“My head is in the game.”
“No, it isn’t. You’re distracted. You need to focus.”
I didn’t think I was distracted, but that was the second time he’d mentioned it. So, I made a conscious effort to focus on the task at hand. “I’ll take the console. You check the glove box.”
There was nothing in the center console other than the items one would expect to find.
“Well, what do we have here?” Ink said and held up a small pistol. “A gun with the serial number filed off.”
“I’m glad I didn’t know about that,” I said.
“Let’s see what ole Lewis has in the trunk.”
I popped the trunk and almost laughed when I saw the contents. “Could this be any more cliché?”
“I don’t think so, brother. A shovel, rope, tarp, and a roll of duct tape are about as cliché as it gets.”
Sighing, I closed the trunk, disappointed that we hadn’t found anything helpful. “What now?”
“Now we wait for everyone else to get back from the hospital.”
“We should’ve waited at the house with the car. He’d have to come back and get it.”
“We didn’t need to. We know who he is and where he lives. It may not seem like it right now, but we have the upper hand here.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I admitted. “I’m just … I’m fucking tired of this. I want some damn answers.”
“We’re going to get some. It may not be as fast as you’d like, but we will get answers.”
He was right.It wasn’t as fast as I would have liked. Several hours passed before Carbon and Mason were released from the hospital. Ink and I were sitting in the common room when everyone got back. Carbon entered the clubhouse like a pissed off bear. When his angry eyes landed on me, I furrowed my brows in confusion, wondering why he was upset with me.
“This is personal now for me, too,” he fumed. “They hurt my son, and in turn, upset my wife and my other children. Someone’s getting fucked up.”
“How is Mason?” I asked, more relieved than I cared to admit to not be the one his anger was directed at.
“I’m fine,” Mason said and stepped around his dad, allowing me to see a large gash across the top corner of his forehead. “I’ve got a killer headache, but they said that’s to be expected.”
“How many stitches did it take to close that?” Ink asked.
“Fifteen,” Harper said, sounding horrified. “That perfect face I made from scratch has fifteen stitches in it.”
“Mom,” Mason said. “It’ll be fine. My hair will cover most of it.”
“I wish you two would come home. Both of you need to take it easy for a few days,” Harper said.
“We just need to discuss a few things, and then you can take us home,” Carbon said. “Unless we get our hands on one of the people connected to this mess. Then I’ll be a bit longer.”
“I’m going to call your sister and see if she can talk some sense into you,” Harper huffed.
Carbon reached out and cupped Harper’s face with his good hand. “I’m fine, and I’ll keep a close eye on Mason. If I think he needs to leave, I’ll make sure he does. I know my limits, and I haven’t reached them yet. I promise I’ll let you know if I do. Okay?”
“Okay,” she acquiesced. “I’ll be in your room if you need me.”
“I didn’t think it needed to be said, but clearly it does,” Phoenix grumbled. “Church.”
Finally.
A feeling of guilt washed over me for being impatient. Carbon and his son had been hurt, but at the same time, Daphne was out there with who knew what kind of threat waiting to ambush her yet again. The only thing keeping me remotely in check was knowing that Flint was with her. Flint had proven himself time and time again, including merely a few hours before when he noticed Daphne’s client’s strange behavior and had Byte run his tag number.