
