Dillon's Universe: A Perdition MC Novel

by Isabel Wroth

  "I waited, peeking through the disgusting curtains for any signs we were being followed, certain I could hear roaches scuttling through the walls. The woman came out of the bathroom and immediately thanked me for choosing soft clothes and toiletries that smelled clean and made her feel human again after what her husband had done to her.

  “It made me realize the small gestures, the little comforts we take for granted, can be the difference between falling apart and finding the strength to keep going. Which is why I fell apart when you put together all the clothes and toiletries for me back in Dallas.

  "All the million and one other little things you've done since then have made a bigger difference than I ever thought possible. Did I thank you for that?”

  Nasa had stopped working and turned to fully face her, a hot, searing look of understanding shining in his eyes.

  “You just did. Big time.” He smiled at her in a way that sent her insides into complete meltdown before turning back to his bay of computers with a shake of his head. “I get it now.”

  “Get what?”

  “The name of your foundation. Monumentally. All the homes you flip and secure, they're the sanctuaries you wish Tally could have found.”

  Not one single person in the world, not even Dr. White, knew or had guessed her college roommate was the inspiration behind the foundation's name.

  Not one person, until this moment.

  “It wasn't just for her,” Dillon admitted softly, feeling exposed all over again. Seen by someone who understood her the way no one else ever had before.

  Nasa went from staring at his screens to standing unexpectedly, making Dillon flinch and hunch protectively around Harper. The reflex was instinctual, and Nasa definitely noticed.

  A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he moved slowly, intentionally toward her, lifting his hand to curl around the back of Dillon's neck to hold her steady as he bent to touch his forehead to hers.

  The fragrance of his soap, the scent of leather, the natural aroma of his skin, and the heat of his body instantly enveloped her. His breath washed across her cheek, sweet from the pear jelly beans he'd eaten.

  “I'm sorry for everything you've been through over the past few weeks, and I promise you, Ghost will pay for taking your sanctuary away from you,” he told her quietly. “But I'm not sorry he sent you here to me.”

  The muscles in her belly clenched and twisted even as her heart gave a whimsical flutter.

  “I don't feel very sorry either.”

  “Bas-oh-rexia.” He sighed with deep satisfaction, drawing the word into one long purr.

  Just when Dillon thought he might turn his face ever so slightly to kiss her, a beep sounded from the bay of computers and the moment of breathless anticipation was gone. “The footage is ready. Are you good to see this right now?”

  There he went again, being careful not to put something in front of her that might trigger a panic attack.

  Not one person in her life had ever been so considerate of her feelings, except for the therapist she paid to help her.

  “Honestly, I'm not sure, but it's not going to stop me from watching.”

  “Why do you want to watch?” Nasa asked with genuine curiosity.

  Still, there was hostility in her voice, her anger focused squarely on these assholes who kept breaching her previously impenetrable fortresses.

  “Because I built that shelter to help women like me and Tally, and if someone came in there waving their dick around threatening the people under my roof, I want to see it.”

  “Fair enough,” Nasa grunted, releasing his hold on her to sit back down, whipping back the armrest closest to her before holding out his arm in welcome.

  When Dillon just looked at him in confusion, he patted his lap. “Come sit. We'll watch together.”

  Another hard punch of arousal nailed Dillon square in the belly. “You want me to sit on your lap?”

  “I do. You can roll another chair over if you want to, but I'd much prefer being able to feel you tense up and shut down the video before you have an attack.”

  So reasonable, and yet he was doing that thing with his voice. His Dom voice, as Dr. White had called it. The deeper tone that made Dillon simultaneously light up and melt.

  He wasn't commanding her to sit. Nasa was telling her what he wanted and why, giving her the option to get her own chair. Because of his consideration, Dillon opted to carefully settle herself into his lap.

  She could feel the solid muscles of his thighs under her butt, and when he curled his arm around her belly to help settle her against his chest, Dillon sank into his embrace with the same sort of pleasure she got from being submerged in a hot bath. Relaxed, and surrounded by warmth.

  Once they were situated comfortably, Nasa scooted them up to his desk and hit the space bar.

  “I still can't believe how easy it was for you to hack in,” Dillon muttered, feeling morally wrong about watching Patti coming in behind the check-in desk, bustling around, logging onto the computer, taking some notes, doing what Dillon suspected was her usual midday routine.

  The touch of Nasa's lips on the spot behind Dillon's ear sent shivers racing through her.

  “It's easy for me because this is what I do. The average person wouldn't be able to hack in, or even think to utilize the Wi-Fi the way I did.”

  Dillon huffed, irritated yet impressed, already wondering how she could protect the shelter from people like him in the future.

  “You said you can tell if someone else has been fucking around in there?”

  “Yep, the program is getting a thorough scan while we watch. So far, it’s clean. Here come the assholes, and I'd say it's a good thing you made a point to go with electromagnetic locks on the inner doors.”

  She nodded, able to clearly see the faces of the men who pushed through the outer door that was left unlocked during the day, something Dillon had argued with Patti about, but was overruled as Patti pointed out the building was a sanctuary, not a prison.

  The men who'd come to Dillon's house had worn masks, so she hadn't seen the lower half of their faces, but the grungy white shirts and the leather vests proclaiming them Leviathans were impossible to mistake. Dillon looked at the malice and aggression on their weathered, pockmarked faces, recognizing the shape of the man she'd killed.

  “Still okay?” Nasa asked softly, his palm spread wide on her belly, his thumb stroking back and forth just above her navel.

  Dillon watched the man she'd shot in the chest slam his hand and a picture against the thick safety-glass, clearly threatening Patti. First with words, then with a gun.

  The whole time he was being a complete asshole, his buddy did his best to break into the shelter through the secondary door.

  Thankfully, the only way to get inside the building was to be buzzed in from the other side.

  There were no keypads, no card reader slides, no deadbolts or keyholes. Just one smooth, three-inch solid steel door, magnetized to the frame with ten thousand pounds of resistance.

  “I'm fine. It was their choice to come after me.”

  “Yes, it was,” Nasa agreed gravely, his arm settling to envelop both she and Harper in a protective embrace.

  It made Dillon give a mean little smirk to see Patti calmly smack her hand against the red button that activated the lock down protocol.

  A steel plate slid down over the check-in window and the main door locked in place, trapping both bikers inside.

  They bounced around inside the narrow entryway like rubber balls, kicking and hammering at the doors, throwing their shoulders against the glass, striking at it with the butts of their guns, probably blistering the air with curses if their enraged expressions were anything to go by. Two minutes later the cops were on scene to arrest both men.

  “If they were arrested, how did they get out so fast?”

  “I'll have that answer for you in a minute. Let's get a better look at the photo, eh?” Nasa leaned forward with his arms outstretched to work at his keyboard, fli
pping from camera to camera until they were looking out on the lobby from Patti's point of view.

  Nasa paused the video to enlarge and enhance the picture slammed up against the glass.

  “There isn't any sound to your security system, but Patti reported both men were looking for this woman.”

  Dillon's mouth suddenly felt drier than the desert. It took her a few tries to form words, and her voice came out raw and raspy when she finally got there.

  “I think I know what Ghost meant about me having strayed into the Leviathan's territory.”

  “Tell me,” Nasa urged calmly.

  “Three weeks ago, Patti called and asked if I could drive a girl to Oklahoma City. She was brought into the shelter by one of the nurses in the network, and according to Patti, it was a high-risk situation where the girl had to get out of town immediately, completely off the radar.

  “One of the reasons I chose that particular building is because it has a basement and shares a wall with the warehouse next door. That, and the main entrance is a block and a half away from the shelter's front door.

  “I knocked the basement wall out during the renovation, put in a secret door, and if we need to move people in a hurry, we can exit out the opposite building with no one being the wiser.”

  Nasa made a proper sound of appreciation, his arms still bracketed around her as he brought up an aerial photo of the building.

  “Very nice. Anyone looking at the shelter entrance has no line of sight on your secondary exit. You didn't use the Bronco, right?”

  “Of course not,” Dillon scoffed. “I have a little RV with a secret compartment I keep at a storage facility on the other side of the city. I drive the Bronco into a storage unit, drive out in the RV, and into the warehouse garage.

  “My passenger can ride in the back or lay down, depending on how badly they're hurt, and tuck into the secret compartment if we get pulled over.

  "It's happened a few times when I'm on the road at night, but as soon as the cops see Elka, they don't look much further.”

  “I can't imagine why.” Nasa chuckled and gave Elka an appreciative look.

  Elka's tongue lolled out happily, looking back and forth between them because she knew she was being talked about.

  “So, the girl. You get a name? Any details from her?”

  Dillon shook her head, thinking back to that night and how scared the girl was. Hurt, jumping at shadows, shaking so hard Dillon swore she could hear the rail thin teen's bones rattle.

  “I never ask them their name. It's safer that way for both of us, but she definitely looked younger than nineteen, badly beaten, strung out.

  "Patti said the nurse gave her a list of all the girl's injuries, and considering the amount of damage she sustained, I'm surprised she was even mobile.

  "I do remember she had green eyes. Pale, hard to see because both her eyes were nearly swollen shut. Her nose was broken, her face all swollen up, lips cut.

  “The only thing she said to me was thank you and let me tuck her into the bed in the back of the RV. She slept the whole way to Oklahoma and didn't wake up until I stopped at an RV park just outside of the city. It's owned by an elderly couple in the network.

  “They knew I had a passenger because I don't stay there otherwise, but they never saw her. We spent the night in a slip with tree cover, and in the morning, another transporter parked their RV beside us to make the hand-off.

  "I helped the girl get from my RV to theirs, sanitized my rig, then Elka and I spent the weekend at the lake nearby.”

  Nasa listened attentively, his hand once again settling on her belly, the warmth of his breath moving distractingly across her ear.

  “So as far as you know, the only time anyone would have seen her would be as she came in and out of the hospital, then when she entered the shelter, yes?”

  “As far as I know, yes.”

  He gave a thoughtful hum, his fingers tapping out a rhythm on her belly. “I'm going to need the names of that elderly couple with the RV park, and the nurse who brought the girl in.”

  She asked why, fearing she already knew the answer. Nasa drew in a long, deep breath that pushed his chest tighter against hers, the vibration of his voice buzzing against her body.

  “The Leviathans' knew where to look for this girl, and somehow they connected her to you. So far, the only people who had that information is limited to Patti, the nurse, and the RV park owners.

  “Patti is obviously still alive and kicking, but I want to check and make sure the others are alright. Full disclosure, I intend to dig into their background, their financials, and their phone records to find out if any of them steered the Leviathans your way.”

  Her denial was instant, refusing to believe anyone involved in protecting that girl would have talked.

  “They wouldn't do that.”

  Nasa's voice was gentle with understanding, but it didn't detract from the truth he gave her. “I'm not making any assumptions, but I'm not about to rule out their involvement until I have proof.”

  Dillon found she had no comeback handy to refute Nasa's statement. The seeds of doubt he planted grew quickly, and far too easily for her liking.

  She knew every single person involved in Vanguard had someone in their life who'd been a victim of domestic violence, or they’d been a victim themselves. It was impossible for Dillon to imagine they would every betray one of their own, or a victim to their abuser.

  But then again, was it really so hard to believe?

  Ten years ago, Dillon hadn't considered someone inside Vanguard might have betrayed her to Styles. The man was FBI.

  She'd assumed he had some omnipotent way of having found out about Dillon helping his family escape him.

  That he had some spy network, surveillance on his home, or access to an analyst to track his wife's movements, and that person somehow identified Dillon.

  For the second time, Dillon was caught up in someone else's horror story through Vanguard. Because of their dedication to protecting victims of domestic violence, Dillon hadn't ever thought to look at the people she interacted with.

  Trusting the other Vanguardians in the network would protect her identity and her safety the way she protected theirs? How incredibly naive.

  “You're absolutely right,” Dillon finally said, careful not to jostle Harper as she got to her feet. The relief she'd felt in playing games with the wives of Perdition was gone. Once again, Dillon felt a nearly overwhelming sense of isolation and extreme vulnerability.

  “Everything I'm doing right now is to protect you and the people under this roof. You know that, don't you?” Nasa asked, but Dillon was so embarrassed by how stupid she'd been, she couldn't meet his gaze.

  Dillon rubbed her cheek against Harper's, using the movement to hide her expression.

  “I do. I'm sorry if I seem ungrateful. It's been a long day, and I'm not thinking straight.”

  She quickly rattled off the names of the people she'd interacted with to get the teenage girl to safety, each name rolling off her tongue like broken glass, wondering if they'd been the one to give away some detail that led the Leviathans and Ghost back to her.

  Even though it felt like a betrayal to expose them, down to the marrow of her bones, she had to know. Not for herself, but for the victims who trusted Vanguard to get them to safety.

  “You do what you have to and let me know if there's anything I need to do about that missing person’s report.”

  The wheels of his chair squeaked softly as Nasa stood up, not allowing her a graceful retreat with what little pride Dillon had left.

  “The background checks can wait for a while. It's time for dinner.” Nasa's hand settled on her waist, and Dillon didn't fight him when he urged her into motion.

  “I'm not really hungry.” She sighed, every step suddenly so heavy, it felt as though she had concrete blocks strapped to her feet.

  Smooth as could be, Nasa went from touching her waist to wrapping his arm around her, supporting her as they clim
bed up the stairs together.

  Elka went ahead like she always did, but this time, Dillon was already at the top by the time Elka woofed the all clear.

  “You don't feel like eating,” Nasa corrected her, “but you're going to, because no one turns down tater-tot casserole and brisket from Opie’s. It's a rule. Besides, we've got to clap when Top awards Lyon his pennies.”

  Clap they did for a proud boy with barbecue sauce all over his grinning face, who was a whole four dollars and eighty-five cents richer.

  The brisket was amazing, and the tater-tot casserole was so deliciously comforting it made everything hurt less. To the point where it didn't even phase Dillon that she was eating something she hadn't cooked herself.

  The habit was all about having absolute control over her environment, but right now, Dillon was simply too tired to care.

  Besides, it wasn't like Nasa would let her eat anything that might hurt her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  According to the Dallas Homicide report, Nurse Portia Thomas died four days before Ghost made his move on Dillon.

  The investigation led the cops to believe Portia had been the victim of a home invasion gone wrong, and looking at the autopsy report, her death hadn't been easy.

  She'd drowned in her own blood after one of her broken ribs had punctured a lung.

  Her killers left DNA all over her from the beatdown they'd delivered in order to get information out of her, and it took the cops seventy-two hours to trace the DNA back to the same pair of colostomy bags who busted into the shelter.

  By that time, Dillon and Elka had seen to it that Lou Burns, aka Twister, and Scott Vitali aka Rhino, were no longer a threat to anyone.

  Portia's case would go unsolved, but at least her killers weren't walking free anymore.

  Nasa dug deeper into Twister and Rhino's background to find they were low-level Leviathan foot soldiers out of Florida.

  Ghost must have recalled the out of state chapters to consolidate what manpower he had left, and was no doubt recruiting any local talent he could find.