by Nicole James
“We makin’ a road trip to go get her?” Night Train asks, and if I know him, he’s probably already mapping out the route in his head.
Wildman pulls his chin back with a smirk of disbelief. “All the way to New Orleans? That’s damn near fourteen hundred miles. She’ll come home in a few days. I say let the girl have her fun.”
Darko chuckles at him and folds his arms. “It’s like you don’t know our fearless leader at all.”
Wildman throws his hands in the air, swiveling on Darko. “Just sayin’, what’s the point?” He looks at me. “Just have the New Orleans Chapter pick her up. Problem solved.”
Night Train laughs outright. “And what? Haul her all the way to Colorado for us, and then ride home? You’ve lost your damn mind.”
Utah lifts his chin at me, ignoring his bickering brothers and cuts to the chase. “I think Memphis is down there. Heard he was heading this way soon. He could haul her back and it wouldn’t be out of his way. Besides, doesn’t he owe you one?”
“Yeah, let one of those fucking Nomads be useful for a change,” T Bone mutters.
Baja grins around his smoke. “You’re just jealous of their freedom to come and go as they please, T-Bone.”
Utah disregards their banter. “Call the New Orleans chapter; see if he’s there.”
I tap my thumb against the table, thinking. It’s a lot to ask, but the man does owe me. If he is down there, he’d get to her quicker than I or any of the boys I could send. It’s worth a try. I pull my phone out and make the call.
CHAPTER SIX
Memphis—
“I’ve been trying to find Mom.”
My eyes cut to my sister at her out-of-the-blue pronouncement. She’s got my same dark hair and green eyes. We’re sitting on her front porch in Hattiesburg, her baby girl asleep in her crib inside and the baby monitor on the white wicker table between us. It was a long ride from New Orleans this morning to come see my new and only niece. Baby Brianna is precious and worth every mile I rode to get here.
I look from my sister to the Boston ferns hanging in baskets that gently swing in the warm Mississippi breeze. I’ll never understand my sister’s fascination with trying to find our mother. The two of us were bounced from one foster home to another, until we were finally separated. It took me years to track my sister down, and I was determined to do that, but the mother who gave us up? Not a chance in hell. I’ve got no feelings for her. Dumping us out like a litter of kittens? That’s fucked. We were twins, and the state never should have separated us, but there’s a lot of shit in this world that never should happen.
I look at my twin. She’s married and happy, and I don’t understand why she would spend all this time looking back. “She abandoned us, Kayla. Why the hell would you bother?”
“Maybe that’s not the truth. I’m a mother now. I see things differently. I just need to know. Don’t you?”
I take a sip of my sweet tea and stare off, refusing to go down that road.
“I’ve hired some people to help me. They found a Melinda Ballard in Tupelo. They’re checking to see if she’s related to Mom. Could be a sister or aunt. I hope so. I haven’t been able to find any leads on my own.”
“Good luck.”
“Aren’t you at all interested?”
“Nope.”
“You know, maybe that’s why you can’t settle down, why you’re always out there traveling the roads, searching for something.” She flings her arm toward the street and I can tell she’s pissed by my indifference.
“I’m not searching for anything, Kayla. I’m happy with my life. It’s exactly how I want it. Look, I’m glad you have your happy little white picket fence life. Really, I’m thrilled for you. But stayin’ in one place,” I shake my head, “doesn’t interest me. As for the rest, trying to make a relationship work? Nah. That’s not me. Give me the open road any day.”
“You were always like that,” she says musingly.
“Like what?” I ask like an idiot, because I don’t really want to hear the answer.
“All the foster homes before we were split up. You were always standoffish. Never wanted to make friends or get close.”
“What was the point? We never stayed in one place long, did we?”
“And now you’ve arranged your whole life that way. Never staying anywhere long.”
“Maybe I don’t know how.”
“Bullshit. You’re just as capable of love as I am, and you need people just like the rest of us.”
“I’ve got my brothers for that.”
She rolls her eyes. “The MC? That’s not the same, and you know it. You need a woman, one who has your back no matter what, and a real place to come home to. That’s what its all about, Rafe.”
I shake my head. “Maybe for you. But I don’t need any of that. Maybe I never have.”
“Bullshit.”
I don’t want to argue with her, so I stand. “Give me a hug. I’ve got to get back on the road.”
She rolls her eyes, but stands. “There you go, proving my point.”
I chuckle and pull her in for a hug; her head just reaches to my chin. I pat her back and mutter, “It was good to see you, sis.”
She squeezes me tight. “You, too, brother. Don’t make it so long until next time.”
I nod, but make no promises. The life I lead, promises are hard to keep when it comes to family. I step off her front porch and head to my motorcycle parked at the curb under the shade of a big pecan tree.
“Ride safe, Ballard.” She calls me by our last name, waving.
I nod and fire the bike up, then roar off.
I head toward the interstate, but make a quick stop at a gas station to fill up. Five minutes later, I’m lifting the nozzle from my tank and screwing the cap on when my phone goes off.
I pull it out of my pocket and look down at the screen.
Rock.
I haven’t heard from the president of the Durango Chapter since I saw him last year. I put it to my ear. “Hey, man. How’s Colorado?”
“Fine. Talked to Knuckles at the New Orleans Chapter. He said you were down there last night.”
“Yeah, man. Left out this morning to ride over to Mississippi to see my sister and her new baby. What’s up?”
“How far from the Big Easy are you?”
“About two hours. Why?”
“My daughter’s run off. She’s headed to New Orleans.”
“Hell, Rock, I didn’t know you had a daughter. She run away often?” I ask as visions of a fifteen-year-old flash before my eyes.
“I’ve had to send several of my guys to go find her on more than one occasion. Since her mother died, she’s turned into quite a handful.”
“How old is she?”
“She just turned twenty.
I chuckle. “What do you want me to do about it? She’s an adult.”
“Find her. Bring her home. Do me this favor.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“I tracked my daughter’s phone.”
I whistle. “That’s some fucking stalker shit, Rock. She know you do that?”
“I don’t think so. Don’t give me any grief about it. Someday, if God gives you a daughter, you’ll understand.”
“Bite your tongue, old man.”
He chuckles in my ear. “Let me know when you get close, and I’ll pull her location again.”
“You’re serious about this shit?”
“As a heart attack, brother.”
“So, she checks into some hotel, you want me to just drag her out of there? She with a guy?”
“I don’t know. She might be. Are you headed back this way?”
“Yeah.”
“Do me a solid and bring her ass home.”
“Christ.”
“Memphis, I’ll owe you one.” It’s as close to a please as a badass MC president is going to get.
“Again, the girl’s an adult, Rock. Is she gonna cooperate?”
“Probably not.”
> “Great.”
“I trust you can handle her.”
“Just so you understand, it’s a long fuckin’ way to Colorado.”
“Just so you understand, she’s still my fuckin’ daughter.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Lola—
Katie, Amy, Josie, and I pull into the motel parking lot off Tulane. Katie and I arrived earlier this morning and met up at Amy and Josie’s hotel in the Quarter. I insisted they immediately take me to where Trez was staying.
“You sure this is the place?” I ask, staring up at the dilapidated Capri Motel. It’s got only two levels with a walkway running along the second floor.
“Yep,” Amy replies. “I was just as shocked when the Uber driver pulled in here the other night. I thought for sure he’d made a wrong turn, but then Trez climbed out of the car. I just shook my head and told the driver to take me back to the Quarter.”
“Do you think Trez was messing with you?” I ask.
“He went in room 231.” She points up. “That one there at the top of those stairs.”
I look up. It’s right above the office. My eyes scan the place again. The nightly rate can’t be much, which may be a good sign that he’s still got most of my money. I dip my head and catch Katie’s gaze. “Okay. Wait until I know he’s there, will you?”
“Of course,” she replies from behind the wheel. “I’m not leaving you in this ghetto dive alone.”
“If he’s there, give me a half hour to talk to him and come back.”
“I could go up with you. Maybe I could help,” Amy offers.
“No. It’s better if I go alone.” I can see her deflate with my answer. Amy’s had a secret crush on my brother for years. I just don’t understand how, considering the way he’s treated her. I’m surprised he hasn’t driven her away like he has everyone else. Apparently love dies hard, which is another reason I don’t believe in it. Men can be dicks.
“Why can’t we just wait for you down here?” Katie asks.
“I don’t want to scare him off,” I insist.
Josie is busy tapping on her phone, but glances up to take charge of the situation, as usual. “Look, there’s a Starbucks nine minutes away. I need coffee. We’ll be back as soon as you call or when my Mocha Frappuccino is gone, whichever comes first.”
I smile and nod. “Get me one, too. I’ve got a feeling I’m gonna need it.”
Amy leans out the window, “Tell him I said hello.”
Her puppy love would be cute if it wasn’t so misplaced on my loser brother who I want to kill at the moment.
I walk up the cement steps clinging to the wrought iron railing. The peeling paint is a hideous faded salmon color. I knock tentatively on the door, suddenly wondering if Trez might have a woman inside.
I hear footsteps approach. I’m sure whoever is on the other side of the door is right now peering through the peephole.
“Open up, Trez,” I snap.
The door swings open, and he’s standing bare-chested, a pair of faded jeans hastily pulled on. His face is stony, but it’s easy to see the shock in his widened eyes. His gaze darts down to the parking lot, and I know he’s not looking for my girlfriends; he’s looking for our father and maybe half of the Royal Bastards.
“You alone?”
I shove the door open and push my way inside. “Are you?”
“Yeah.” He closes it and limps over to the small table next to the ratty bed and grabs a pack of smokes, shaking one out and lighting it, then drops to the bed. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“What the hell do you think? Where’s my damn money, Trez?”
He blows out a stream of smoke. “It’s gone.”
“All of it?” I shriek, dread filling my stomach.
“Lost it gambling last night.”
“You what?”
“I had a roll going. I was winning big at the craps table. Then I moved to blackjack and lost it all.”
“You son-of-a-bitch, Trez. It took me years to save that money. Darko was selling me a GTO. I had a sweet deal all worked out.”
“Sorry, sis. But I can win it back. I know I can. I just need you to loan me some more cash.”
“Have you lost your mind? You took it all,” I scream, feeling like my head is about to explode.
He stands and limps to the window to look out, puffing on his smoke and looking shaky as hell.
“What are you on?” I ask.
His head swivels to me. “Nothing. Just some Lortabs I got off some girl. Why? You got something on you?”
“Fuck, no.”
“Can you get me something?”
I arch my brow. Is he serious? “Trez, you need to clean up your act. Get some help with the addiction.” Why I’m bothering to lecture him after what he’s done to me, I have no clue and mentally slap myself for letting myself care even that much.
“I don’t need help.”
“Whatever, do what you want. I’m leaving.”
“No, wait. I’ll get your money back. You can help me.”
“Help you? You’re nuts.”
“But first, I’m starving. You got enough to buy us a couple burgers?”
I huff out a sigh. He’s as thin as some strung-out rock star, which is sad, because Trez always had muscular arms and killer abs. Somehow, I can’t deprive him a meal. “I suppose. Where do you want to go?”
“I’ll run down the street and be right back.” He holds his palm out, and I dig a twenty out of my hip pocket. He goes to grab for it and I hang on, keeping him from pulling it free of my grip. “You bail on me, Trez, I’ll call Dad and tell him what you’ve done.”
“You haven’t already?”
“I thought I’d give you a chance to give the money back before he beats the hell out of you.”
“I’m gonna pay you back, Lola. I swear it. I’ve just got to work out some things first.”
I roll my eyes. I’ll never see that money again.
He slips a shirt on, grabs his car keys and opens the door, pausing to look back at me. “Whopper, no cheese, right?”
I nod, knowing he probably won’t be back.
He winks and limps out the door.
I move to the window and watch him move down the staircase to his beater pickup truck and pull out heading north. He had such a future, and it breaks my heart to see him reduced to this.
I close my eyes.
Don’t let yourself care, Lola. Don’t you dare let yourself care.
My phone rings and I pull it out, glancing at the screen wondering if it’s Darko looking for his money.
Katie.
I put it to my ear. “Hey.”
“Well?”
“He went to get us food, so he said.”
“You think he just said that to run out on you?”
“Most likely, but I don’t think he’s got the money for that. I had to give him the damn twenty to get the food. He looks bad, Katie.”
“You do care.”
“No, I don’t,” I lie, and pace around the room. “Are you heading here now?”
“Yeah, Josie is talking to some guy at the next table. Says he can get us into the House of Blues to see Iron Tribe tonight. I’ll move her along. The guy is probably bullshitting her anyway. That show’s been sold out for months.”
“Okay. See you in a few minutes.” I disconnect.
The room reeks of cigarette smoke and stale beer, so I decide to wait outside. I open the door and come face to face with an attractive man in a suit who looks just as surprised to see me, as I am him. My gaze skates down him. He looks like he could be a Wall Street tycoon except for the two men standing behind him. They look like goons from a mafia movie.
The man smiles and pulls his expensive sunglasses off. “I’m looking for Richard Rockingham. Is he here?”
“Um…” I stall not sure what to say. He moves forward, backing me into the room a step and a chill skitters up my spine. “No, he just went out.”
“Pity we missed him. And yo
u are?”
Before I can answer, one of the goons grabs my purse and pulls my wallet out.
“Hey,” I try to snatch it, but Wall Street guy grabs my arm.
“No need to get excited.” He holds his other hand out, and his goon passes him my driver’s license. His gaze drops from me to it. “Lola Rockingham, Lakeside Drive, Durango, Colorado. You’re a long way from home.” He studies me. “The picture doesn’t do you any justice, my dear.”
“I’m not your dear.”
“So you’re a relation to Richard. Wife perhaps?” He arches a brow. “No? Sister then?”
Being the daughter of a biker has taught me a thing or two about people asking questions. Never tell them anything. So I answer with a question of my own. “And you are?”
“Mason Lockwood. Richard owes me money.”
“Get in line,” I hiss.
That draws a smile from him, and he flashes perfectly straight white teeth. “Be that as it may, I came to collect, and I always get what’s owed.”
I frown. “How’d you meet Richard?”
“He joined a table where I was playing Baccarat. We had an enjoyable conversation, and he came to my place for a private game of poker.”
“He had money for poker?”
“He did indeed. Quite a sum.”
Trez, you lying son-of-a-bitch. “So, he lost it all to you? Then how does he owe you money? Surely you didn’t cover a bet for him.”
“No, of course not. He stole something from me.”
My brow lifts. “What did he take?”
“Never mind what it was, but it was worth a great deal of money.”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
“Holy crap.”
“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” His grip on my arm tightens, and I try to twist free.
“No. You’re hurting me.” And scaring the bejesus out of me.
He finally releases me.
I glance toward the nightstand and see the pack of smokes Trez left behind. I nod toward them. “Mind if I smoke while we wait for him to return?”
Mason Lockwood smiles again. “Be my guest.”