Born to Ride_A Clubhouse Collection

chapter 22

Jason

F*ck! Scott, Griff and I had arrived at Madison’s work within half an hour of receiving her call, and she was nowhere to be f*cking found. The shop was locked and she didn’t answer the door, so Scott had broken the lock. She wasn’t there. And she wasn’t answering her god damn phone.

I raked my fingers through my hair. Where the f*ck could she be?

And then Griff voiced what we were all thinking. “Do we think Mandy came back for her?”

“I’ll f*cking kill that cunt if she touches Madison!” I roared, and turned to leave the empty shop.

“Brother, I’ll kill her even if she doesn’t,” Scott promised me, and I nodded at him in silent agreement.

Scott pulled out his phone and called Marcus to break the bad news to him. They came up with a plan of attack and we began our search for Madison.

Two hours later we still hadn’t located either of them. I was starting to feel desperate. Scott was beyond a state of rage. I don’t think he loved anyone as much as he loved his sister.

We arrived back at the clubhouse to regroup. All the boys were here now. Madison meant so much to all of them, and it was a somber mood that permeated the room.

Marcus took control. “I want every f*cking person tied up with that bitch to be grilled. One of them has to know where she is. Scott will coordinate,” he directed, and then left the room. I wasn’t sure where or what he was doing, and even though it was odd that he would leave us to do this on our own, it wasn’t my concern right now. Finding Madison was my only priority.

I got my directions off Scott and headed out. My first stop was only ten minutes from the clubhouse, and as I pulled up, my phone started ringing.

It was Brooke. “Hey, sis,” I answered, hoping she was okay.

She seemed nervous, “J, are you with Madison today?”

Unease hit me in the gut. “No. She got a visit from Nix’s crazy sister, and now we can’t find her. Why? Have you heard something?”

“I think she might be at Hyde’s.”

“What?” I struggled to make the connection.

Brooke sighed. “J, I think she’s been drinking. One of my friends just called me and suggested I get you down there to stop her.”

Unease slid right through me, and fury took its place.

“Thanks, I’m on my way now,” I bit out, and hung up.

I walked through the doors of Hyde’s pub ten minutes later, and the struggle of watching Madison lose herself to alcohol years ago mixed with the burning anger and resentment I still held towards my alcoholic mother, and I lost it.

She was wasted; no, beyond wasted. And, allowing a guy to have his hands on her.

I saw red. Stalking over to where she was, I ripped her away from him and got in her face. “What the f*ck are you doing?” I yelled at her.

The alcohol slowed her down. “J, honey, I was just telling him to take his hands off me, or else you’d kill him,” she slurred.

I met the dude’s eyes, “Get the f*ck out of here!” I roared, and he shrugged and left. Yeah, smart move motherf*cker.

“Thanks, baby,” she murmured, and leant in to me, rubbing her nose against my throat. F*ck, I was angry at her, and yet, my dick wanted her.

I pushed her off me. “I didn’t do that for you. I did that for him. Otherwise he would be f*cking dead.”

Shock hit her face. “Are you mad at me?”

Christ, she really was gone. And in no state to sit on the back of my bike, so I pulled out my phone to call for backup. “I am so f*cking mad at you right now, that it’s best if you don’t say another word,” I cautioned.

As I brought Scott up to speed on Madison’s whereabouts, she sidled back up to me, both her hands gripping my shirt. The smell of bourbon hit me in the face as she spoke. “Don’t be mad at me, J,” she slid one hand down to my crotch as she said this, and settled it on my dick, “Take me home and f*ck me.”

I abruptly ended my call, and then, I picked her up off the ground and settled her away from me. “Don’t f*cking test me, babe,” I seethed.

“Fine,” she pouted, and then started to walk towards the bar.

“Where the f*ck are you going?” I growled.

“None of your business,” she threw over her shoulder, not stopping.

Scott hit the room and made eye contact with me before looking at Madison. He was as angry as I was. She had worked damn hard to kick this habit, and to see her back here was f*cking devastating.

We both caught up with her at the same time. Scott was the first to talk. “It’s time to go,” he ordered.

She looked from him to me, and her eyes flashed annoyance. “No. I don’t want to leave. There’s too much shit out there, and I’d rather just stay here in my own little happy world.” She suddenly seemed sober.

“This is your happy f*cking place?” I asked, incredulous.

She turned on me. “Yes, J. I like it here. Don’t know why I f*cking left.”

Scott cut in. “Okay, you two, enough’s enough. We’re wastin’ time here arguing. You can do that at home,” he looked to me, “Just f*ckin’ carry her out of here and be done with it, brother.”

He was right, so I picked her up, threw her over my shoulder and stalked out of the pub. Scott had his Charger here, so I deposited her in it, ignoring her grumbling about it. “I’ll meet you back at my house,” I said to him, and headed to my bike.

I was relieved at this point that Scott was taking her home. The anger and disappointment swirling in my gut would have only led to further arguments with her if I had been in that car. I hoped the ride home would help me clear my head enough to be able to have a conversation with her, rather than a screaming match. Alcoholism was something I struggled to understand, and this didn’t bode well for us.