“Fuck! Celia!” Angel roared from the next room.
My heart, which had been thumping heavily in my chest, moved up into my throat. My numb fingers curled around the handle of the gun. I stumbled toward the sound of his voice with Wolverine fighting to move in front of my body.
He’d found him.
We were too late.
I lifted the back of my wrist to my nose as the stench of rotting flesh grew stronger, fighting the urge to vomit. A moldy cot had been shoved up against one of the white walls, stained with blood.
“What the hell is this?” I asked, fighting to see around Wolverine’s torso.
“Jesus Christ,” Wolverine exhaled softly. “Celia, go upstairs and wait for us.”
I gave up any pretense of being brave, or strong, or any of the other crap Kate seemed to think I was as I gripped the material of his shirt in my fist. “Tell me it’s not him,” I begged. “Please.”
“Doll, listen to him,” Angel added. “It’s better that way.”
Goosebumps spread over my arms, but I stayed where I was. Jamie had fought to restore me, even the parts that I’d become convinced were lost forever. He’d never given up, and no matter how bad it hurt, I wouldn’t leave his side now.
The breath fled my body as I surged around the wall of biker, my feet stuttering to a stop when I encountered the island of fluids surrounding the body on the floor. Insects fed on liquefied flesh of what had once been a head, making it almost impossible to determine identity other than the fact that the victim was male.
Angel looked up from where he knelt with a handkerchief covering his nose and mouth and somberly shook his head. “It ain’t Jamie, Celia. Now, go upstairs.”
I nodded, flooded with guilt over my relief that the person on the floor wasn’t my husband. I found myself looking down at the ring on the man’s left hand, wondering if his wife was out searching for him like I was for Jamie.
When she found out what happened, would she fall apart blaming herself, or decide to go after the men responsible?
Wolverine placed a hand on my shoulder, silently urging me to leave. I looked away from the anchor on the man’s forearm and turned toward the door, fighting not to think of the man’s loved ones.
When it registered, the blood drained from my face, and I careened into Wolverine’s body with a hard groan. “No. No, it can’t be.”
The proof continued to stare up at me from the concrete, a tattoo with one word woven through it—Norma. A symbol that was representative of his time in the Navy and his love for the woman who would become his wife.
“Daddy,” I gasped. However bad things had gotten between us, he’d deserved better than this. He’d deserved better than being discarded like trash.
My vision blurred as Wolverine helped me up the stairs, but the tears wouldn’t fall. The grief left me feeling as if I were going mad, wild with rage that they were going to pin this on Jamie too, and people would believe it.
They would believe that my father had died at my husband’s hands, because to them, it made sense.
And while everyone was busy shaking their heads in shame, Jamie slipped farther out of reach. The Sons and the man who betrayed him got away scot-free.
Not today.
I broke away from Wolverine’s side with a low growl and ran for Jamie’s truck, hitting the lock button as the door slammed shut behind me. The gun I hadn’t realized I was still holding dug into my palm and I reluctantly placed it in the passenger seat before starting the ignition.
Wolverine rapped at the window in a panic. “Celia, open the door!”
My resolve slipped until I remembered my father’s body, left to rot in that hell all alone.
“It’s Bear. He’s the traitor, Wolverine!”
The leathery skin around his eyes stretched thin in surprise as he yelled back through the thin pane of glass, “No. Celia, it ain’t him.”
But it was.
“He has Jamie’s vest,” I choked out, sounding as if I was on the verge of crying even as my eyes remained dry. “I’m going to kill him.”
“Don’t do it, doll. Just open the goddamn door!” His fist connected with the glass, making it rattle.
“Move,” I pleaded. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
He pulled back. “You go down to that canyon, and you’re askin’ for death! Ain’t one person gonna be able to save your ass. Think about Jamie! You want to turn his brothers into his enemies?”
“They already are,” I said before shifting the truck into drive, leaving him behind in a cloud of dust.
Within seconds, my cell phone screen was lighting up with Angel’s name, the cheerful musical tone filling the cab of the truck. I let it go to voicemail, only for it to start up again almost immediately.
I switched it off while keeping my foot pressed against the accelerator, daring any cop to try to pull me over. I navigated the narrow road leading down into the canyon with ease, no longer a scared pregnant teenager, but a cynical woman with a vendetta.
I bypassed the open spots and threw the truck into park behind a row of bikes, watching in amusement as the prospects shared looks of wide-eyed panic.
Jamie’s newest prospect, Alex, ran up to the side of the truck, demanding that I get out. Only, he didn’t answer to Jamie anymore. He answered to a traitor.
“Hey there, Alex!” I kept one hand on the door handle and the other on my gun, praying he’d back down once he knew who I was.
“C-C-Celia?” he stuttered as I climbed out, keeping the weapon tucked close to my body. “Jesus Christ, you damn near took out Pres’s bike!”
I brought my hand up to my mouth in mock horror. “Did I? I’m telling you, I just got these new contacts, and my depth perception is all sorts of messed up. Is your Pres here?”
His eyes moved to the hand I had concealed in the folds of my dress before he replied, “Uh, he ain’t around—”
A gun is the fastest. Get the guy on his knees, press the barrel against his skull, and pull the trigger.
“That’s funny, I saw his bike. Which one was it? Oh, it’s right there.” I pulled the gun free and brought it to the side of his head before he could reach for his own, gripping the patch-free vest right between his shoulder blades to keep him from bolting on me. “Get on your knees.”
My head jerked from left to right as the remaining prospects raised their weapons without hesitation. They didn’t know me, and even if they did, my husband wasn’t the one running things anymore.
“Get Bear!” I called out through a clenched jaw.
“There’s six of us and one of you, bitch!” a prospect taunted from over my left shoulder. “Those ain’t the best odds.”
I spun with Alex still locked in my grip, fighting to keep them in my sights. “Bear!” I screamed, knowing I had about thirty seconds before they started putting bullets in me.
Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
Sweat was clinging to almost every part of my body when Bear finally appeared in the yard, flanked by his usual guards. “Celia,” he said patiently, seemingly ignoring the gun being held on his prospect. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
“You know damn well why I’m here!”
He made eye contact with someone behind me and shook his head, causing me to crane my neck to see all of my enemies.
“Don’t have the slightest fuckin’ clue, but I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say it ain’t because you missed me,” he replied with a smirk.
I wanted him unsettled, but Bear looked as relaxed as ever. The hands clenched into tight fists at his sides were the only indicator that I’d caught him off-guard.
Somehow, that was scarier.
The sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach intensified when I realized he wasn’t calling off his dogs. “I want to talk. Alone.”
“See, if you wanted to talk without an audience, you should’ve left the gun in the truck,” Bear said, raising his palms in a helpless shrug. “It don’t come acro
ss as real fuckin’ friendly if you know what I mean.”
“I just came from your storage facility.” I relaxed my hold on Alex before calmly firing a round into the dirt between Bear’s feet. “I saw what you did to my father! Now, tell me where Jamie is, or I won’t hesitate to put the next one in your head.”
Bear’s eyes flashed briefly with surprise before he nodded to his men. Two prospects took me down to the dirt, knocking the gun from my hands and the breath from my lungs.
“Everyone inside,” Bear demanded as I lay gasping on the ground.
The men moved off of me, and I forced myself up onto my knees, slowly breathing in through my mouth while pushing my stomach out in an attempt to get my diaphragm working properly again.
The biker who’d always felt more like an older brother than Jamie’s second-in-command watched me warily as he emptied the bullets from the magazine on my gun before tossing it into the dirt. “Which storage facility were you at?”
“The one off the interstate,” I rasped.
“You found your father there?” He asked softly, no longer smiling.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know!” I pushed myself up and staggered toward him.
“There’s a lot of things I don’t know, Celia!” Bear growled. “Like, how did Grey’s kutte end up at my house after your daughter visited—”
“She found it on your bed!”
His nostrils flared, and he took a step forward, placing us toe to toe. “And why the fuck would I have it?”
“Because you’re the traitor!” I looked down at the leather vest caught in my fists, knowing by laying hands on him I’d just sentenced myself to death. Sadly, I no longer cared. “You turned him over to the Sons, killed my father—”
Bear laughed. “You still believe that I’m behind it all! The fuckin’ mastermind who sold out his own club for an enemy! Jesus fuckin’ Christ!”
The sound of tires moving over gravel drifted through the trees, but I kept my focus on the biker in front of me.
“Just tell me what you did to him, you son-of-a-bitch!” I screamed, driving my fist into his chest. “Tell me… put me out of my misery!”
For months, I’d clung to this naïve hope that we’d find Jamie alive. Today, it had been my father’s body. Tomorrow, it might be my husband’s.
If the Sons hadn’t killed him yet, there was a reason. I just didn’t know what that reason was.
Bear stood motionless, letting me batter him with my fists. “Celia.” His voice was low, a warning, vibrating beneath my arms.
“Where is he, Bear?” Mikey called out from behind me. “Don’t make this hard on yourself.”
“Fuck you, Sullivan!” Bear spat.
I sucked in a ragged breath before launching myself into his large body again, knowing that if he wanted to, he could easily take me down.
“If your club isn’t responsible, then why did I find my father at your storage facility?” I growled, striking him across the face with an open palm. I had crossed every line in an attempt to get answers, or at the very least, a reaction that proved his guilt. “Where. Is. My. Husband?”
At the mention of the storage facility, Bear snapped out of his trance, quickly capturing my wrist in his hand and bringing it down. “You’re seein’ exactly what they want you to see,” he said, so softly that I almost swore I’d imagined it.
“Stop fucking around and tell us what we need to know,” Mikey demanded. “We aren’t leaving until every inch of your clubhouse has been searched.”
“Sullivan, unless you brought a motherfuckin’ warrant, you ain’t gettin’ within ten feet of the door. That goes for every last one of you.” He glared down at me, still squeezing my wrist to the point of pain. “Now, I’m gonna tell you one last time; I didn’t lay a fuckin’ hand on Grey.”
“But—” I protested, thinking of all the evidence that seemed to point directly to him. Dakota had shown me footage of Bear confronting Nate. In my severely dehydrated and sleep-deprived state, it had all made sense. “I saw you.”
“He’s right,” Kate spoke up. It wasn’t her presence that surprised me, but the strength in her voice as she stepped forward. Her hands trembled, but she straightened her spine and faced us. “Mama, the other video. I think that’s the key.”
I lifted my chin up to Bear. “You confronted Nate… told him to keep quiet—”
“Kate, pull up that damn video.” His brows drew together in confusion, anger rolling off of him in waves. “Is that what you think?”
He gripped me tighter. “Yeah, I fuckin’ confronted the doctor that night. I wanted to know who had access to Grey before he died. I thought I tied up every loose end, and guess what? I still completely fuckin’ missed the fact that someone took him!”
We all had.
Because the sheer number of people who would’ve had to have been paid off to keep quiet was staggering.
Impossible.
Kate handed Bear the phone with a mumbled, “It’s, um, it’s all here.”
He released his hold on me, running his hand over his beard as he watched the video. “This ain’t one of my guys. Sullivan, is he one of yours? Oh, that’s right, you’re not a fuckin’ cop anymore.”
Bear’s mocking laugh triggered some protective instinct within me. Mikey may not have been my blood, but he was still my son, and no one attacked my kids and got away with it.
Even a biker who could very well break me in half.
For someone smaller, a sneak attack is better.
I bent down as if I was going to tie my shoe before retrieving the trench knife from its holster. The laughter died on Bear’s lips the moment I shot up and pressed the tip of the blade to his throat.
“Do not speak to him like that,” I said slowly. “You can take your anger out on me for showing up here, but you will not involve my kids. Are we clear?”
“You’re on dangerous ground, Celia,” Bear ground out. His face was mottled with red. Whether it was from the pressure of the blade against his skin or a temper on the verge of exploding remained a mystery.
“Are we clear?” I repeated.
Bear jerked his head in assent, and I released him before returning the knife to the holster on my thigh. He rubbed at his throat before pointing to all of us.
“You’ve got sixty seconds to jump back in your cages and get the fuck out of here. You show your face around here again, and I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in every one of your fuckin’ heads. Am I makin’ myself clear?”
I nodded on behalf of the group and sent them ahead of me before turning back to the biker. “I won’t stop looking for him, Bear.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked in anger, but he nodded. “You’re fuckin’ with dangerous men, Celia. You keep lettin’ them lead you into these traps, and it won’t be long before you end up dead. The next biker you attack might not hold back.” He patted the gun on his hip, a reminder that he could’ve killed me at any point.
“And Celia?” he added, handing me Kate’s phone. “The day I take off this kutte is the day you’ll know I’ve given up on findin’ him.”
I nodded and retrieved my unloaded gun from where it lay in the dirt, emotionally beaten down and with no more answers than I’d had when I arrived.
Mikey stood by the open door of Jamie’s truck with his arms crossed over his chest, looking just like his father did when he was angry. “What the actual fuck was that?”
“I found my father at their storage facility.”
“And what? Just thought you’d go after an entire goddamn MC on your own?” He ran a hand roughly over his face before turning to a stricken Kate. “Call Nate. Tell him to meet us back at your mother’s.”
“But he might—” she protested, leaving me to guess as to why she was still avoiding her husband.
“Does now seem like a good time to make excuses, Counselor? We’re fucking lucky that Bear didn’t kill every last one of us.”
My head chose that moment to remind me just how hu
ngover I was. I massaged my temple, and abjectly replied, “But he didn’t. We’re all still here to fight another day.”
“Celia, sweetie,” Mike snarled. “What good is finding Grey if we’re just going to have to tell him that you went off and got yourself killed? No more secrets, from here on out. We communicate, and we sure as fuck—”
“Don’t go running into things with our dicks out,” Dakota finished somberly. “Got it.”
Mike squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, anyone else have anything they need to confess to or share with the class before we get the fuck on the road?”
Lauren squeezed his hand. “Need me to drive?”
“Mikey, I’m sorry. I—” I tried, only to be met with more resistance.
“We either work as a team or not at all, Celia. If we’re all off doing our own thing, then we’re as good as dead.”
“So, tell us what to do.”
He glanced around. “Not here. Your place. Kate,” he singsonged, without turning to face her. “I’m not hearing a phone call.”
* * *
The drive back to the farmhouse was a quiet one, filled with nothing but the sound of static from the radio. Instead of turning it off, Kate and I had each gotten lost in our own heads.
When she’d offered to ride back with me, I assumed it was because she wanted to talk about what had happened to her grandfather, or at the very least, to give me some clue as to why she was still avoiding Nate. Her fingers moved rapidly over the screen of her phone, but otherwise, she remained silent.
My mind was all over the place. I quickly moved from thoughts of Jamie and where he was being held, to Kate and the secrets she was keeping.
Wife.
Mother.
I shifted between the two like a ping-pong ball, coming away from both with nothing but more confusion.
“You’re staring at me,” Kate said, still staring at the phone in her hand.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
With a sigh, she asked, “What’s there to talk about? My grandfather is dead. No one seems to know anything about where my dad is. Oh, and my husband, who hates drama, is about to be thrown into the middle of a shit show. Did I miss anything?”
Savior: Silent Phoenix MC Series: Book Five Page 19