The Law of Motion (Law Series) (32 page)

             
He turned me around and grabbed my hair. "Go," he whispered.

             
"Get the fuck off of me!" I yelled, reaching back and pretending to fight his grasp. "Let me go!"

             
"Maybe if you hadn't run on me,
bitch
," he countered loudly.

             
Suddenly, two motel room doors slammed open.

             
"What the fuck are you doing?" Terry hissed, looking up at one end of the motel to the other. "What the fuck happened?"

             
"Bitch ran on me, Terr. Damn. What the hell does it look like?" Kris snapped back. "She set those kids free. I barely caught this one. Look what she did to my eye, man!"

             
"David!" Terry yelled, and the fat scruffy looking, rather smelly bus driver came forward. "Go track down those kid
s

they can't be fa
r

and then follow us to the mountain." He pointed a finger at Kris. "Get her shit and get her in the fucking van. Tie her down if you have to, and if she gives you any more shit, gag her. It's time to go."

             
"Are you gonna give me shit?" Kris asked, barely keeping his smile at bay once Terry had stormed back into his room.

             
"Are you gonna give me my fucking shoes back?" I countered with a real question, but I laced it with a venomous tone.

             
"We'll see," he whispered, guiding me into the room. "Get your stuff."

             
I grabbed my jacket and followed Kris back out to the van as he held my gun. In seconds, Myles, Zoe, and Terry piled in with me. We pulled out without any lights on, and I swore I heard two gunshots behind me. Spinning around to look out the back window, I could barely make out two sets of headlights in the middle of the street.

             
"Think they made it?" Kris whispered from the seat next to me.

             
"If they did, then your pal David didn't," I breathed back, looking up as he smirked. It was a good thing we were facing the wrong way.

             
"Good," he sighed with a nod. "This next part will be...unpleasant, Mrs. Marshall. I'll do my best to protect you," he said, taking advantage of the fact that Myles had turned on the radio.

             
I nodded, swallowing thickly. "Okay." There wasn't much more to say than that. I was now on my own, and once again...I was someone's prisoner.

              My knee bounced in the booth of the all-night diner. I'd had way too much fucking coffee and way too much time to think. Ross and Dario were in the next booth over, babbling to each other over the merits of a good piece of pie trying to kill the time. I yanked my baseball cap off, slamming it down onto the table and running a nervous hand through my hair.

             
"Can I get you anything else?" the waitress asked, suddenly appearing at my side. Her innuendo was hard to miss, and I found myself trying damned hard not to roll my eyes at her.

             
She was young, with strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes. I'd put her somewhere between twenty and twenty-five, though I'd gotten really bad at nailing down ages on women, because I just didn't look. I didn't need to. Alyssa was everything to me. This girl didn't hold a candle next to her.

             
Her name tag said Harley, I noted as I pushed my coffee cup toward her, but said nothing as she refilled it. Victor, who was sitting in the booth with me, did the same, but it was Dario that saved me.

             
"
Ah, amore
," he crooned, causing her to blush almost redder than her hair. "I was wondering if you could please get me another piece of your...cherry pie," he requested, leaning on the word cherry.

             
I grinned into my coffee cup, shaking my head. Who knew I needed a wing man to
avoid
getting hit on?

             
"Are you Italian?" she asked in a flirtatious manner.

             
"
Sì, rosso, sono italiano ... tutto il senso alla mia anima,"
he answered her, and I'd known him long enough to know that he'd just called her "Red" and that he'd said he was Italian to his very soul. I wasn't fluent, but when you knew Dario, you picked up his bullshit. He spoke it flawlessl
y

bullshit, that is.

             
She squeaked and turned away from him, even more flustered than before, walking around the counter to get his dessert.

             
"You have no shame," Ross laughed, putting her face in her hands. "Jesus, Dario, did you teach Adrian that shit years ago? 'Cause damn, he used to do that everywhere we fucking went!"

             
I barked a laugh, looking over at her, and then him. Back in the day, he was fucking awesome to go out with, especially for a guy that was barely in his twenties. The women flocked to him, loving his sense of humor, just like Macon, but he was smoot
h

really
fucking smooth.

             
"Look at the kid's face," Dario chuckled. "I didn't need to teach him anything when he's walking around with a mug like that. A little guidance on the art of conversation, some sweet compliments, and a girl is putty in your hands...right, kid?"

             
I sighed, rolling my eye
s

reminiscent. "Whatever, Dario. However, you are smoother than Macon ever was, that's for sure."

             
"Aw, Mack's a clown...but it worked for him," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Jackson has that Southern charm shit going for him..."

             
Ross rubbed her hands together, grinning from ear to ear. "Oh, the stories I could tell Chance about Playboy!"

             
Victor’s impassive face finally broke into a smirk. "Miss Alyssa has this man...heart, body, and balls," he chuckled, punching my arm as I snorted at the truth of that statement. "I have a feeling she's well aware of what Little Harris here is capable of."

             
I nodded, my smile falling, because Alyssa did own me. I was just about to go crazy with worry for her. It wasn't that she couldn't take care of herself, because she could. It was the worry about what she could be put through. Garcia had really messed her up a long time ago, and even though it had brought us together, I'd never fucking forget the fear that would fill her face over simple things like touching. I worried about what she'd find when it came to Juan, and...fuck, I was just really worried. I didn't know if it was strength and bravery that caused her to decide to go with Myles, Terry, and Zoe, or fucking insanity but I couldn't judge her thoug
h

at all.

             
Harley, who actually
had
Harley Davidson ink on her leg, reappeared and dropped off Dario's pie with a smile, a giggle, and another blush, before she had to go greet another patron that was just walking in.

             
"Easy, Ross," Victor said softly from across the table. A break showing in her own perfect façade. How she could do it this whole time was unbelievable. "We'll get them. If we have to fucking climb that mountain, we'll fucking get them."

             
She swallowed thickly, nodding a bit. "I know...but fuck if I didn't try to shelter him from shit like this," she sighed, sitting back in the booth.

             
"Not your fault, kid. " Dario said, turning in his seat to face me. "Time, guys...time."

             
My phone rang and vibrated across the table, I snatched it up when I saw that it was Tink. The four of us froze.

             
“Please..." I breathed, squeezing my eyes closed before answering it. "Talk to me, Margaux..."

             
"Shit Adrian!" Tink squeaked over the phone, "Mr. Bear just came online."

             
I stood up, tossed way too many bills down onto the table to cover our tab, pulled my cap back on, and demanded, "Where? Tell me!"

             
Victor, Dario, and Ross slid out quickly from their seats and followed me out to the SUV. We piled in, and I started the engine.

             
"Take a right out onto the road," she said, and I could hear her typing away furiously at her computer. "You're not far...less than five miles. Go until I tell you to stop, because Mr. Bear is on the move. Slowly, but moving, nonetheless," she stated.

             
"God, Tink, you're
gorgeous
," I breathed into the phone, smiling at her giggle. Our issues over the moment that bear came on. "And no more bullshit about facial grids. You still haven't convinced me that science knows what's pretty or not."

             
"You scored high as shit for a guy!" she huffed, and I could almost see her rolling her eyes. "You figure you’d like my
science
, pretty boy."

             
I snorted, ignoring Ross’s laughter. "Talk to me, Tink. I'm closing in on five miles."

             
"Stop the car," she ordered. "You're right on top of the signal. What's around you?"

             
I pulled the SUV into a parking lot of a boarded up gas station. "I've got an old, closed up gas station, woods...lots of woods on either side of me, and like a mile ahead, there are like three signs for motels." I scanned the area, deciding to get out. "Everyone out! Keep your eyes peeled," I ordered, and the car emptied. "Weapons at the ready. Don't take any chances," I commanded, motioning for them to spread out.

             
"Hang on, Adrian," Tink said, typing away. "I'm going to use your cell signal and narrow it down for you."

             
"Okay," I breathed, my eyes scanning the darkness.

             
"Got it, got it, got it," she sang. "Go forward about two yards, on your right. The signal is still moving."

             
"Ten-four," I huffed, breaking into a run, stopping when she told me to. I pulled the phone away from my ear so that I could hear what was around me and not Margaux's furious typing skills.

             
It was then that I heard the snap of a twig, the hushed whisper, and the pounding of footsteps on my right. I spun to look, and my heart stopped.

             
"Juan?" I called as I unceremoniously ended the call, and the boys screamed. "Come here, it's just me," I told them, and they burst out of the darkness of the forest, their little legs running as fast as they could.

             
"
Unca Adwien
!" my nephew gushed, flying into my arms. He was holding Cedrick's hand and didn't look like he was about to let it go, and Mr. Bear was firmly tucked under his arm like a running back with a football.

             
"Jesus, Juan," Ross groaned, when she finally reached me, wrapping her arms all the way around him, because it seemed like ages since we'd seen him last. She pulled him back from her neck to look at hi
m

she was crying. "Are you boys okay?" She asked, pulling little Cedrick to her, because he looked lost, tired, and like he could use a hug.

             
"Yes, Mommy," Juan said as Cedric just nodded.

             
"You sure? Cedrick, sweetie, you okay?" She asked him, shifting from soldier to mom mode.

             
"I want to go home, Mrs. De Luca ," Cedrick whispered, clinging to her fiercely.

             
“Okay, sweetie," She sighed, kissing both of their foreheads, not caring that they were dirty.

             
I didn’t want to break up their reunion, but Alyssa was suppose to be with them. "Where's your aunt, Juan?" I asked.

             
"Back there," he said, pointing towards the direction of the several motels down the road.

             
I nodded and stood. Ross looked at me and nodded in understanding, that we had more work to do. "We’re going to take you to your mommy ok," she crooned. "You’re safe now," she promised wiping her eyes and taking them both by the hand.

             
Victor whistled from across the road, pointing towards the motels. "We've got company," he stated, and I could see his worry, because the damned road had been dead since just after one in the morning and that car was pulling out of a motel up the way.

             
"Get them in the car! Now!" I snapped to Ross, and we turned to run.