“And you still can’t find her?”
“This conversation is starting to bore me.” He got to his feet and nodded at his son. There was no way he would leave his office open and exposed to anyone trying to find his secrets.
“What if Bear is right? What if she is dead?”
Preacher locked his office door before turning to his son. “You really should be careful what you say to me. Considering she’s supposed to be your best friend, but so far you’ve spent every available moment telling me how useless it is looking for her, it makes me wonder exactly why that is. What do you have to hide?”
“I don’t have fuck all to hide, Dad! I can’t help but wonder if we’re wasting our time here. She’s gone and there’s no way she’s coming back.”
“And that’s why you’ll never fucking find her.” Preacher pocketed his keys and without another look back, he headed out of the club. He went straight to his bike. He hadn’t drunk enough to even worry and he needed to clear his head.
Being at the clubhouse didn’t help him to think or give him any positive clues. All it did was remind him how much he’d fucking failed and he hated nothing more than being reminded about how fucking clueless he was when it came to Robin.
He shouldn’t have gone to torture O’Klaren. When Bishop found them, he should have stayed with her, or at least took her to the club.
After climbing onto his bike, he turned the engine over, gunning the machine as he took off through the metal gates. He no longer spent a great deal of time there. It was all work for him and when he did have time to rest, he went home.
He pressed on the gas and rode, sweeping each curve as it came, building up speed, trying to find a place where he no longer thought about Robin, or how fucking useless he’d been in his search for her.
There were moments he was sure he heard Robin plead for him to find her. It was fucked up, he knew that, but no matter how hard he fought, he felt her. She wasn’t dead. He didn’t know how he knew it, only that he did. If she was dead, he would’ve felt it, wouldn’t he?
Love is for pussies.
The weak.
The useless.
He used to believe all those words. They were, after all, part of his inner mantra. Women were just for pleasure and business, never to actually care about. Bishop’s mother hadn’t been a good woman. She’d spread her legs for anyone willing to pay the high price, and when he stopped being willing to pay, even for his son, she’d turned on him. Reaper again.
That bastard had been a thorn in his side for as long as he could remember and there was nothing he regretted more than not squashing that bug when he had the chance. Reaper needed to die and one day soon, he’d be the one to drain the life out of him, to watch him burn.
He’d thought of all the ways he could hurt, torture, and kill the son of a bitch, but he wouldn’t do anything until he knew where Robin was. Even if she was dead, he wanted to bring her home. She deserved to be laid to rest, but no, he wouldn’t allow himself to think like that. Fuck. She wasn’t dead!
A part of him knew Reaper wouldn’t kill her, at least not intentionally. Not out of any obligation to keep her alive. With Robin dead, it stopped the pain. Whereas with Robin alive, he knew she was being hurt. Reaper was all about hurting him, fucking with him. Instead of coming to him, Reaper was a fucking coward and instead took a woman.
He didn’t want to think about the life Robin had lived for the last two years. She’d always been a sweet girl and then turned into a beautiful flower, the love of his fucking life. He’d never seen it coming, never seen her.
He came to a stop near a parked police car. The lights on top of the vehicle weren’t on. No flashing lights. No sign to show who it was.
He slowed down. Parking in front of the car and turning off his ignition, he looked toward the man.
A flaming light and the scent in the air gave away his smoking.
“Smokin’ will kill ya, you know?” He got off his bike, heading toward the man perched on the front of his car.
“Yeah, and so will an angry woman with a knife. I don’t want to meet either and seeing as my woman doesn’t like me to smoke, I’ve got to get my kicks somehow,” Billy said.
Billy had taken over from that fucker O’Klaren. From what Preacher had been told, O’Klaren’s disappearance had been accepted by all. With his wife’s admission of his abuse and years of deceit, the cops who worked closely with him just wanted to put a bad case to rest and accepted everything they were told. After Dog released the information from the cell phone, along with the witness accounts, trying to make a huge case out of a crooked cop wasn’t on a high list of priorities. Preacher had no doubt there would be some cop who would look into O’Klaren’s disappearance. They’d never find a body though, and if they tried to take him down again, he’d be ready for them. Until then, he was clear to do his shit. Only now, he was more cautious than ever before. He wasn’t willing to take too many risks, not with his freedom. Not with Robin being out there somewhere. Cops had always been on his back, but like he and Billy, they had an understanding. He wouldn’t allow them to get too close.