Page 6 of Next Level (Royal Bastards MC: Oakland Chapter #1)

TAKEN

S tanding in front of the mirror, I run a brush through my newly cut hair. It was a good thing Tam came on Sunday, otherwise, I’d be dealing with out-of-control hair. I’m at the house, freshening up. It’s Tuesday, so the club usually meets up at our local Mexican restaurant for Taco Tuesday.

My phone rings, and I see it’s Brooke. She never calls me during the week unless she needs money for something related to Sammie, and since I just saw her two days ago, I don’t know why she’d be calling me this soon.

“Hel—”

“Samantha is missing!” Brooke screams through the phone, cutting off my hello.

My heart stops.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s missing?” I growl.

I can’t breathe.

Brooke rants, “She was supposed to be home hours ago. I called Amanda, and she said she left a while ago.”

Not my girl.

“I’m on my way.” I hang up the phone and grab my bike keys.

I call Sam’s phone first, and it goes straight to voicemail, which it never does. My heart starts racing. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I call Zoom, who picks up on the first ring with one word, “Prez.”

“I need you to locate Sam. She’s missing. Her phone’s off too,” I demand.

“On it,” Zoom snaps back.

“I’m headed to Brooke’s. I’ll check back in,” I rush out.

Next, I call Dawg.

“Round up the boys and be on alert. Something’s up with Sam. Brooke said she’s missing. I’m headed there now.”

“Fuck. Okay. Do you want me to meet you over there?” Dawg asks, sounding worried.

“No, let me see what’s going on, and I’ll get back to you. I have Zoom tracking her. Just get everyone here. I’ll call if it’s nothing.”

I jump on the bike and fly over to Brooke’s in record time. When I pull up, there are two police cruisers in front of her house.

Fuck me.

My heart still hasn’t stopped racing.

Not my baby girl.

Before I reach the door, it swings open, and Brooke comes barreling out. I embrace her, comforting her as much as I can without losing my composure.

“Tell me what’s going on,” I say as calmly as I can. “Why the fuck are the cops here?”

When we enter the house, I find several people, along with the cops, sitting in the living room. I notice Amanda sitting there with her mom, crying.

“What’s going on?” I fire off, needing answers.

My worst fear is coming to life.

An officer approaches as I hand Brooke off to her husband, Mike, so that I can speak with the officer.

“It appears from the video we’ve obtained, your daughter was walking in the direction of her home when a gray Pontiac stopped next to her. The occupant of the vehicle engaged in a conversation with her, and then she got into the car. That’s all we know as of right now.”

I walk over to Amanda and snarl, “Who was it?”

People start to interject, but I hold up my hand.

Looking Amanda in the eye, I announce to the room, “I know she knows something. If Sam got in the car, she had to have known the person. My girl would never get in a stranger’s car, so who was it?”

The room is silent for a beat before an officer steps forward. “Mr. Amato, the girl gave us her statement. Let’s just wait and…”

I raise my hand without breaking eye contact with Amanda, shutting up the cop. I sit down across from her on the coffee table and say very slowly, “Amanda, was she talking to someone before she left your house? Were you two gaming?”

Amanda’s face cracks, and she blurts out, “It was Jared, I think. He was online talking to both of us, and he knew she was with me at my house.”

Everyone sounds shocked. I knew better. These two are thick as thieves.

I start my interrogation. “Does he know where you live?”

Amanda replies, shaking her head, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Do you know his last name?”

“No, just his gaming handle and his first name,” Amanda answers honestly.

A cop jumps in and asks, “Do you think she ran off with him?”

Amanda snaps her head to the cop. “No, never. She just met him in person for the first time on Saturday.”

The cop continues, “But your Ring recording clearly shows her getting into the car willingly.”

I turn to the cop. “Show me the video.”

Lucy, Amanda’s mom, walks over and pulls up a video. “When I saw this, I came right over.”

The recording isn’t of good quality. You can barely see Sam or who’s driving the car. Rage, pure rage, ignites inside me.

Someone took my girl.

I look at the cops. “What’s next?”

The cop starts to explain, “As of now, we’re treating it like a runaway. She’s a minor, so we will initiate our investigation. If she’s been missing for more than twenty-four hours, then we can file a missing person’s report.”

I hand Lucy her phone and walk out of the house. Leaving the cop to speak to Brooke and Mike.

Pulling out my phone, I call Zoom.

He answers on the first ring, and I bark into the phone, “You got her yet?”

“Not yet. The last ping from Sam’s phone was a few hours ago near Brooke’s house. What’s goin’ on?”

“I’ll catch everyone up when I get there. But in short, Samantha is missing, and we believe she was taken by a guy she games with named Jared. I’ll be on my way back to the clubhouse soon.”

I walk back inside as the cops are preparing to leave. Mike does most of the talking, and I stand there waiting. The cops say something to me and hand me a card, but I just nod, waiting for them to leave. Once they’re gone, I flip.

“Who fucking called the cops? AND. Why did you call the cops?” I practically scream at Brooke.

Mike steps forward. “I called them when I saw the video. I knew Samantha would never get into a stranger’s car. Something bad’s happened.”

Fuck.

I run my hands through my hair.

So many things are running through my mind.

Someone’s got my girl.

I want to scream and punch something.

“FUCK!” I shout out, looking up at the ceiling, trying to rein in my anger.

Taking a deep breath, I start snapping orders.

“I need to go back to my clubhouse. Lucy, please send me that video. When I’m gone, you all need to start canvassing house to house on the route she took, knocking on doors, and see if we can get anyone else’s home security videos.

And if you don’t, my club will, and you don’t want a bunch of scary motherfuckers knocking on doors demanding to see their videos.

I’ll have Zoom work on traffic cameras. ”

As he consoles Brooke, Mike speaks up. “We’ll get on that right away.”

Lucy chimes in next. “I’ll call her other friends and try to get help.”

When I reach the door to leave, I look back at Amanda and say, “Can you text me your login information also?”

After letting me know she will, I leave without saying goodbye.

Someone’s got my girl.

It’s been twenty-four hours, and we’ve all regrouped at the clubhouse, going over all the details we’ve found overnight.

Once I had returned to the clubhouse last night, I updated everyone on the situation.

I sent people out to search for her, checking all the places she might go if she indeed knew the person and was like on a date, but I knew better than that.

My girl would never turn off her phone. I stayed back and worked with Zoom, reaching out to our fellow clubs and associated groups to alert them to the situation.

The more people who know, the more eyes we would have looking for Sam.

“Having the cops involved sucks. You know they are watching us too. Why the fuck would he call the cops?” Chewy rants.

“Mike didn’t know. He freaked out and insisted on calling them,” I answer.

It’s not his fault. He’s not from this lifestyle, so he wouldn’t know.

“Um, you might want to check this,” Zoom announces across the clubroom.

I walk over and see a MISSING GIRL flyer on a social media platform.

“What the fuck?” I growl.

“Seems Mike and Brooke have posted flyers,” Zoom replies, flicking through all the different platforms.

I take out my phone and call Brooke.

“What the fuck, Brooke?” I demand once I hear her voice.

“Mike thinks with all our connections, we could get a lot of tips,” she pleads.

When I don’t say anything, she continues, “We printed them so we could hand them out along the route she takes from Amanda’s. We left your number and email for them to send you any information.”

Christ.

I stay silent. I don’t want to flip out, so I take a few deep breaths.

“Brooke,” I say through clenched teeth.

“No, Ray. You listen to me. You saw how the cops looked at us as if Samantha had run away. You know she didn’t. We need all the help we can get. So what if we make it public? You do you, and we’ll keep reaching out to people.” Brooke’s voice was stern and surprisingly in control.

My heart ached. I know Brooke is freaking out just as much as I am, so I’m going to let her do what she feels she can while I do what I do.

Regardless, we’re getting my Sammie girl back.

“Okay. Brooke. Let’s work both sides and get our girl back,” I say calmly.

She lets out a deep sigh and says, “Thank you. Bring our girl home.”

“I’ll bring our girl home.”

“Promise?” Brooke whispers.

“I promise on my life,” I declare.

When I hang up, I look at all my members sitting around the table, listening and waiting for me to give them orders.

What can we lose?

This isn’t club business.

This is my daughter.

“Fuck it, share that shit on all platforms. Get the word out. Lazy, could you please call the Oakland PD and see if they have any leads on obtaining the traffic cameras for us? Let’s make them think we’re working with them.

I don’t want to put all of this on Zoom.

Chewy, contact all our surrounding chapters and give them the flyer Mike made with all the details, including the description of the car, and get everyone on this. ”

The room starts to come alive with the brothers grabbing their phones. Usually, there’s no phones allowed in here, but this is an exception because it’s not club business—this is personal.

I continue talking, “Oakland is the hub for multiple highways. We need to try to figure out which way they went. Dawg and I have been trying to monitor Sam’s gaming login, but I need someone to be on it 24/7.

See if you can contact this Jared guy through that.

Let’s try to communicate with him that way.

The girls said they met him in person at the car show.

Let’s tap into that to see if we can obtain a photo ID of the guy and determine if he’s affiliated with anyone.

I know we don’t have beef with anyone right now, but we need to make sure this isn’t a backlash from the club. ”

I sit down at the head of the table, placing my elbows on the edge. I run my hands through my hair, gripping my head.

“Someone’s got my girl. Let’s find the fucker before the cops do,” I say it out loud more to myself, but also to whoever is still in the room.

Chewy speaks up. “We should hit the surrounding cities with the flyers too. Flyer the shit out of this area, and social media might get us some tips. The more shares, the better. That way, at least we’re getting the tips instead of the cops.”

I hear men agreeing, and I nod my head.

“Let’s do it.”