Page 57 of Sabre’s Guard

“Fuckin’ too right, Prez. They slashed my tires so I couldn’t follow them.”

“You’re a member of the Savage Legion. They didn’t need to be half-smart to know you’d run them down if you got half a chance.”

“I need to pick up Noah from school because they might be targeting him too.”

Siege responds, “I’ve got brothers and prospects comin’ your way. Grab one of the prospects’ bikes, pick up the kid and bring him to the clubhouse. He’ll be safe here.”

“I know he will, but I’ve got to get my old lady back before those unhinged fucks do somethin’ to her.”

“Don’t worry, brother. We’ll get her back. I fuckin’ promise you that.”

“This is my fault. I thought if there was gonna be danger it’d be inside the diner. I checked the parking lot. Shit. I shoulda known her asshole of a father would do somethin’ like this.”

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty. You did what you thought was right. You couldn’t have foreseen this.”

It’s nice of Siege to try to cheer me up but it ain’t working. “Thanks for saying so, Prez. I still should have considered it.” I pause and get my head straight. Getting onto the practical stuff I say, “I’m gonna need a tow truck for Linsey’s car and a pickup because they disabled my bike.”

“Her father’s a sneaky fucker for a religious man, wouldn’t you say?”

“Maybe,” I grudgingly acknowledge. I can hear other messages dinging on my phone, but nothing can be more important than getting my old lady, so I don’t bother looking.

Siege’s old lady says something in the background. Siege speaks again, his voice more serious. “Cleo says they’re calling for early pickup at the school. Someone pulled the fire alarm, and it set off the fire suppressant system, drenchin’ every fuckin’ thing in water. I’m sure that’s a fuckin’ coincidence, right?”

“Normally, I’d say yes. But I think we’ve been underestimatin’ these fuckers for far too long.”

“I’ll send someone to check it out,” Siege promises. “You’d best get there as soon as you can, brother.”

“I will. I can hear the brothers’ bikes in the distance. I’m gonna get off here and gather my old lady’s stuff before they get here.”

“I’ll gather the officers and we’ll be waitin’ on you to get here with the kid.”

When the phone goes blank, I start picking up Linsey’s stuff and putting it back into her purse.

That’s when I notice an open pregnancy test kit box. A test strip has slipped partially out of the open end. My old lady took a pregnancy test and saved the strip. Deep down inside, on a visceral fuckin’ level, I know that can only mean one thing.

I reach out and shake it the rest of the way from the box and flip it over. Two pink lines are staring up at me. For several seconds, I stare at it as my brain slowly comes to terms with the fact that my old lady is pregnant with my child. All the oddities from the last few weeks rush through my mind. She’s thrown up several times that I know of and blamed it on different things.

This morning, she stood beside the breakfast table looking all nervous and excited. I didn’t understand what was going on but now I do. She was going to tell me before her mother called and spoiled the moment for us. I can see that now.

I can’t feel the joy of this moment, not while my old lady and unborn child are in danger like this. My hand closes around the test strip, and I make a vow to not only get them back but make the bastards who took her pay for putting their hands on her, and terrorizing her, especially while she’s in such a delicate condition.

My phone vibrates in my pocket dragging me out of my thoughts. I pull it back out and scroll through the messages. There’s a notification from the school that school is dismissed early because of water damage. Another message from Linsey’s aunt saying she’s going to pick Noah up because she’s nearby shopping.

Damn.

Normally I’d be happy knowing he was safe, but now I know what her father is up, to I’ve got a bad feeling about everything.

Sure enough, when I get to the last message, the one that just caused me to pull out my phone, it’s from Noah. He forwarded a message thread and a photograph. I open them in the parking lot while police sirens and my club brothers’ bikes grow louder from the distance. The photograph shows Linsey inside the van with her wrists bound in front of her. Her hair is tangled, likely from fighting her abductors. And her brown eyes are filled with a mixture of rage and fear. I don’t even have words to describe how seeing that fuckin’ image makes me feel. I save it as proof of life and force down the raw fury that threatens to overwhelm me.

The message he forwarded came from an unknown number.

WE HAVE YOUR MOTHER. A CAR IS COMING FOR YOU. WALK OUT THE SIDE DOOR ALONE AND GET IN. TELL NO ONE OR YOU WILL NEVER SEE HER ALIVE AGAIN. YOU HAVE FIVE MINUTES.

There’s a message from Noah too:

They have Mom. They said I have to get in the car or they’ll kill her. I’ll take care of Mom until you get there. Come find us. I know you will.

He sent it two minutes ago. I’m still reading it when my phone rings. Carol is crying so hard that it takes several minutes to piece together what happened. The general gist of it is she went to pick him up from school but somewhere amongst the chaos and confusion of the emergency pickup, Noah slipped away.