Being Zolt (16 page)

I rolled over and tried to get comfortable enough to sleep. After several minutes, I gave up and slipped from the bed, careful not to wake Zolt.

After visiting the bathroom, I went into the closet, closed the door, and turned on the light. The clock read 1:45 in the morning and I groaned. If I didn’t do something to wear myself out, I’d never get back to sleep.

I found my running shorts and a 30 Seconds to Mars T-shirt and put them on. But as I tied the laces of my shoes, the smug expression on Marcus’s face and his last words as we left the cemetery came back to me, and I started to seethe. I needed to do something because waiting for T-bone, Jackson, and Sloan to save Kenna while I sat around drove me crazy.

At the bedroom door, I stopped and glanced back at the bed. Zolt’s sleeping form tugged at my heart. If he woke and found me gone, he’d go ballistic, not to mention be worried. But I would do this fast, and I’d come home and get back into bed before he had time to miss me.

I walked down the hallway as silent as a mouse, making my way to the front door. Ben and Rufus followed me, their tails wagging in anticipation.

“Boys, you can’t go with me. Go lay down. We’ll play later.”

They both whined, and I cut them off with a sharp “no”. I then pointed in the direction of their beds.

They cocked their heads and whined again as if questioning my decision before heading for their beds. Rufus stopped and looked over his shoulder at me; I swear there was a warning in his doggie-stare.

“I’ll be fine, Ruf. Go on now,” I encouraged, pointing my finger in the direction of the utility room.

With one last, admonishing growl, he walked away.

“Damn dog,” I muttered as I grabbed my keys, turned off the alarm and left the house.

“This will be fine,” I told myself as I embarked on a stupid and beyond-dangerous endeavor.

I drove to my grandpa’s ranch and parked the Mustang on the side road at the back of the property. From my years growing up, I knew how to sneak in and off the ranch. Chris and I used to leave all the time in the summer; we’d hot-foot it to the swimming hole on hot July nights. I crossed my fingers and prayed the opening in the fence still existed.

Grabbing the flashlight from the glove box, I quietly exited the car. Thank God for a black Mustang that the night perfectly camouflaged.

With cat-like stealth, I found my way to the break in the fence and made my way onto the property. Ire rumbled inside me as I kept my head down and my body as unobtrusive as possible.

With Mom gone, I owned this land, not Marcus. Once we had Kenna, and Marcus had been taken down, I’d figure out what to do with all the acreage. I would make sure to use it for something positive; something to negate what Marcus had taken here.

I forced down the bad taste in my mouth thinking about all that had happened here invoked, shoving them down into a dark corner, vowing to stay strong and not fall apart. All I wanted to do was to see the ranch during the time Marcus might be holding a gathering at the club. Certainly the middle of the night would be that time.

In the back of my mind, I told myself I had lost it, and that the risk far outweighed the rewards. If caught, I’d be in a worse spot than I had been in before. Marcus would do his best to destroy me. Still, I didn’t stop; the chance that I might see Kenna and be able to help her kept me moving forward. Though, in all honesty, even if I saw her, what could I do on my own? So I decided to take a quick look around and leave. Then, I’d report anything I saw to T-bone and let him deal with it.

I crept to the window on the tips of my toes. Inside, I could see shadows of people moving, their bodies obscured by the vertical blinds hanging in the windows.

Dry grass and sticks crunched beneath my feet as I angled my body to get the best vantage point. When I peered in the window, I gasped at what I saw taking place in my bedroom. The activities inside had destroyed any childhood innocence that room had. The cross we had seen before now had a naked woman secured to it. I cupped my hands around my face and squinted against the darkness in an attempt to get a better look. I couldn’t tell if the woman was Kenna or not. Nor could I see the identities of the other men watching as they all donned masquerade masks. But the man holding the whip, I would recognize anywhere.

Marcus Xavier!

“Mother fucker!” Physical memories of Marcus flogging me made me flinch and my back sting.

Something moved behind me and I jumped, tripping over my own feet. I fell to my ass on the ground in an unceremonious heap. Luckily, the
crack
of the whip sounded at the same time, covering the noise of my own stupidity. The flashlight flew from my hands, landing under a brush, the light illuminating my position. But I couldn’t move.

I sat there on my ass, trying to catch my breath while I prayed no one heard my fall and came to investigate. They would see the light from the flashlight and find me sneaking around.

“Fuck!” I mumbled, digging around for the flashlight I had no hope of finding without making noise. With the last of my courage, I scrambled to my feet and fled back to the Mustang.

“Irelyn!” I sat up in bed with a start and reached for her. When I found it empty and cold, I knew immediately something was wrong. I jumped out of bed and pulled on my shorts, heading out of the room as fast as my jacked-up leg allowed me to move.

“Brody!” I yelled as I reached the hall. I opened his door, and a sleep-mussed and confused Brody met me.

We both jumped.

“What the hell, Zolt?” he grumped as he rubbed his eyes.

“Irelyn. I think she’s gone.”

“What do you mean, you think? Did you check the rest of the house? Call her on her cell?”

“No. I just know it. I’m telling you something is wrong. Fuck!” I cursed as I went back to our bedroom and found my phone. I called Irelyn and got no answer.

Brody came back in the room a second later. “Her car is gone.”

“Mother fucker! Where is she?”

I dialed T-bone’s number, tapping my foot as I waited for him to answer. When it went to voicemail, I dialed the number again.

“Zolt, this better be an emergency. If you wake my very pregnant—”

“T!” I shouted into the phone, cutting his words off. “Irelyn is gone. She’s not answering her phone, and she didn’t leave a note. Do you still have a GPS locator in her car?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in fifteen. Shit! What the hell has she done?”

“I don’t know but hurry. I’m going bat-shit crazy here. She’s in trouble; I can feel it.”

I hung up the phone and hurried back to our room, throwing on a T-shirt and my Nikes. For the next several minutes, I paced the entryway in front of the door, waiting for T to arrive.

Brody sat in a chair, lending silent support, and I was thankful for it. Thankful he didn’t try to talk me down, tell me it would be okay, or offer advice on how to handle my wife. He just sat there, silently offering his support.

As soon as T’s Suburban pulled in the drive, I ran out the door and hopped inside the vehicle, barely giving it time to come to a stop.

“Did you find her?” I could hear my voice tremble with fear, but I didn’t care if it made me seem weak.

T gave me a sideways glance as he pulled out of my drive onto the street.

“Well?” I barked.

“Best guess is she’s on the way to her grandpa’s ranch. The car’s still in transit. We can’t be more than a few minutes behind her.”

My mouth fell open and I shook my head, not believing his words. “Why? What the hell is she thinking?”

“Grant and Kirk are on the way. Look, Zolt, we don’t know what we’ll find when we get there. I need you to be cool. Worst-case scenario is that Marcus has her. Best-case, well, best-case is that he doesn’t. You freaking out won’t help me to do my job. Can you get your shit together?”

I nodded and stared ahead, praying we found Irelyn before Marcus did.

Somehow, I made it back to the Mustang in one piece. My heart beat a million miles a minute as I fumbled with the keys. With shaking hands, I tried to start the car, but my butter fingers dropped the keys.

“Shit,” I said as I dug around for the keys.

Two headlights pulled up behind the car and I yelped. This was it, I’d been discovered. I found my keys just as a man jumped out of the black Suburban and rushed to the driver’s side door.

The door opened and Zolt glared down at me. “What the fuck, Irelyn? Give me the keys and move over, now.”

I did as he said and moved to the passenger side. I couldn’t believe he’d found me and had come after me. I said a silent prayer of thanks to God for my husband.

I turned to Zolt to apologize as he started the Mustang. That’s when I saw a row of at least three other cars coming down the dirt road.

Zolt saw them at the same time. He gunned it, spinning the wheels as we left—a cloud of dust rolling in our wake.

“Can we get out this way?” Zolt asked, snap shifting the car into second and flooring the gas, making her roar to life. The back end broke loose, requiring a little finesse to bring it back in line.

“Is that T-bone back there?” I asked.

“Answer the question. How do I get us out of here?”

“Take a left at the road, then another left. That will take us to the highway.”

With expert precision, Zolt handled the Mustang, leaving T-bone and the other cars in our dust.

“Zolt, what about T?” I asked as the ramifications of what I had done started to sink in.

“T can take care of himself. He’ll lead them away from us if we’re lucky.”

I glanced back just as Zolt made the second turn, gasping when I saw we weren’t alone and it wasn’t T following us.

“Zolt,” I said warningly.

“I see them. Mother fucker! Why, Irelyn? Why?” He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “Hold on!”

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes, gripping the armrest of the door. The Mustang’s power kicked in as Zolt pushed her. I opened my eyes and glanced at the speedometer, watching it climb to one hundred on its way to one-five.

Zolt maneuvered through the dark, middle-of-the-night traffic. His eyes darted to the rearview mirror, and I prayed he’d find a way to lose the car rapidly gaining on us.

“Shit!” Zolt grumbled. “We’ve got to find a way to lose them. I see only one opportunity, and it’s going to be close. Keep quiet; I don’t need you distracting me.”

I nodded and bit the side of my mouth to keep from screaming.

We approached a convoy of semi-trucks to our right, and Zolt slowed considerably. I wanted to ask his plan, but I didn’t, too afraid I’d distract him.

Zolt pushed his way in between the trucks, barely leaving room for the truck behind us to react to our sudden appearance.

The driver blew his horn several times in annoyance.

We were in a semi-truck sandwich. Zolt’s masterful driving had cut us off from our pursuer. He continued to drive the Mustang like a pro, and I had to think Chris would be proud of the man driving his car.

At the very last second, Zolt took the next exit and left the highway. Downshifting, he slowed the car enough for us to take the first left. Then, he circled back and we reentered the highway, going the opposite direction, passing our tail.