“Track his mobile,” I say. Zander, Amber’s fourteen-year-old son and my pseudo nephew, isn’t exactly a hardcore criminal, though he’s got a juvie rap sheet for a few smalltime offenses. This isn’t the first time the kid’s up and disappeared only to return safe and sound when he damn well pleased.
“Already tried that. There’s no signal, so either the phone ran out of battery or he turned it off. I’m going to kill this fucking kid.” Her voice is steady and her words come out clearly. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve known her for, I’m always taken aback by Amber’s ability to stay calm regardless of what’s going on—with one exception. The only person I’ve ever known to be able to make her lose her shit is Zander’s father. She’s a tough broad—she’s had to be, and I get it—but Zander’s put her through the ringer time and time again. I think I’d have given up on the kid by now, but that’s not Amber’s MO. No, she just gets ice-cold pissed and then lays waste to anything that gets in her way. Like now. At this moment, she’s probably got her entire arsenal cleaned, loaded, and ready to fire in front of her. And I wish I were joking, but scaring the shit out of Zander is the only thing that works. At least for a little while.
“Anything I can do?” My voice is getting soft, showing my vulnerability. I don’t like it, but this is what happens when you care about people. They worm their way past the hard exterior and realize that the hard-ass they always see is only part of who I am. I was just a kid when I met Amber. She was already Wyatt’s old lady and pregnant with Z when they came out to visit from Detroit. She wasn’t much older than me and scared out of her mind. She left California before giving birth and didn’t come back until her dad retired out here. By that time Zander was a toddler, and even though I’m not much for kids, there was just something about him that I liked. And even now, when I’m half ready to beat his ass, there’s still something about him that I like. Like all club kids, he’s got his issues with authority, but underneath all the bullshit, he’s just a teenage boy who wants to be like his dad. And even though he’s never met the man, he’s so much like him, it’s unnerving.
“Nah. The boys know he’s MIA and, if they see him, to return him to me,” she says. Of course Detroit knows Z’s gone AWOL again. No charter would dare ignore the disappearance of Forsaken’s founding president’s great-grandson and the California Nomad charter president’s grandson. Hell, with the way bodies are dropping in Fort Bragg, his dad’s moving that direction quicker than expected. So even if Amber wasn’t born with a dick and therefore isn’t a brother, she’s club royalty and so are her kids. Back when we were younger, a hang-around got shot for looking at her wrong. I can only imagine what kind of hell she’d bring upon anyone who dared ignore her when it comes to the safety of her kids.
A loud and furious banging sounds on my front door, scaring me half to death. I’m totally off my game lately, and I don’t like it.
“Gotta go. You need anything you call me.” I end the call and then toss the phone on the sofa.
It takes me longer than it should to pull out the piece I keep under my center couch cushion and make to the door to put my eye to the peep hole. There’s nothing to see, but someone is certainly on the other side. Whoever the stupid fuck is has their hand covering the hole. Instinctively, I click off the safety and mentally prepare myself to put a bullet in this asshole. There’s zero reason for anybody to be knocking on my door unless they’re here to take me out or to lecture me, and I’m interested in neither today.
The banging stops. I take a step away from the door and remind myself that California has some seriously sucky laws when it comes to shooting people. I really need to move. Texas maybe. You can shoot people there.
The deadbolt lock flips from one direction to the other, signaling that the door is now unlocked. Inside, I’m panicking a little. But I don’t let that show. I have far too much training and firepower to freak out. So I take a deep breath and take another step back.
“Put down the gun, babe. It’s Diesel.”