She lets out of heavy sigh and nods her head. “Let me go find your uncle Jim, and you can tell him what you heard. That way we’re not interfering with club business. I just have to find them first.”
Every minute that passes is one minute closer to catastrophe where Rig and Daniel are betraying my family. I know Ruby wants to believe the best of Rig, but I’m not nuts and I’m not a liar.
“Never mind!” I shout. I don’t know what I expected from her, but it wasn’t that.
Now more desperate than anything, I scope out the backyard looking for somebody, anybody that I think will listen to me. Off by the red barn, Jeremy stands beside Rink and Dunce, who have a couple of joints they’re passing around a much larger crowd.
When I approach, Jeremy’s attention is completely on me. I take immediate advantage of that and say loudly, “I need your help. It’s important.”
“With what?” Jeremy snaps. His attitude fucking sucks, and if I didn’t need him so badly right now, I wouldn’t even deal with his shit. But I do. I have no idea where my dad is, and Aunt Ruby was really no help at all.
Walking up to him, I place my hand on his lower back, close to the handgun he keeps tucked there. “It’s important, and it’s private. Please stop being such a dick,” I say quietly. Okay, so that didn’t come out exactly as I had planned.
“Giving the boy his balls back?” Dunce says with a smirk.
I narrow my eyes at him and flip him the bird. He’s a fucking prospect, not a patched brother, and doesn’t have shit over me. Unfortunately, he keeps forgetting his rank.
“Check your attitude, Cheyenne,” he says in a dismissive tone. His eyes cut to the men around him like he’s looking for approval or something. “Need to learn your place, babe.”
Frustration builds, my hands shake at my sides, and I suck in an unsteady breath. Everybody’s being so freaking difficult about helping me, and it’s not something that I can shout out to the masses. Discretion, even with rowdy bikers, is important. I force my hands to steady and take a deep breath, telling myself all the while that I need to play nice.
“It’s about Michael,” I whisper-shout in Jeremy’s ear.
His eyes grow wide and he nods, immediately turning and pulling me aside, out of earshot of everybody else.
“What’s going on?”
“Rig and Daniel are about to take Michael from Ian’s and give him to Scavo,” I say in a frantic rush as low as I can.
“Rig?” Jeremy questions in disbelief. “He’s Detroit’s president.”
“I didn’t want to believe it either, but I know what I heard.”
“Fuck. There’s no way you could be wrong?” He kicks into the dirt below his feet.
“No,” I say firmly. I wouldn’t be here right now if there was a chance I was wrong.
Jeremy nods and pulls out his cell, dials my dad’s number, and brings it up to his ear, waiting for him to answer. He groans, his eyes darting from Ruby and Jim’s house to the tree line that hides Ian’s cabin. His eyes travel across the property, eventually landing on Rig, who stands with a beer to his lips, talking to Uncle Jim near the tiny pond adjacent to the barn.
By the third ring, Jeremy’s clearly lost his patience. With his eyes constantly darting to Rig and Jim, he takes off toward the trees, mindful of his speed. So far it seems as though Rig hasn’t seen us. His attention is elsewhere for the moment, and I can only hope it stays that way.
When Dad answers the phone, Jeremy says quickly, “They’re about to jailbreak Junior.” Pause. “Right now.” Another pause. “Chey overheard Rig and Daniel.” Then he’s off the phone and moving faster to the tree line.
I follow Jeremy, picking up my pace to catch up with him, but my movements are too slow—they catch Rig’s attention. He lowers the beer, gives Jim a nod, and turns his entire body toward me, walking away from their conversation. Rig pulls his phone from his pocket, types a short message, and then shoves it back in his pocket. He takes another drink from the bottle in his hand and then slowly walks back toward the house. Jim eyes him carefully before answering his phone. I can’t tell if he says anything or just listens for the few seconds he’s on the call. Then he hangs up and observes me and Jeremy as we nervously head for the trees.
Jeremy stops, but we’re moving so fast that I don’t notice until it’s too late and I’ve slammed into his back. His eyes are affixed in the direction of the house. He sucks in a breath and mutters, “Shit.”