Page 80 of Biker's Property

Oske: SOS.

Juliette: What did Ruger do? Send footage.

I wishit was that simple.

Oske: Darlene shot him and broke out of my trailer with four other bikers. I don’t know when this happened but they’re on their way East and they’re after Ryder. Ruger will survive but… he’s fucked up.

Tamiya: Send location. I’ll call Gideon.

She’ll needto send Gideon to Ruger. I don’t want to be anywhere near that crazy ass white boy when he’s raging out over somethingandhealing from a gunshot wound. He’s even crazier than he was before.

Anna: Wyatt calling Ryder.

Juliette: Why are they after Ryder? Hunter wants to know. He’s leaving now.

Quin: Just got Avery from daycare.

Tamiya: What’s the move?

Oske: He has someone who witnessed a murder.

She sends a cute picture.I love Quin, but maybe this isn’t the time to share adorable baby pictures. My phone vibrates with all the likes. Hey, at least everyone is paying attention.

Juliette: Who? He kidnapped her?

I don’t have that much information. Just Ruger using more racial slurs than one person ought to even have in their vocabulary. I pieced together as much of the story from that as I could, but it’s hardly a journalistic account of what happened.

Oske: I don’t know. But she’s in trouble and if we all move at once… We can have them surrounded.

Tamiya: Coordinates?

Ruger confessed to me that he fed Darlene a tracker the day before because he was “getting suspicious”. I wish he didn’t constantly feel the need to open up to me, but this seems to be the unfortunate position I occupy in Ruger’s life as the only person who can tolerate being around him. Hey, Southpaw pays when I need it.

Stupid asshole. He’s lucky Darlene didn’t take his whole arm off with that gun.

I’m still waiting on Ruger to respond, so I have to pace around with my phone for an uncomfortably long minute while Juliette sends sassy gifs and Quin responds with more baby pictures. Tamiya keeps her replies all business. The last time she blindly trusted me, I got her into a lot of trouble with that infuriating blond boy she keeps around.

But this time, there aren’t any games. Just a woman who witnessed a murder, a club member who needs us, and a bunch of women who are far more likely to be sober and functional than any of the men affiliated with the club.

Ruger sends me the coordinates. It’s an AirTag. He made a pregnant woman swallow an AirTag. I don’t want to blame this on all white people, but the ones I’ve seen so far have not inspired any confidence that they are right in the head. The only bright side to this extension of Ruger’s sociopathy is how easy it is for me to send the location to our group chat.

Tamiya: Where is that AirTag?

Anna: Probably up someone’s ass.

She’s the type of person who rarely responds to the group chat, but when she does, you have to try not to spew liquid out of your nose from laughing your ass off at her sass or her more intentionally hilarious comments.

Oske: I think he had her swallow it. So can we move? Ruger is out of his fucking mind over here.

Juliette: Use deadly force if necessary.

Anna: Be CAREFUL!

Tamiya: I’m in. I’ll get Gideon.

Juliette: I’m in.

Anna: I’ve been driving east since Oske texted us. We were in the camper! Sent using voice to text.