Page 53 of Creep (Vulture Hollow MC #2)

Creed

Do I know for sure that Domino snatched Angel? No. But do I feel certain of it down to the marrow of my bones? Absolutely.

He looked like shit at the club meet. Pupils blown, bruised face, and I swear the blood on his knuckles seemed fresh.

I was ready to rip him to shreds in front of everyone just based on my hunch.

And yet, I had to ignore my nature and wait.

At least I wasn’t expected to talk. Prophet handled that part.

Even the pretense under which we had this urgent meeting went over my head because I was too busy analyzing every minute detail about Domino.

Now I’m on the road, following him at a distance, and fortunately he makes that easy thanks to his bike being so loud and obnoxious. I’ve got a tracker on me, so my brothers can catch up later. All of them wouldn’t be able to stay stealthy, and I swear, if anyone blows my cover, I will rage.

I’d attempt sneaking up on him, grabbing him, then torturing the information out, but there’s too many variables involved in such a plan.

Domino is lodged far in the closet, he might not tell me shit, and if Angel is held somewhere with no way out, he could end up dead by the time I find him.

I can’t risk that. I can only hope Domino will lead me straight to him.

I fall back, because even this meathead might have enough brains left to notice he’s being followed, but I choose the right direction at crossroads each time, simply following the farting of his bike.

We’ve ventured away from all the towns I know, deeper into the forested areas, and I don’t know what to expect.

Does Domino have a cabin out here? Or did he just claim some old house or…

cave? That’s what I did, and I wouldn’t put it past him either.

My heart flutters when the hum ahead dies, and I kill my own engine.

The last of the day’s sun floods the area with red light from a clearing up ahead, so I slide off my lightweight bike and run, propelling it with me.

I leave it where the tunnel of trees ends and slide into the bushes, eyes fixed on the bright light.

I blink to adjust my vision and peer through the leaves to see vegetation reclaiming an area that must have previously been cleared of trees.

Beyond it, on the background of a rocky hill is a huge wooden structure.

It must have been abandoned years ago, since the facade is deteriorating, and I even spot holes in the roof, but it still stands, its mouth wide open for shipments of whatever product used to be processed here.

Domino is already off his bike, and I want to run there, choke him to death and make sure Angel is safe, but I have to keep my cool when I stalk closer to the factory that seems to be a home for rust and mold.

When I see him venture inside, I move faster, dash out of the bushes and then sneak along the shadows cast by the wall.

My mind is messing with me because I swear I smell blood, and that’s impossible.

I want to follow him inside, my heart beating like mad, but I hear locks closing, and when I reach the heavy door through which he entered, it’s like facing a steel wall.

This door isn’t some rotting wood I could crack with a few well-positioned kicks.

It’s new, it’s sturdy, and fitted with a lock I don’t know how to pick.

I put my ear against it, but all the noise I hear is muffled.

How deep does the rabbit hole go? And if Angel is in there, Domino could kill him if provoked.

I’ve known him for long enough to bank on that.

The man would kill Angel even just to spite me, so no one else could have him.

If I go about this rescue mission incorrectly, a split second will stand between Angel and death.

If he’s in there, of course. I swear he must be—

The proof I needed is resting in the dirt. A part of me hoped I was wrong. I would have died of heartache if Angel really did ghost me, but I would have preferred that to him suffering at Domino’s hand.

There is no more place for delusion when I pick up the patch with my nickname. It has been ripped off so roughly a piece of leather is still attached to it. It’s from Angel’s property vest.

He must be inside.

I can’t just barge in there, shoot the lock or something. But could noise lure Domino out? Could I shoot at his bike? Try to get his number from Prophet and call him?

Were Angel’s life not on the line, those would all be valid options, but nothing matters more than saving my boy. If Angel dies here, Domino might as well shoot me too.

I step away from the building and take it in. Only the base of the structure is made of brick, and a brief survey of the locked entrance tells me it leads underground, so I make my way around the factory, finally spotting a tiny window where foundations meet soil.

My heart is racing against time remaining until Angel might get seriously hurt, but I’ll achieve nothing if I set off the alarms in Domino’s head.

Instead of knocking on the window or shoving my entire face against the dusty glass, I lower my body and peek in through the brown-and-gray film created by years of neglect.

I can barely see a couple of shadows. They look like storage shelves piled with all kinds of items, but I can’t see anything beyond them.

Frustrated, I cover my hand with the sleeve of my jacket and rub it against the glass. I’m relieved when some of the dirt crust thins, revealing the basement. I swear I see movement, so it’s not impossible Angel and Domino are right there, beyond this tiny window.

“What are we doing?” someone whispers right behind me, and I have to bite my tongue, but a split second later my brain understands the voice I’m hearing belongs to Rooster.

I turn to him, eyes wide and put a finger to my lips, but I have to give it to Rooster that he approached me silently.

I gather my thoughts, trying to work out how to make use of my ally when Angel’s voice reaches me like the cry of a canary deep in the mine.

He’s screaming. Needs my help. He’s all alone with this madman, and I need to act now.

Domino could be hurting Angel at this very moment.

I can’t waste time and wait until everyone else arrives.

Rooster’s face is shadowed by the growing darkness, but I still see none of the usual cockiness in his expression. He must have heard the scream as well.

“I’m going in. You stay here as backup in case he tries to flee through the door.”

Rooster frowns, but I have no time for his issues with my plan when I envision the despicable things Domino could be doing to Angel.

I grab a large rock resting close by and smash it into the glass.

My skin prickles where some shards cut in, but I don’t care and move the smooth stone along the circumference of the window, knocking out the remaining glass.

Now I see the massive basement clearly, but there’s no trace of Angel or Domino.

Still, I slide in, one arm stretched forward and dive into the cool, moldy air.

The old lightbulbs provide additional illumination but also create deep shadows resembling beasts about to creep out the moment I look away.

My pulse thuds in my ears, a warning that I’ve not heard my boy’s voice since that initial scream.

I swallow a curse when my shoulder hits the window frame.

I twist, licking sweat off my upper lip when wood digs into the armpit on the other side of my body.

This is where I’m the widest, so if my shoulders pass through, I’ll be in the clear, but while there must be a solution, it won’t come to me while my mind remains knotted with worry for Angel.

“Do you want me to push…?” Rooster whispers.

I’m sweating, sick to my stomach with worry about Angel’s safety, and I can’t stop blaming myself.

I should have caught up with Domino sooner, accosted him at the door, never let him get his hands on Angel in the first place.

I should have ignored Angel’s pleading and killed the bastard yesterday.

But I can’t take back time, so I wiggle in the tiny window like a fat maggot.

I’ve got experience from the years I spent roaming the tunnels around my chamber in the caves, so I know when a crevice is too narrow, but this fucking window has no right to be, because I need to get in there.

A choked cry comes from an open doorway across from me, and the time for self-flagellation is over.

I know what to do.

I back out for half a second and stare into Rooster’s eyes. “Yes. Push. Push hard.”

I slide one arm in, then my head, and press my shoulder against the wall where it can’t fit. When Rooster pushes, I’m ready.

Wood digs into flesh, and I don’t try to prevent the inevitable pain clawing into me as my shoulder dislocates.

I bite my tongue to keep from screaming, but the agony is worth it.

I slide through the window so fast I have to make the last-minute decision to roll in order to avoid falling on my head.

Everything hurts, but I bear it and shove at my arm, trying to force it back in place.

It’s agonizing, and I taste blood, but the third push does the trick.

“I’m right behind you,” Rooster whispers, but I can’t hear him clearly. It must be the blood buzzing in my head.

I turn to him and shake my head with a scowl. I will not give him a second more of my time.

The world trembles around me, but now that I’m inside, the sounds of a struggle come from the door ahead, and I follow them, right hand tight on the handle of my dagger. I have a gun, but using it could be too risky in close quarters with Angel here.