Guess I didn’t have the iron-willed control like I thought was the last thing I thought before a seething blind rage clouded over my eyes, and the only thing I saw was a broken Sawyer being violated by the pervert in front of me.
And although I went down hard as Shovel’s lead pipe came down on the temple of my head, arms still tied above my head, I took pride in the fact that the man standing in front of me now had a knife wound in his heart courtesy of the one that slid out of my boot.
“Ohh,” Shovel said, shaking his head. “That was very, very stupid.”
Head pounding and the only thing holding me up was the rope around my wrists, I said, “Yeah, yeah, motherfucker.”
The last thing I heard before I succumbed to unconsciousness was, “Tie his fuckin’ feet.”
***
Sawyer
“I have this note…” I said, handing Sebastian the note.
His brother Sam was in the room with him, and they were both staring at Silas’ table with all of Silas’ open cases laid out in front of them.
Sam and Sebastian looked up, their eyes so much like their father’s that my heart ached a little bit.
“What note?” Sam snapped.
I held it out to him.
“What is it?” He asked, eyes scanning it quickly.
“Well, the other day when Silas and I were in bed…”
“Is what you’re saying pertinent to what we’re going through right now, or can we skip the life story?” Sam snapped.
I narrowed my eyes at him, but it was Cheyenne who set him straight.
“Sam, I realize you’re worried, but being a dick to the woman isn’t going to help. Get the fuck over it and let her speak,” Cheyenne growled at her husband.
Sam’s eyes closed, and when they opened again I realized that he really was worried, and covering his worry up with a bad attitude.
Just like his father did.
“Go on. I’m sorry,” he said gruffly.
I shrugged. “Anyway, we were talking about gambling for some reason, and it kind of escalated to whether we actually had any ‘bookies’ in the area. When he said yes, I asked him to tell me where I could find one, jokingly, in case I ever needed one. And he told me all I would have to do was to look forlorn while gambling at the poker table at The Horseshoe.”
Sebastian nodded. “Okay.”
“So it kept going from there, but I finally got a serious answer out of him that a bookie’s name in the area was ‘Black Jack.’ How a lot of people still owed him a ton of money and that he was a not man to cross. He said he’d seen Shovel nearly beaten to death over his gambling debts while he was cleaning up the club,” I explained. “When I asked him whether or not Shovel still owed this man money, he said that he did. And if Shovel was smart, he’d never come back here. Because this ‘Black Jack’ guy knows every low life in the city, and if he ever got wind that he was back, Black Jack would let his underground army know, and they’d find him in a heartbeat. And that’s what the note says.”
Sam’s eyes went to the note.
“21. Shovel. Horseshoe,” Sam read. “So what, he wants us to go to The Horseshoe’s black jack table and, what… ask for Black Jack?”
I nodded. “Yes, I think that’s exactly what he wants you to do.”
Sam shrugged, as did Sebastian.
“Ain’t got nothin’ else.”
***
Ninety minutes later, I was down to my last fingernail when the two men came back to the house after a quick trip to the Black Jack tables.
“You were right,” he said. “Old Black Jack was pretty happy to hear that Shovel was back in town. Apparently, not only does Shovel owe Black Jack money, but he’d also gotten kind of handsy with Black Jack’s wife years ago. He wants Shovel to know that he hasn’t forgotten.”
Ouch.
That sucked for Shovel.
But if it got me Silas, I didn’t care who it hurt in the process.
“And? Where’s Silas?” I asked worriedly.
Sebastian shook his head. “It’s gonna take some time, Sawyer.”
I wanted to yell, ‘Silas doesn’t have time!’ but I just barely managed to hold it in.
I knew they were both aware, just as much as I was, that he didn’t have a lot of time. Especially since he’d most likely had a motorcycle wreck before he fell into the hands of that man.
And I just knew it was Shovel that had him.
There was no other explanation for it.
I closed my eyes and thought about where Shovel might have taken them.
I came up with what I thought was a brilliant idea, but Sam shot it down almost immediately.
“What about the old clubhouse y’all used to have. Where’s that? Shovel hasn’t been out of prison very long, so I bet he hasn’t had the time to replenish his money supply. So where would he go that wouldn’t cost a lot of money?” I asked.
“This is the old clubhouse,” Sebastian explained. “And the only place that has low income housing is by the interstate. But that was the first place we went when we started looking.”
“Shit,” I exhaled. “That sucks.”
Both men nodded, and it was then that I realized that we were the only ones in the room. Several of the guys had stayed with me while Sam and Sebastian went to the casino. Now they were gone.