retrieve my phone from my jeans pocket and stare in semi-shock at the name on the screen.
Sliding to answer, a sweet voice fills the receiver.
“Raze?” the voice almost whispers with a slight edge of fear to her words.
“Dani, what’s wrong? Has something happened to Hero or you? The babies okay?”
“I’m fine, and so is Hero, but Raze, I think you should know that Darcy just took off in Jagger’s car with a gun tucked into her jeans.”
“What the fuck ?” I exclaim. “Where was she headed?”
“She didn’t tell me, Raze, but I saw a passport tucked into the pocket of her bag. I have a feeling she’s going to Mexico.”
Fuck, just what I need. Another bat-shit crazy woman hell-bent on stirring up trouble. Pulling up my contacts after ending my brief call with Dani, I dial Voodoo’s number and instruct him to track Jagger’s Challenger. Jagger loved that car beyond words and made Voodoo put a tracking device on it in case it was ever stolen. His paranoia will play in our favor since something has Darcy spooked enough to take the car. V comes through five minutes later and sends me the link to the tracking monitor on the car.
Sending off a quick text to Slider, I request his babysitting presence at the house then quickly shower and throw together a change of clothes, grabbing my bulletproof vest from the closet. I don’t know what I am going to walk into, but I will be prepared, especially with how much the violence in Mexico has escalated in the recent months.
Pulling a sheath of knives from the nightstand, I strap my shoulder holsters on and tuck knives in each open spot to conceal them under my cut. Bringing a gun across the border is illegal and would land my ass in Mexican prison so I have to stick with blades. If worse comes to worst, I can call in a favor to one of our allies and get firearms if necessary.
It will be dangerous to wear my cut in Mexico, but I need to make sure that I have my club affiliation displayed for identification purposes. V will have notified the local clubs that I will be in their territory for personal reasons and not business by the time I get down there. Let’s just hope they roll out the welcome wagon and not the undertaker should I have a run-in with them.
Grabbing my things, I make my way down to the garage when a motorcycle’s rumble pulls up into the driveway. Slider glides into the side garage door while my bike idles and I pull on my leathers. Giving him the rundown of his duties, I toss him the spare house keys and swing my leg over the seat of my bike. He disappears inside as I retrieve my phone from my back pocket and click on V’s link. The tracking software takes a few minutes to connect to the car’s embedded tracking device, but soon, a map with a moving icon appears.
Sure enough, Darcy is speeding down southbound I-5 and is already south of San Diego. Pulling out of the driveway, I give my Harley some gas and head south. I don’t know what she is up to, but going to Mexico alone is the worst fucking idea she’s ever had. I just hope I can get there in time before she does something stupid.
The drive through Los Angeles and San Diego is mostly uneventful. Typically, no matter the time of day, the traffic is always backed up, but today it’s smooth sailing through both of the large cities. It’s not unusual for there to be a five-hour back up at three in the morning around this part of California. Coming from another state, the traffic and the width of the highways scared me. It took me nearly three years before I would even venture out on the freeways on my own. Now, so many years later, I am cruising down one of the biggest freeways in the state with carefree ease.
Just as I arrive at the Mexican border, I hit traffic. I know that crossing the border will take some time so I dip my hand into my bag, pulling out my passport and a bag of pork rinds that I picked up from a convenience store just south of San Diego. The sign over the freeway
Sliding to answer, a sweet voice fills the receiver.
“Raze?” the voice almost whispers with a slight edge of fear to her words.
“Dani, what’s wrong? Has something happened to Hero or you? The babies okay?”
“I’m fine, and so is Hero, but Raze, I think you should know that Darcy just took off in Jagger’s car with a gun tucked into her jeans.”
“What the fuck ?” I exclaim. “Where was she headed?”
“She didn’t tell me, Raze, but I saw a passport tucked into the pocket of her bag. I have a feeling she’s going to Mexico.”
Fuck, just what I need. Another bat-shit crazy woman hell-bent on stirring up trouble. Pulling up my contacts after ending my brief call with Dani, I dial Voodoo’s number and instruct him to track Jagger’s Challenger. Jagger loved that car beyond words and made Voodoo put a tracking device on it in case it was ever stolen. His paranoia will play in our favor since something has Darcy spooked enough to take the car. V comes through five minutes later and sends me the link to the tracking monitor on the car.
Sending off a quick text to Slider, I request his babysitting presence at the house then quickly shower and throw together a change of clothes, grabbing my bulletproof vest from the closet. I don’t know what I am going to walk into, but I will be prepared, especially with how much the violence in Mexico has escalated in the recent months.
Pulling a sheath of knives from the nightstand, I strap my shoulder holsters on and tuck knives in each open spot to conceal them under my cut. Bringing a gun across the border is illegal and would land my ass in Mexican prison so I have to stick with blades. If worse comes to worst, I can call in a favor to one of our allies and get firearms if necessary.
It will be dangerous to wear my cut in Mexico, but I need to make sure that I have my club affiliation displayed for identification purposes. V will have notified the local clubs that I will be in their territory for personal reasons and not business by the time I get down there. Let’s just hope they roll out the welcome wagon and not the undertaker should I have a run-in with them.
Grabbing my things, I make my way down to the garage when a motorcycle’s rumble pulls up into the driveway. Slider glides into the side garage door while my bike idles and I pull on my leathers. Giving him the rundown of his duties, I toss him the spare house keys and swing my leg over the seat of my bike. He disappears inside as I retrieve my phone from my back pocket and click on V’s link. The tracking software takes a few minutes to connect to the car’s embedded tracking device, but soon, a map with a moving icon appears.
Sure enough, Darcy is speeding down southbound I-5 and is already south of San Diego. Pulling out of the driveway, I give my Harley some gas and head south. I don’t know what she is up to, but going to Mexico alone is the worst fucking idea she’s ever had. I just hope I can get there in time before she does something stupid.
The drive through Los Angeles and San Diego is mostly uneventful. Typically, no matter the time of day, the traffic is always backed up, but today it’s smooth sailing through both of the large cities. It’s not unusual for there to be a five-hour back up at three in the morning around this part of California. Coming from another state, the traffic and the width of the highways scared me. It took me nearly three years before I would even venture out on the freeways on my own. Now, so many years later, I am cruising down one of the biggest freeways in the state with carefree ease.
Just as I arrive at the Mexican border, I hit traffic. I know that crossing the border will take some time so I dip my hand into my bag, pulling out my passport and a bag of pork rinds that I picked up from a convenience store just south of San Diego. The sign over the freeway
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