by Harley Stone
My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t made it to a restaurant. Instead, two men had forced me into a van. It happened so fast, I hadn’t even had time to react.
The driver’s face came back to me. He was so damn familiar, yet I still couldn’t place him. He had a gun, and what had he said?
‘Knock her out.’
Oh yeah. I’d been drugged. My gaze shot to my arm, but I couldn’t see anything other than the pale outline in the dark. At least now I understood why my thoughts were so jumbled.
What the fuck did they inject me with?
There was so much shit out there that could harm a baby or even end a pregnancy, that just thinking about the possibilities made me want to beat the shit out of the assholes who’d nabbed me. Or cry. Probably both, since all of a sudden my eyes no longer lacked for moisture. I’d just gotten used to the idea of this baby—just rearranged my entire life for it—and these dipshits had possibly put it at risk. Why? The driver looked too familiar for this to be some random kidnapping, but Eagle was the only one who knew I was in town, and he’d just found out.
Why would anyone want to kidnap me?
Nothing came to mind. All I knew for sure was that if something happened to my child…
No. I couldn’t let myself think about that or I’d be useless. No sense in borrowing trouble when the baby was probably perfectly fine. I needed to keep my wits about me and find my way out of this place, so I could get to a doctor and make sure.
Determined to do just that, I sat up. Pain split through my head, and my stomach revolted. Bile tickled the back of my throat and I swallowed it back, standing as I scanned the space for a toilet or a bucket or something. No luck. My stomach spasmed. I couldn’t hold it anymore. I hurried to the wall, leaned against it for support, bent at the waist, and heaved.
I hadn’t eaten since the Albuquerque airport, and my stomach felt empty, but apparently not too empty. Throat burning and eyes watering, I stayed bent over until I finished. When I righted myself, the room smelled like vomit. Spitting the last of it out, I wiped my mouth on my shoulder and wished for a glass of water.
A sliver of dim light surrounded what had to be a door. On unsteady legs, I shuffled over to it, turned around so it was at my back, and groped for the knob. It took me longer than it should have, but I finally grasped the metal and struggled to turn it from my strange angle. Locked. Beside the door, I could barely make out a light switch. With my nose, I flicked it down and back up, but nothing happened. Disappointed, but not surprised, I carefully skirted the wall, searching for a window or a secret passageway or something.
I was about halfway around the room when the door flung open. Dull light flooded in around the figure of a big man. Stairs led up behind him, confirming my guess that I was probably underground in a basement-type room. I froze at the sight of the man, but he rushed across the room anyway, caging me like I was about to bolt. His sour, sweaty stench assaulted my nose as he sandwiched me against the wall, pressing something into my side.
“Don’t fuckin’ move or I’ll blow your goddamn guts out.”
A gun! The bastard had a fucking gun digging under my ribs. Furious, but sufficiently cowed, I held my breath and tried to appear as non-threatening as possible.
Squeaking noises came from the center of the room, and then light flooded the space. I dropped my head and blinked until my retinas were no longer burning.
“Release her, Joe, she’s not going anywhere.”
The voice was familiar. I focused on it, trying to place it, as the wall of muscle dug his pistol deeper into my side.
“Do I need to remind you that you’re not in charge?” Joe asked.
“Nope. Received your last message loud and clear. Just trying to protect the boss’ investment. Don’t think he’d want her hurt. Not when she’s worth so much.”
Joe seemed to consider this for a moment before extracting his gun from beneath my ribs and stepping back. He kept it trained on me, his scowl dark and hateful. I had no idea how someone I didn’t know could loathe me, but he clearly did. Or maybe he looked at everyone like that? Maybe instead of resting bitch face, he had resting cut-you-up-and-store-you-in-my-freezer face?
“Hello, Princess. Long time, no see.”
My gaze shot to the man standing under the light, as his voice evoked a memory. Two years ago, at the fire station, dark hair, cocky smirk, leering at me over Kim’s head. ‘You must be the princess. If you decide you want to break your big brother’s rules, you come and find me. I’ll show you a good time.’
“Brass?” I asked, certain I must be wrong.
“Nice to see you remember me, babe.”
He’d aged by at least ten years in the past two. His beard was shaggy, his messy hair was greasy, and his filthy jeans and T-shirt hung loosely on him. He’d lost at least twenty pounds that he didn’t have to lose. No wonder I hadn’t recognized him.
“What happened? You look like shit.”
He showed me his teeth. I couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be a smile, a grimace, or a scowl, but it wasn’t pretty. Stained teeth, eyes sunken and dark, pupils dilated. “Your motherfuckin’ brother happened,” he spat, limping forward.
“Link did this to you?” I asked, not believing his declaration for a second. My brother helped people, he didn’t hurt them. Link also didn’t discuss club business with me, so I had no clue what had gone down between him and Brass.
“He kicked me out.”
That made a little more sense. Link was extremely vocal about his stance against drugs, and Brass was clearly on something. “For using?” I asked. “You know the club’s rules on drugs.”
Brass’s face contorted in anger. “I worked my ass off for him, then I took what I deserved! It was just a loan. I would have paid it back.”
Okay then. He was stoned and out of it. He’d kidnapped me and wasn’t making any sense. I needed to calm him down and figure out my role in this beef he had with Link. “I’m sorry he did that to you, but what does it have to do with me? Why am I here? You said something about an investment…?”
“Because he took everything from me, and now he’s gonna pay.”
Brass’s words held so much menace and loathing that a shiver of dread went up my spine. Link and I weren’t super close anymore, but I knew he’d do anything for me. He’d also be devastated if something happened to me, especially at the hands of a man who he brought into the club. “What do you mean, pay?”
He bared his teeth at me again. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Princess, I’m just asking for money. A hundred thousand dollars seems like a reasonable fee for the return of an entitled little bitch. As long as they get the money to the drop point and I can pay off my debt, everything will be fine.”
He was ransoming me. On the plus side, that meant I was valuable, and he wouldn’t hurt me. Hopefully. I still wasn’t so sure about Joe. But on the minus side, Link would never agree to pay a ransom. Not that he couldn’t come up with the money or didn’t think my life was worth it, but there was a reason the US didn’t negotiate with terrorists. Terrorists were going to commit acts of terror, regardless of how much they were paid. It sounded like Brass had dug himself a drug-lined financial hole and he saw this as a viable shovel to dig himself out. If Link gave him the money, it would make the club look weak and vulnerable to other acts of terror. And Brass would probably just do it again after he blew through the ransom.
Besides, Brass had kidnapped me and shot me full of something. Some things were sacred… ol’ ladies, wives, sisters, moms, grandmas. Nobody fucked with them. Every biker in the club would hunt down Brass to make sure he paid for this offense.
Somewhere deep in his drug-addled mind, Brass had to know that. He had to know that there was only one way this would end. Regardless of what happened to me, I was looking at a dead man. He had to know it, but he was desperate enough to take the chance. That probably had something to do with the bruises on his arm and the way he favored his right leg.
“What’s Joe’s role in all of this?” I asked, nodding at the thug who still had his gun trained on me.
“Mind your own damn business, bitch,” Joe said, backhanding me across the face.
My head snapped back with the blow, bouncing off the wall behind me. Stars danced in my vision and the coppery-sweet scent of blood filled my nostrils. Something slid down my lip. Leaning forward I watched blood drip onto the concrete floor.
“What the fuck, Joe?” Brass asked. “I told you if you hurt her, the whole club will hunt you down.”
“I’m not afraid of a bunch of pussy-ass, do-gooder bikers.”
The pain in my head was making me woozy again, so I braced my ass against the wall and tried to keep myself still.
Brass gave Joe a look that was loaded with both fear and irritation. He didn’t like Joe, but he was scared of him. Can’t say I blamed Brass, but it was good information to have. “I owe Joe’s boss some money. I came up with a plan to use your brother’s bitch to get it, but I can’t seem to get her away from her babysitters. I headed back to the club, thinking I could nab one of the Copper Penny bartenders, but then you came strolling out of the front door by yourself. You saved my hide, and for that, I’m very fuckin’ grateful.” He glanced at his cell phone. “We’re giving your brother until ten p.m. to get the funds together, and then we’ll call him with the drop point. As soon as we have the money, you’ll be free to go, Joe’s boss will be paid off, and we’ll all live happily ever-fuckin’-after.”
Brass must have been hitting acid, because he was permafried if he believed that’s how this would go down.
“Come on, Joe,” Brass said, reaching up to unscrew the light bulb. They were going to leave me alone in darkness again.
Keeping me in sight, Joe backed toward the door as if I might somehow unbind my wrists and dive at him.
Desperate for a little more information about where I was, I blurted out, “Wait!”
“What?” Brass asked, pausing.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
They both eyed me suspiciously.
“Please. I’ll behave, but I really need to pee. It’s not like I’m some threat, especially not with my hands bound.”
He considered me a bit longer before waving me forward. “All right. Come on, but don’t try anything. Joe won’t kill you, but he just might make you wish he did.”
Joe grinned, sending another involuntary shudder of fear up my spine. Waving me forward with his gun, I walked between the two of them. At the top of the stairs, they opened another door, leading into a hallway. We appeared to be inside an older house. The carpet was almost as bare as the walls and I could hear a television from somewhere to my left. We turned right and took a few steps before Brass stopped in front of a door.
“In you go. Hurry up.”
“My hands… I can’t unzip my pants.”
Brass stepped forward, unbuckled my jeans and slid my zipper down, his fingers brushing against my panties. I winced, and he bared his teeth at me again.
“Can you please just cut my wrists free?” I asked. “I’ll need to pull my pants down and wipe.”
“I’m not cutting the zip ties off, but if you’d like, I can come in and help you out.” His gaze raked over my body and I had to suppress a shudder.
“Thanks, but I’ll manage.”
Laughing, he pushed open the door and turned on the light. “We’ll be right in the hallway. Don’t try anything stupid,” he said before closing me in the bathroom.
I let out a breath and surveyed the small bathroom as I stepped through my arms to bring my bound wrists in front of me. Tattered linoleum flooring stretched from the door to the dingy bathtub insert across from the sink and toilet. The window was small with privacy glass. Hurrying over, I slid it open and peeked outside. It was still warm outside, but the sun was setting. I’d probably been down in the basement for about four hours or so.
“Hurry up in there,” Brass said, tapping on the door.
I knew I could use the friction of my shoelace to cut my hands free, but it would take time. And it was useless since I would never fit through that window. Discouraged, I slid it closed, worked my jeans down, and went to the bathroom. As soon as I finished, I washed my hands and rinsed the blood off my face and the vomit out my mouth before taking a quick drink.
Glancing in the mirror was a mistake. My right cheek was swollen and red, my lip was split, and I looked dazed and confused. The fuzzy darkness around the edges of my vision told me I probably had a concussion, but looking at my reflection, I was sure of it.
I had no clue how I was going to get out of this mess, so I sure as hell hoped Link and Eagle were working on something.
Eagle
HAVING MOVED TAP and Morse to the large meeting room we referred to as the chapel (since that’s where we held church), Link was alone in his office when I returned. Without knocking, I marched right in and plopped a duffel bag full of cash on his desk. I hadn’t been able to find Naomi—nobody had—so I’d made a quick stop by my bank before it closed and withdrew the hundred-thousand to cover her ransom.
“What’s this?” Link asked, scowling at the bag.
“You know damn well what it is,” I replied.
He zipped open the bag and looked inside. Nothing but stacks of unmarked bills. “Fuck, Eagle. You know this isn’t how we work. We don’t pay people off.”
“I’m not planning on paying Brass off. I’ll use this to get Naomi away from him, then I’ll take his ass out. Make sure he doesn’t try this shit again. If I get caught, you need to say I went rogue… handled it on my own without the club’s permission or help.” That’s why it needed to be my money. I didn’t want any of this to touch the club and destroy everything Jake and Link had worked so hard to build.
Link seemed to consider me for a moment before peering back into the bag. “This is a hell of a lot of money. What if you lose it all? Everything. Naomi and the cash.”
Did he really think I cared about the dough? “I haven’t had a goddamn thing to spend my money on in six years. I finally do, and I’m not gonna fuckin’ lose her. I’m bringing Naomi and our child back if it costs me every cent and every drop of blood I have. You feel me?”
“You think I want her out there with Brass, wrapped up in whatever shit he’s gotten himself into?”
“No. I think your hands are tied, Prez.”
His jaw ticked. He didn’t like that one bit, but it was true. Link had important responsibilities that he couldn’t just throw away whenever someone was in danger. “What’s your plan?”
“I’d rather you didn’t know. Plausible deniability and all that shit.”
“If you think I’m letting you out of here without knowing what you’re up to, you’re high, Eagle. I’m responsible for you, goddammit.”
Link had been a Special Forces commander. He’d been leading a team for as long as anyone could remember, and he was still at it. Only now his team was bigger and wore cuts and drove bikes. Seeing no way out of sharing my plan with him, I broke down and spilled it all.
“I’m gonna steal a tracking device from Tap… one of those thin ones that I can slip it into a stack of bills in case they put the money in a different bag. If I steal it, this shit doesn’t touch Tap, either. I’ll do the exchange and get Naomi to safety, then I’ll track down Brass and whoever he’s working with and take them out. When’s Brass supposed to be calling you with the drop point?”
Link glanced at his watch. “About three and half hours.” He rubbed his beard, and I could tell he was thinking over my plan. “Not a bad plan, but you failed to utilize your two greatest strengths.”
“What’s that?”
“Your brothers and your rifle. Seek and destroy ops aren’t your MO, Eagle. That’s the kind of shit that Havoc or I would do. You scout out threats and snipe them off before they endanger the team. I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re gonna do alone.”
I didn’t like him insinuating I co
uldn’t handle this shit. “Whatever’s necessary.”
“You’re assuming Brass is running the show, but he’s a goddamn tweaker now. You saw the guys who picked up Naomi. They’re someone’s muscle. Brass ain’t shit in the whole scheme of things. Someone’s pulling his strings and whoever it is has targeted us. They know who we are, and they think we’ll just roll over and take it.” He zipped up the bag. “You’re not doing this.”
Shocked, I stared at him. This was his sister we were talking about. I knew he was busting his ass to find her—calling in favors all around the city—but why would he stop me from paying for her release? “I know you’re pissed at me, but I’m trained, and I’m quite capable…”
He held up a hand. “This has nothing to do with you and me. This is about her safety, yours, too, and my role as the president of this fuckin’ club.”
I was trying to keep his nose clean and get Naomi out safely, and the bastard was pulling rank on me. “No offense, Prez, but I don’t exactly need your permission to do this. I have the cash, and I will damn well take care of my woman and child.”
My woman. That’s twice I’d used that term in front of Link, making a public claim on Naomi. She was my woman. She’d invited me to be a part of her life, and although she hadn’t given me time to accept her invitation before she ran off and got herself taken, I sure as hell planned to give her my answer when I got her back.
His eyes flared with anger. “Goddammit, Eagle, no you won’t!” he roared. “You’re not a lone wolf anymore, and Brass is my problem. I brought him into this club and I was too proud, thinking I was real hot shit as the incoming president. Couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to what was happening right under my nose. Brass’s problems didn’t spring up overnight—and even you tried to tell me about them—but I didn’t listen to shit.”
Nobody expected perfection from Link, but Brass had been his first prospect, and he’d turned a blind eye when a few of the club whores complained about Brass. He should have listened… should have put Brass in check long ago and maybe we wouldn’t have this problem. But, it was well past time to play the blame game. What was done was done, and we needed to handle the repercussions.