Smart Baztard (Baztards MC Book 1) Page 12

  Kemi jerked her hand away from him as though it was he who had burned her. "To that little girl?"

  "Gabby is more woman than you'll ever be."

  Chapter Twenty-One

  "How was that banana in your fruit salad last night?" Gabby waggled her eyebrows as she pulled into the early morning traffic.

  "He buttered my biscuit good," said Diniece. "What about you and secret agent man?"

  "He assaulted me with a friendly weapon."

  "And held you for aggressive cuddling?"

  "Attacked my pink fortress."

  "Entangled your lower beards."

  "Filled me out like an application."

  The two friends broke out into a fit of giggles. Diniece had made herself sparse after Gabby told her that Prince had finally taken her V-card. Diniece had figured, since she was caught, she'd spend the rest of the weekend with Chief making the beasts with two backs.

  Diniece had more experience than she did, but Diniece put her schoolwork and her future career above everything. Diniece had never had a boyfriend, just a string of one night stands and short-term bed buddies. And by all accounts, she seemed to prefer it that way.

  "So," Gabby hedged. "With that application you took with Chief, do you think you might hold a steady job?"

  Diniece jerked back, the smile faltering from her face. "That was just for fun. It's nothing serious. Plus, he has two kids and two baby's mamas. I would be a fool to saddle myself with that. But damn if that man doesn't know his way around a woman's body."

  Diniece's cell phone rang at just that moment. Glancing over, Gabby recognized Chief's phone number. Diniece's thumb hesitated a few seconds before hitting the cancel button. A second later, she pulled up the text app.

  As Gabby neared the entrance of the courthouse complex, she wondered if those two noncommittal individuals might be just what the other needed to make something lasting. Diniece continued to text as they pulled up to the guard gate at the complex's entrance.

  "Morning, Stu."

  "Hey, Ms. Gabby. Is your dad enjoying his vacation?"

  "My mother confiscated his laptop and cell phone, so probably not."

  Stu chuckled. Everyone knew the D.A. was as married to his work as he was to his wife.

  "Stu, I just realized I forgot my purse." Gabby knew better than to drive without her driver's license, but she'd been a little preoccupied that morning saying goodbye to Prince. They'd made love before the sun came up. Then they'd hopped in the shower together and made love against the tiles. Then Gabby had made him a full breakfast, along with a bagged lunch of his favorite sandwiches, before kissing him goodbye. She couldn't wait to do that every morning for the rest of their lives.

  "No problem, Ms. Gabby." Stu waved them forward. "I don't think it'll be a problem passing through the District Attorney's daughter."

  "Thanks, Stu." Gabby pulled up to the curb of her dad's offices. "So, I'll pick you up at five o'clock?"

  "Um." Diniece looked down at her phone. Then she twisted her lip as she regarded Gabby. "I think I've got a ride."

  "Hmm, so more belly bumping for you tonight?"

  "Shut up." Diniece hopped out of the car with a grin and slammed the door.

  Gabby rolled the passenger window down. "Enjoy your amorous congress," she yelled.

  Diniece flipped her friend the bird as she walked away in her heels and designer business skirt.

  Gabby looked up at the offices. She knew Prince was in there. Her foot tapped at the floorboards like a junky who smelled his next hit around the corner. But Gabby decided not to go in and bother Prince. It was a big day for him.

  They hadn't talked about their next step, but she assumed she would be moving to D.C. right after graduation. She wondered if she should even bother with graduation?

  But she knew better. Not only would her parents have a literal cow if she dropped out months before her completion date. Prince would be disappointed in her. But what actually made the decision for her is that she didn't want the judge to have any more fodder against her.

  Gabby pulled out of the complex, preparing to head back home to hit the books and raise her grades. She waved goodbye to Stu as she left the gated area. The complex was not just the courthouses. It also contained services like vet services, family services, and motor vehicle services. When she pulled around the corner, she saw a familiar face walking down the street. Gabby parked at the curb and hopped out the car.

  "Sully?"

  The dark haired man turned. His body jerked and his hands went up in alert.

  Gabby stopped in her tracks, nearly teetering. Her brother had told her that Sully was suffering from bouts of PTSD after his last tour of war.

  "Sully. It's me, Gabby."

  His eyes took a moment to focus. Then he closed them and sighed. "Hey, Gabby. I'm sorry. It's not a good idea to sneak up on a soldier."

  "I'm sorry." She took another step towards him. He looked tired and haggard, nothing like the laid back desert prince who'd spin a tale of magic and wonder out of thin air. "I haven't heard from you in a while."

  "I'm sorry I stopped writing. Things just got …"

  The light had gone out of his gray eyes. Gabby had the urge to wrap her arms around him, but she somehow knew that wouldn't be a wise thing to do. Still, she didn't want to leave him alone when he looked, well, alone.

  "I was going to head out for a cup of coffee," she said. "You want to join me?"

  "Can't. I have an appointment at the Vet Administration. Made it months ago and I can't miss it or it'll take another few months to get on the list again."

  Gabby nodded. "Maybe you can come over for dinner tonight? Prince is in town."

  "Yeah, I know." He looked away.

  Gabby chewed at her lip, wondering how to get past his shell. "He and I are together."

  That caught his attention. He narrowed his eyes as he gazed down at her. "What are you? Twenty-One?"

  "Twenty-two."

  "Damn. I had twenty-three in the pool."

  She got a grin out of him. That's when she saw a glimmer of the old Sully. She took another tentative step towards him. His easy grin vanished as loud voices sounded in the near distance.

  A group of men came down the corner. They were loud and raucous. Sully looked over his shoulder and sunk back into himself.

  "Out of the way, fucking towel head," said one of the men in the group.

  Sully's back went ramrod straight. His gaze narrowed as his eyes flicked over each of the four males. One was in a suit, the others in jeans and motorcycle jackets that held the emblem of a swastika over their hearts. Sully's fists balled.

  "What you looking at, you fucking bomber?" said the guy in the suit. "In a few months, we'll be sending you back to where you came from."

  "He was born here," said Gabby, stepping up to Sully's side. "He went out and fought for our country."

  "This isn't your country," said the man. His eyes were crystal blue and his hair white blond. He'd be handsome if he weren't spewing such hate. "It's ours. Why don't you show us your papers, chica?"

  Gabby flinched under the man's proprietary glare. She reached for her purse to shove her ID down his throat and froze. The man grinned at her hesitation.

  "That's what I thought," he said.

  Sully stepped in between them, but two of the other guys were on him. Both threw punches at Sully, one high and the other low. Sully evaded them both and took one man down. Then a third joined the second. Sully was outnumbered and before long he went down.

  Once they got him down on the ground, the blows didn't stop. The men were on top of him throwing punches. On the side of him delivering kicks.

  Gabby's voice caught in her throat as she watched with horror. She made to take a step to get them off, to take some of the heat, to run for help? She didn't know. She raised her heel, and then her whole body went airborne.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Prince rode himself hard, pushing himself and his bike beyond the limits. H
is physical limits. The speed limit. The city limit. He headed back to the bar where he'd first confronted Roman and his crew. It was lunchtime, and the bar was empty of bikes. Prince cursed as he sped out of the parking lot, spewing gravel as his wheel turned. He wanted to punch something.

  It had been all he could do not to launch himself at Roman's smug face as those elevator doors closed. He wanted to hurl words of betrayal at Kemi for standing on the wrong side of the issue. He wanted to tip over Dawson's tiny desk, letting all his carefully constructed paperwork spill on the floor.

  This was not what he signed up for when he came on to the Hate Crimes division. He'd dedicated his life to protecting the weak and powerless with the balanced certainty of the law. But what good was the law if it allowed people to get hurt based on technicalities?

  This was no longer a matter of legalities. It had nothing to do with free speech or expression. When Roman and his Henchmen painted that hateful sign on their racecar, on their bikes, and on their jackets in this diverse community that worked hard to show respect and tolerance to others, they had declared war in a land of peace. In war there were rules of engagement; circumstances and conditions under which you used force. Roman knew that when he attacked Crow on the track. He'd made a calculated decision. One way or another, he was going to pay.

  Maybe Prince should let it play out in the streets like he knew it would. Prince knew Hawk and the brothers of the Watchers Crew were bidding their time. The Baztards, too. Prince knew both clubs would move in on Roman at the most opportune time and a battle would wage across the city.

  Even if Prince had been able to get a legal conviction, it wouldn't stop that eventual showdown. He knew that people couldn't erase hate from someone else's heart. They could only try to protect themselves and those they loved from the rages of war.

  Prince pulled his bike over to the side of the road. He crested to a hilltop that overlooked the city. Fluffy green leaves poked out between red brick buildings. A yellow bridge extended over crystal blue waters as cars made their way to and fro in an orderly fashion. Prince's palm itched for his Rubik's cube, for a problem with a predictable process that would lead to a clear solution. But his cube was back at home.

  His shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes to the scenery. He'd gone into law enforcement because he'd needed a process that would bring conflicts to an end. Street justice and vigilantism kept all parties in a continual loop of righting what someone else thought was wrong. The law was meant to close that door after due process. But the law had failed all parties and the wound would fester, then scab over after some time, only to be ripped open in the future.

  He wanted out of the damn loop. All Prince wanted to do was to take Gabby in his arms and get lost. Over the last couple of days, he realized that whenever he was with her everything settled and he didn't have a care in the world. It had always been that way between them. Now he could take refuge in that haven for the rest of his life.

  He pulled out his phone preparing to hit her number. But when he looked down, he saw that there were a dozen missed calls. All from Chief. The last notification was a text message.

  Prince's eyes zeroed in on the words "hospital" and "Sully."

  Prince lowered his visor and took off at full speed. His haven would have to wait while he went to check on his brother. Prince couldn't imagine what could have happened to put his friend in the hospital. Sully had become a recluse after his last tour and kept to himself.

  The first person he saw when he entered the sliding doors of the Emergency Room was Nurse Cleo.

  "I'll take you to him," she said, taking his arm and guiding him along the maze of hallways.

  "What happened?" Prince said as he followed her lead.

  "He was beat badly just outside the vet building," she said. "He's been in and out of consciousness. He keeps calling for Gabby."

  That surprised Prince. "He and Gabby were close. She wrote to him while he was away on tour."

  They came to Sully's room and Prince's knees nearly gave out. His friend was black and blue wherever skin was showing; beneath his eyes, his chin, his shoulder, even one of his hands was badly bruised. A nun dressed from head-to-toe in a white habit and coif, stood over him at the end of the bed. It couldn't be that bad.

  Prince turned to the corner where Chief sat slouched over in a chair. His normal healthy tan was pale in the waning afternoon sunlight. His blue eyes were the darkest of storm clouds. He wrung his hands and bounced the heel of his right foot on the linoleum floor.

  "This is Sister Ruth," said Cleo. "She's been taking care of Mr. Abdelrahim."

  "He's Muslim." Prince's voice came out raspy as though it had been bruised. "If it's bad enough to have clergy, we'll need an Imam."

  The nun shook her head. Her voice, when she spoke, reminded Prince of the sad song Gabby had played on her cello a few days ago. It was just as soft and resonating.

  "He's going to pull through, God willing," Sister Ruth said. "It's going to be a tough road, but it looks as though he has family and friends to help him along."

  Sully opened his eyes. His head swiveled and his gaze found the speaker. He blinked once, then twice as he took in Sister Ruth. He reached his bruised hand up to her. It shook like a brittle leaf in the wind.

  Sister Ruth caught his hand, gently, inside hers and guided it back down to the mattress. With his hand in hers, Sully seemed to settle. He closed his eyes and exhaled.

  "It's all right, Mr. Abdelrahim," said Sister Ruth. "Look who's come to visit."

  Sully struggled to open his eyes. This time he found Prince. Sully's eyes widened when he saw his friend. He struggled to sit up but Sister Ruth and then Nurse Cleo were on him, coaxing him back down.

  "Gabby," Sully managed. "Gabby."

  "I'll call her right now, brother." Prince pulled out his cell phone. "She'll be right over."

  "No," said Sully. "Took her. Took Gabby."

  Ice ran down Prince's back. The phone felt like a heavy weight in his hands. His thumb felt too big to press the small symbols on the phone. But finally he managed. He pressed the phone to his ear and heard a sound that stopped his heart.

  It rang. Over and over again, the phone simply rang. Gabby always answered his calls before the first ring had completed.

  "Who?" Prince said. "Who took Gabby?"

  "Nazi." Sully struggled to get the words out. "Young. White hair."

  Sister Ruth's eyes widened and her hand trembled as she reached out for Sully.

  "Where?" Prince demanded.

  But Sully was seized with a coughing fit.

  "I'm sorry," said the nun. "But you're going to have to leave. He's not well enough yet and I need to get the doctor in here."

  Prince's mind reeled as he was backed out of the room. Roman had Gabby? That was impossible. Gabby was at home. Wasn't she?

  He hit redial, but again, the phone rang and rang. He switched tactics and rang Diniece's phone.

  "Gabby dropped me off this morning at the courthouse," she said when she came on the line. "Why? What's wrong?"

  Prince didn't respond. He hung up the phone. There were three pieces of this puzzle and the jagged edges fit together. Roman had left the Attorney General's office that morning. Sully had been found at the vet building, beaten, bruised, and left for dead. And Gabby had dropped Diniece off at the courthouse.

  Prince staggered against the wall. But he didn't fall to the floor like his legs wanted to. Chief caught him and pulled him back up.

  "Do you know where the Henchmen's club house is?"

  "Yeah. Yeah, I do." Chief was already tapping at his phone. "I'm calling everybody. The Baztards will meet us there."

  "I'm calling her brother," said Prince.

  Any thought of the law and balance and justice went out the window. If they hurt her, he would kill each and every one of them.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The shock wore off slowly and then the fear began to settle in. Gabby had been a part of many an argum
ent, many which she had instigated herself. But never had she been a party to violence where fists and feet and elbows became involved.

  The sickening crack of bone against bone still rang through her ears. The sight of Sully's booted feet lying on the ground had made her spine shudder. She'd known that she was supposed to fight back, scream, bite if ever anyone tried to take her. Her father, her brother, Eagle, and Prince had all drilled that into her as a child. But no one had ever mentioned what to do if she saw an attempted murder.

  Because that's what it had been. Those weren't the jabs she'd seen her brother and his friends exchange as kids. Now she sat huddled on the dingy sofa of a warehouse somewhere just outside the city. Slowly, her body came out of its sluggish impotence and she looked around for a way out.

  She could get out of this. There was always a way out. Every problem had a solution. She just had to find the right process, the best order of operations. Just like Prince had taught her.

  Someone was going to find her. She had her cell phone in her pocket. Prince would call and when she didn't answer, he'd know something was up. Then he could track her phone just like they did on television. But when she peered down at her phone, she saw no bars. No service.

  She closed her eyes and let out a shuddery breath. It wasn't the end of the world. Someone could still track a cell phone if it was out of service. If nothing else, they could see where it had been last and work from there.

  She weighed her options in the meantime. She sat in a warehouse turned into a garage. There were motorcycles all around and two race cars. If she could get the keys, she could ride a bike or a car out. There were also bound to be wrenches and crowbars around that she could use as weapons.

  But even before that, she could use her feminine wiles to gain an edge. She could flirt her way out, cry to get some sympathy, or throw a tantrum to show how difficult she was going to be.

  Gabby turned to the dark haired man whose eyes were locked on her breasts. "What's your name?" she asked.