Page 110 of Caution to the Wind

I’d left her in an unsafe place without thinkin’ ’cause I was throwin’ a fuckin’ tantrum over an eight-year-old betrayal. What kinda man was I to leave her undefended behind a broken door?

Granted, Mei was probably the most dangerous woman I knew discountin’ Tempest, who could hit a movin’ target from twenty yards away with any kinda firearm. But it wasn’t good enough.

Someone had taken Mei, and it felt palpably, woefully like my fuckin’ fault.

What if they found her days later in a field, half dead, split open by a knife, broken in more than just bones…

I sucked in such a deep breath it ached in my lungs, forcin’ myself to do the 4-7-8 technique they’d taught me in the military to calm the fuck down before I had a damn panic attack.

This was not the same situation as Cleo.

Even logically knowin’ that, my heart was a sick, rottin’ thing in my chest as I searched the room and found a dirty boot print on one of Mei’s sketches strewn on the carpet. It was big enough to be a man’s foot.

I called Bat, instead of Zeus, on autopilot. Bat’d been there through me through war, through Kate dyin’. He was always the first brother I’d call.

“Brother,” he answered, voice rough with sleep but instantly alert.

“Someone got to Mei.”

Readin’ the panic buried in too shallow a grave in my chest, Bat cursed softly. “You at Purgatory?”

“Yeah. Gonna have a look around, but she could be anywhere.”

“Right.” There was a voice in the background I didn’t listen to very closely. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

“The roads are empty. Make it fifteen.”

“Fifteen,” he agreed, before ringin’ off.

I knew he’d make some calls himself and turned my mind to searchin’ the rest of the motel. Startin’ with the person behind the flickerin’ curtain at reception.

This time, I let my boots pound against the metal stair treads so they knew I was comin’. When I pushed open the door to reception, and it smacked into the opposite wall, the man behind the desk was already cowerin’ behind it.

“Get up,” I demanded, stalkin’ forward with my gun held loosely in one hand.

I used the other to wrap around his shirt collar and drag him half up over the desk. He made a noise of distress, arms flailin’ as he thought about tryin’ to pry my hands off and then decided compliance was best.

Maybe he was smarter than I’d given him credit for.

“Who was here tonight?”

“I don’t know. I don’t fuckin’ watch the comings and goings. Got better things to do.”

Then again, maybe he was a fuckin’ idiot.

I looked at the small TV playin’ oldDegrassireruns and arched my brows. “Sure, ya do. Now, tell me who rolled up in the last two hours.”

“It’s a free world!”

“This shithole is on the Sea to Sky Highway, so no, it’s not a fuckin’ free world,” I hissed at him, draggin’ him up by the shirt to sneer down into his face. “It’s The Fallen MC’s world, and you know who makes the rules in it? Motherfuckin’me. So start talkin’, or I’ll show you why they call me Axe-Man.”

“Fuck,” he spat. “Knew I shoulda taken the job at Evergreen Gas instead.”

My laughter was a bark. Cressida had been abducted from that same place years ago, and it was a popular spot of conflict on the sex, drug, and human trafficking routes up and down the province.

“Too late. Now, talk.”

“Some Asian guy came before you in a fancy Merc, then I heard your Harley before I saw you. Wasn’t until an hour or so after you left that they came.”