On my way past their shopping cart from the opposite direction, I find and carefully pull out a needle partially hidden under an end cap. A tranquilizer or two would be enough to take Axe down. Jett has pulled so much crap that I wouldn’t put it past him to have gone to this extreme. He blew up my ride, for fuck’s sake.
So where did he take them and why would he bother to carry an unconscious Axe with him if he only wants Molly?
I take a look at the time. It has been eight minutes since I called 911. I need to disappear. Carefully pocketing the syringe, I hurry back to the truck, roll Axe’s bike on the truck bed, and head to the clubhouse.
Finding and rescuing Molly and Axe will take all the help we can gather up.
Chapter 15
Tate
“We got any clues yet?” I hover near the TV in our executive meeting room as Cole replays the surveillance video for the umpteenth time.
“No, not since the last time you asked two minutes ago.” Cole doesn’t budge from the digital screen. He’s scanning frame by frame for any sign of what Jett might’ve done to Molly and Axe, and where he may have taken them. Silas excused himself to contact the Baton Rouge Charter of the Satan’s Saints MC. The president over there must know something. Even the make and model of the vehicle Jett drives will help.
The tape shows Molly and Axe entering the grocery store and walking the aisles for a few minutes. They were moving toward the cashier when Jett snuck into the store from the back. He jammed a syringe into Axe’s neck from behind. Axe dropped like a sack of potatoes. Molly tried to get away, but Jett forced her to leave with him at gunpoint, then came back and dragged Axe away while he was still unconscious.
There are no other details in the video frames. No license plate number. No accomplices. Nothing.
We’ve been slogging through the security footage, going over every move, for at least an hour. Dean phones around to our local and mobile contacts. If Jett is still in the area now, we’ll figure it out through our network. We’re working every angle, but progress isn’t happening fast enough. I keep thinking about what Jett can be doing to them right now.
“Tate.” I jerk my head up and look at Silas. “Save that fuck ton of rage for when we find this asshole. Keep your shit on lockdown until then. Those knives you like to pull out are sharp and double-edged, you feel me?” Silas motions at me and I glance down at my bowie knives, the sharp tips already digging rivulets into the conference table without my intending them to.
“Shit. Yeah, I’ll get a handle on it. Sorry, boss.”
“It’s all good, man. I get it.”
I go back to the map I started looking at and ask Silas what he found out from the Baton Rouge president.
“I got nada. Jett’s been MIA for weeks, off the grid and AWOL. His membership is revoked. We’ll find him, Tate. The longer he stays in this area, the more likely our people will see him. You can bet your life on it. She’ll be fine.”
Silas knows what’s on the line for me. As we recheck the video, my phone rings on the other side of the table. I reach for it in a panic and take the call from the unknown number.
“Yes?” I bark out my answer in a clipped breath.
“Hello? Tate? Is…is…that you?”
“Molly?” I breathe a sigh of relief at the sound of her shaky voice which is very much alive. All my brothers in the room stop what they’re doing and turn to listen. I want to ask her everything but I need to know what happened. “Are you okay? Where are you? We’ll come for you, just hang in—”
“Tate, I need you to listen to me. Listen for a second.”
“Go ahead.”
“I’m with Jett. We’re in a warehouse, the address is three-seventy-one Persimmona Place, about fifty minutes southwest of the grocery store where we were taken. I’m fine. He hasn’t touched me. Axe isn’t doing too well.” She sniffles and shouts, “I said I’m sorry!”
I know that part isn’t for me. It’s too muffled. Jett is watching and listening to her, controlling what she says.
“Don’t do anything stupid. Please. Just come to the warehouse as soon as possible, alone.”