I roll my eyes. Now I have to be nice to him because he’s funny.
Tracker closes the door and steps back. Butch pulls out of the parking space next to mine and I watch Tracker in the side mirror as we pull out of the lot. He stands tall next to Hawk even though he’s a few inches shorter than the bigger man. We turn down the drive that skirts the side of my building and he’s gone from sight.
I stare out the windshield. Not having Tracker at my side makes me feel different about everything that’s going on and it makes me realize something.
I trusted him longer than I knew I did. For no good reason either.
Almost from the start I knew Evan meant it when he said he would protect me. As a result I haven’t been diligent myself, believing he would take care of me. But now I feel different. Is it because he’s not at my side for the first time in over a week? Or is it something else?
The same something I couldn’t pinpoint earlier.
“You and Tracker seem to be getting along well.” Butch’s voice is deep and gravely. Rough. Not unpleasant, just not the smooth timbre I’m used to hearing from Evan.
“Uh-huh.” Why do I feel suspicious of him all the sudden? Without Tracker to tell me how to feel I’m questioning everyone and everything.
Except him.
And he trusts Butch.
Enough to let me ride off with him alone.
Which is great but I’m going to reserve judgment until I get to work in one piece.
Butch slows to a stop at a red light and turns to me. “Tracker isn’t like most of the people living this life.”
“That’s good to know.” I watch Butch closely, trying to get a read on him since I haven’t worried as much as I should about him. I study his clothes. The watch on his wrist. The single tattoo on his arm.
He shifts in his seat and looks away.
Interesting.
I know Tracker said to trust him. That he would take care of me and I believe he will do everything he can.
I also believe I’m not the kind of girl who blindly lets a man tell me what to do. Even though I somehow forgot that recently.
I’m not being defiant. I’m not going to revolt against the small bit of footing I’ve accidentally allowed Evan to have in my life. But it won’t hurt a thing if I’m prepared to hold my own and that starts by paying better attention to what’s happening around me instead of having my head in the sand. Or up my ass depending on how you look at things.
A few minutes later Butch pulls into the faculty lot at the university. I expect him to drop me off at the doors but instead he parks.
“What are you doing?” I point to the glass entry. “You can just drop me off.”
Butch shakes his head. “Nope. I don’t want to die today.” He pulls a leather bag from the back seat and climbs out. I open my door and push up from the low vehicle, smoothing the back of my skirt as I shut the door. I start across the parking lot toward the doors, not looking to see if Butch is following me.
“Kerri.”
Ugh. My brain can’t handle this today.
Nelson slow jogs toward me in his plaid suit coat and tie. “I’m glad I caught you.” He looks around quickly. “I wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”
“You mean you wanted to make sure the man you were going to let abduct me didn’t murder me.” I keep walking, tugging my work bag higher on my shoulder.
“Well, I mean, I knew he didn’t murder you. I saw you at work the next day.” Nelson’s feet skip as he tries to keep pace with me. “I saw those men that were looking for you and I wanted to be sure you weren’t in some kind of trouble.”
I stop and turn to face him. “What men?”
He looks taken aback. “Well the men that looked like that other guy.” He leans in. “Like criminals.”
I glance around the parking lot, making a slow sweep with my eyes. Butch is a decent clip away near the doors sitting on a bench. Well out of earshot. “Where did you see them?”
“Here. I mean inside. Around your office.” Nelson’s face goes white. “Oh my God.” He steeples his hands over his mouth. “Are they criminals?”
That’s the problem I’m currently having myself.
I wanted to forget they are criminals. To pretend my old life wasn’t sucking me back in and pulling me under to drown in the same past I fought to escape.
I look Nelson in the face and lie to him. “Nope.” I force a smile. “Thank you for your concern though.”
I spin on my heel and walk to the doors, ignoring Butch as he eases off the bench and follows me inside. I unlock my office and immediately open the door to my classroom and flip on the lights. I point into the room. “Should I assume you’re planning on sitting in on my classes today?”
“I go where you go.” Butch wanders into the classroom and sits as far back as he can, dropping his bag on the table and fishing out a book. He leans back and flips it open to the bookmarked spot and starts reading.
These fucking bikers are not at all what I remember.
And I’m not sure that’s a good thing.
11
I STARE UP at the first home I ever had. I’ve only been away from the large two-story building for two weeks but it feels like forever. I may not live there anymore but it was still an important part of my life. It’s the home base for all the club’s activities since a high number of the members still live there. It’s where we gather. Where we meet up before riding. Where we are given orders.
And it’s where we were all first brought when Kerri’s dad recruited us. Where we learned to be brothers.
“How many are here?” I look over at Butch. He’s staring up at the house the same way I am. He’s one of the few current members who was over twenty when he joined. He’s also one of the few who sought the club out.
He counts the motorcycles lined under a long carport. “At least fifteen.”
Most of the younger members still only have a bike to get around. It’s the first thing Kerri’s dad does now when he’s trying to convince a kid to join. He buys them a bike. It’s usually the first time anyone’s ever given them anything. It’s the beginning of the debt he reminds you is yours. It’s how he controls you. It’s how he has gotten as far as he has.
The guilt of lost boys who just want someplace to belong.
“Do we have any idea where they stand?” The balance in the club is shifting like quicksand. The men who came in around the time I did are older and wiser then when the head of a bike club was able to woo their loyalty with a motorcycle and a warm bed. There are at least ten of us. Ten men questioning everything we thought we knew about King and The Knights.
And we’re angry.
But we’re not the only side to the story. Some of my brothers don’t see things the way we do. They still want to believe what Kerri’s dad does is right instead of seeing the truth in what King does.
Butch presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head. “That’s the million dollar question, my friend.”
We have to be careful. Between the turf war King’s never-ending greed started and the tension among the brothers, there’s a real chance someone could get hurt tonight. But we can’t wait. Something has to be done before King can launch us into an all-out war, either with another club or with each other.
“Let’s take it real easy then.” I start up the sidewalk to the plain cement building hidden in an industrial area at the edge of town. It looks like a warehouse, and it is. Just not for supplies of the normal type.
This is where King keeps his human supplies.
The kids he woos from the streets, from poverty, from juvie, from boys homes. He gives them things they never dreamed of. Showering them with praise and attention.
But the devil always calls in his favors. And this demon keeps calling.
Butch opens the door and I step through it into the smoky air of the main living area. It was the part I hated about living here, even from the beginning. The stale stink of King’s habit permeates ever
ything in the building. Just like the darkness I know is inside him.
“What in the hell are you two motherfuckers doing here?” Kerri’s dad sits in his recliner, a cigarette dangling from his mouth and a beer resting on his leg. He snarls in my direction. “Where is my fuckin’ daughter?”
See, that’s the part of this that doesn’t make sense to me. I didn’t even know King had a daughter. Not until I was ordered to leave my post as a sort of private investigator for the club and go an hour away to protect her. Why is he suddenly so worried about Kerri’s safety? Is it some sort of twisted sense of honor?
No. It isn’t.
That’s not the kind of man King is. He honors one person and one person only.
Himself.
“She’s with Hawk.” I walk across the room, feigning an ease I don’t feel in my old home. “I figured you’d be okay with it since you sent him.” I sit down on the couch between two of the newer members of the club, an eighteen-year-old King found in a drug house and a twenty-year-old the old man bailed out of an assault charge. He brought them both here and took them under his wing, just like he did all of us.
I lean back against the sofa and spread my arms across the back. “I was missing this place. Wanted to stop by and visit.”
King eyes me from his throne, gulping down a swallow of his beer. “In that case I’m glad to see you boys.”
Boys. That’s what he calls us. His boys. Now I realize it’s another small way he maintains control of a group of men used to fighting for everything they have. He instills a sense of belonging and brotherhood none of us has had before.
It’s careful. It’s calculated. It’s by design.
“Have you heard anything else from The Horsemen?” I keep my tone as casual as the situation warrants.
King looks around the group gathered in the living area. “No.” He flips the lever on the side of his leather recliner and sits up. He holds his empty bottle out to one of the young men near him. “Take this in and get me another, son.”
I swallow down my anger at what he’s doing. What he’s always done, as long as I’ve known him at least. That’s around the time the older members of the club started leaving, ducking out for one reason or another, leaving King a skeleton of a club to preside over.
That’s when he changed tactics.
He leans forward in his seat. “You fucking my daughter, Tracker?”
The question seems to come out of nowhere but I’ve known the old man too long to think it really does. I don’t know what game he’s playing and I don’t want to play. Not when it comes to Kerri.
But I have to if I want to figure out how to save the club that saved me. It wasn’t King that saved me the day he found me living on the street. It was the brothers I made. Like Butch.
I lift an eyebrow at his question as I debate my options. I can’t say no. He won’t believe it. I have to give him something he will believe.
“I tried.” I shrug. “She wasn’t having it.”
King sneers out a snort. “Bitch doesn’t know men are the ones who make the decisions.”
I expected him to be pleased. No one wants to hear someone like me is fucking their daughter. I figured that even included him. But King doesn’t look happy to hear his daughter turned me down.
He looks pissed. He nods to Butch’s position by the door. “What about you? You fuck her?”
Butch’s eyes stay on King. “No, sir.”
King drops his elbows to his knees and wipes one hand down his face, cupping the length of his beard as he drags it down the long wild gray mass. “So you’re telling me neither of you boys has a thing for my daughter?”
Now Butch looks at me. Our eyes meet for a second before snapping back to King as he stands to pace. “Is that why you just left her with Hawk to come fuckin’ hang out here? Because you don’t really give a shit what happens to her?”
“Of course we care what happens to her.” I keep my voice low and even, hoping it will keep him from launching over the edge he’s been toeing for the past few months. I don’t feel like getting knifed tonight and right now I would bet Butch and I are outnumbered by young guns who still feel a sense of loyalty toward the old man for pulling them from their shit lives and tricking them into another shit life. One that isn’t even their own.
It’s his.
“She’s your daughter King, and we want her to be safe. That’s why I had you assign Butch to help me. That’s why Hawk is there. We all want to protect her.”
King stops pacing and stares at me. I don’t flinch under the hard line of his gaze as he sizes me up. “Then I suppose I should thank you.” He snaps his fingers and one of the younger men stands up from his seat. King’s eyes don’t leave me as he leans into the kid’s ear and gives him an order loud enough for me to hear. “Go get Tracker one of the girls.”
I don’t fuck the misses. Never have. It’s something King should know and that means one thing.
He’s testing me.
And I’m going to fail.
“He doesn’t have time for that shit.” Butch pushes off the spot of wall he’s been leaned against since we came in. “Hawk made us promise to be back before ten.”
I hold my breath as Butch’s lie hangs in the air. It was a big risk to take. Especially since we’re not sure who’s on our side and who’s not.
“What’s he got going on?” King snorted. “Maybe he’s the one fucking my daughter.” He stands tall and tips his head back before landing the blow that almost takes me down. “Maybe he wants to be sure you’ll be back in time to watch.”
It takes everything I have not to react. Not to punch the motherfucker in the face for what he’s doing. For whatever game he’s playing with all of us.
Now I see why The Horsemen are pushing back. Word’s getting around that King is losing it. The clubs he’s been systematically pushing out of their territories for the past ten years have been waiting for a chance like this.
I shrug. “As long as I don’t have to touch his dick I’m game.” I almost choke on the words but they come out clear and strong. As indifferent as I can make them.
Butch opens the door and nods for me to leave first, probably because he can tell how close I am to ruining everything. I take my time, swatting a couple of the newest recruits on the back as I leave. “See you boys later.”
I suck fresh air into my lungs as I amble down the sidewalk, fishing my key from the pocket of my jeans. I run one hand through my hair as I resist the urge to run to my bike and break every law to get to Kerri’s apartment and make sure she’s okay. That I didn’t just leave her with one of them.
I pull out my phone and dial her number. It goes to voicemail.
“What do you know about Hawk?” I don’t look at Butch. I can’t.
“I guess we’ll find out.” Butch swings one leg over his bike and looks at me. “Can she hold her own if—”
I hold up my hand, cutting him off as I snap my phone back in my jacket pocket. “Don’t.”
I can’t think about what it could mean if Hawk is one of King’s devotees. He’s the generation of recruits stuck in the middle. Not the older jaded crowd I’m a part of and not the younger crowd that still lives in the house and idolizes King. I knew he could go either way. That’s why I spent all day with the man and until a few minutes ago I was sure Hawk was on our side.
Now I’m not so sure.
My skin goes cold. What if this is about more than just The Horsemen? What if King is even more twisted than I know? At the time I thought part of the reason I was assigned to Kerri was because he was punishing me for the narrow line of insubordination I’ve been walking.
But what if he was hoping to punish her too?
Butch catches me across the chest with an outstretched arm as I turn to walk back into the clubhouse. “You can’t.” He puts pressure on me, pushing me back toward my bike. “The best thing we can do is get back to her and make sure everything’s okay.”
I kick my leg over my bike
and fire it up. A hard ride home will take the edge off until I see her. Until I know I didn’t just make a mistake that will cost us both.
Because I’ll fucking go to jail tonight if Hawk’s laid a finger on her.
****
“WHAT IN THE fuck is going on here?”
Kerri looks up at me from her spot on the couch. “What?”
I point to the giant man passed out on the floor. Then I point to Shelly. “I mean how in the hell did these things happen?”
Kerri flashes me a smile. “I didn’t drug him if that’s what you’re asking.” Her tone is teasing but I’m not feeling amused.
Hawk stirs from his spot in the middle of the living room, lifting his head to look at me. “Oh, hey, Tracker.” He smiles at me which is fucking weird because Hawk never smiles. At anyone. For any reason. “How’d it go?” He rolls to his back and yawns.
Butch walks through the door I left open and stops behind me. “What in the fuck is going on?”
“I’m trying to figure out the same thing.” I look at Shelly. “How’d you get here?”
She pointed to Hawk. “He and Kerri came and picked me up.”
“We’re having a girl’s night.” Hawk grins at me from the floor. I didn’t even know the bastard had teeth and now suddenly he’s a barrel full of sunshine smiling like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
I look at Kerri. “Please tell me you didn’t give him that sparkle shit.”
She stands up off the couch, her brown eyes flashing. “I told you I didn’t drug him.”
I point to the man lying on the floor staring at his hand. “I’ve known this guy for years and I’ve never seen him smile. Not one fucking time. And now he’s—” I look down at Hawk who points a finger gun at me and clicks his tongue, giving me a wink. I rub my hand down my face. “He’s fucking worthless.” I walk across the floor without bothering to take off my boots. I’ve been worried sick about her for an hour and I come home to this. I grab her by the arm. “I can’t believe you did this. Do you know how hard I’m working to make sure you’re safe? Do you even care?”
The weight of keeping her safe, of keeping the club intact, of keeping King from pulling more unsuspecting kids into his web of manipulation and control, it’s all barreling down on me and I’m not sure I can handle anymore. I grab her other arm, holding her in place. “Why can’t you do a single thing I ask?”
Tracking Numbers: A Bad Boy Protector Romance (Lost Boys Book 1) Page 9