Short part but the action is coming!
Devin
SHIT!
FUCK!
And a long line of other cuss words go through my mind as i think of all the ways i fucked yo starting with not being there for the woman in the video the woman i claim to love at least in my head but my actions dont prove that. I've been an absolute dick to her to my brothers not just once or a few times but over and over no matter what my 'motive' for fixing the bar it is no excuse for not being there.
The video over the silence rings out around us.
I'll make this right.
A phone rings out, Wyatt answers it his tight features pull even tighter at the words that come through the phone . He pulls the phone away taps on the screen turning on the speakerphone so we can all hear.
"....took her. She woke up and insisted on leaving that she was fine to be out of the hospital with nothing physically wrong with her they technically could not hold her. So the discharge papers were signed and we were getting loaded up. She was in the car, door shut as i went around the back. I hear i a door open and shut then the SUV started moving I ran back to her side to see her banging on the Glass trying to open the door, wincing the whole time. I looked at the driver side and it was him! He took her."
"Jack , who took her? Who took Del?" Sawyer asks the man on the phone, Delaney's father.
"That bastard, her ex-boss, Needleman." Jack says with ten pounds of venom in his voice.
A round of curses go up and then we are all piling in out vehicles to get on the road and find her.
I call out, " Hey boys, time for a little round up?"
Wyatt who is in the driver seat of his truck with the window down lets out a "Yeehaw!"
Sawyer only grins viciously agreeing to the stunt we are about to pull.
YOU ARE READING
THE LOST CAUSE BAR #wattys2017
RomanceDelaney, a woman despairing over unreliable people, leaves everything behind for a night. Her sights are set on leaving the area but her dream, of owning and running something, might be more realistic than she thinks. The night becomes better than...
