“You want to explain then?” he asked.
“It’s simple really. I was gifted this little ghost town a few months ago. So, I’m starting my own town, where I’m in charge and only the people I choose are allowed to reside.”
“Whatever,” he shrugged. “What does that have to do with us?”
“Well, isn’t it obvious?”
“No,” he shook his head, growing increasingly frustrated.
“In order to populate a town, you need well, a population,” she said, walking in a circle around Slade, literally inspecting him from all angles, her index finger running across the back of his shoulders as she spoke slowly. “And to do that, you need to reproduce, right? So, in order to make sure my town is populated with the best the human race has to offer, I’m cultivating the initial players personally.”
“What the fuck are you talking about, woman?”
“The name’s Mona. Miss Mona to you, actually,” she replied. “Do I need to spell it out, Slade? Eve here is a perfect specimen of woman, wouldn’t you say? And I’m not sure about the two of you just yet, but after a few tests, I’ll know better if you’re a good fit. If not, I’ll consider letting you go.”
“You’re planning on breeding me?” Libby exclaimed, her voice full of disbelief.
“That’s fucked up, lady,” Slade said.
“Miss Mona,” the guy with the gun grunted a correction.
“This is Zane,” Mona said, “he won’t hesitate to shoot anyone, so don’t think you can escape or attack us. Even if you did manage to get through Zane, there are a dozen other men you’d have to get through after that. For some reason, I don’t think you’re quite up for that.”
“You have no idea what I can handle, lady,” Slade growled.
“Well, call my bluff then,” she shrugged. “Be a shame if you never saw that family of yours again. I’ll bet you make pretty babies, don’t you?”
“You’ll never know,” he said. “You can’t force people to fucking breed, you freak.”
“I can do whatever I want,” Mona replied. “I’m especially skilled at getting people to do whatever I want them to do. Some say it’s my superpower.”
“You’re crazy,” I said, mumbling half to myself.
“Perhaps, but aren’t we all?”
She turned to go back up the stairs, Zane waiting at the bottom until she’d reached the top.
“I’ll have breakfast brought down soon, I’m sure you’re all hungry,” she said. “And then soon, we’ll get started on those tests.”
“Fuck your tests,” Slade growled.
Her laughter bubbled up from deep inside, lighting up her face. She really was beautiful, I thought, but beautiful doesn’t override crazy.
“Yes, fuck my tests, indeed,” she said, turning to walk away. Her footsteps faded away and Zane followed behind, his gun pointed our way as he ascended the stairs backwards.
He slammed the door shut.
The locks clicked back into place, leaving us to contemplate everything she’d just said.
“I told you she was fucking crazy,” Libby said.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MONA
He thinks I want money. How adorable.
Money’s the last thing I want. Money’s boring. And I’m on a mission to rid boredom from my life completely. That’s what’s so thrilling about this mission of mine. I can completely craft a life from scratch, make it exactly the way I want it to be. Money will have no place in it.
Slade’s an interesting guy. I’m going to have so much fun playing with him. He’s stubborn and angry and demanding, just the kind of alpha male I need on my team. He may be reluctant now, but his resistance won’t last long.
Breaking him is going to be such a pleasure.
His friend Bullet didn’t say much at all, but there would be plenty of other opportunities to get to know both of them. Before long, I’ll have them eating out of my hand.
As I mentioned, people rarely say no to me. So rarely that it’s not an answer I accept in my life.
They’ll learn soon enough.
“Miss Mona, what time do you want to leave today for the interview?”
“Give me half an hour,” I said. My agent scheduled a television interview for me this morning, and I dreaded the early morning drive to Portland, but promoting my work was a necessary evil these days.
I left Zane standing guard outside the basement door and retreated to my bedroom. Positioned in the very back of the house, the large master suite had a bay window that stretched along one entire wall, providing me with a beautiful view of the thick woods surrounding the house. I sat on the window seat and pulled open my computer.
It was obvious these two were not your usual bikers from the little information Slade had provided. If there was more to their story, I wanted to know it. I googled “Solid Ground” and sat back against the pillows as I dove into my research with keen curiosity.
It took a while, but after a few minutes, I found a blog that mentioned how an organization called Solid Ground had saved the life of a sex trafficking victim.
“Interesting,” I murmured. They’d created a bit of a name for themselves, despite what looked like an attempt to stay underground. From what I could tell, they were a group of badboy bikers gone good, a group of vigilantes with a mission. I liked it.
I kept looking, my curiosity piqued.
And then just like that, there she was, like a ghost from my past come to life.
When I saw the name Grace Taylor, my heart skipped a beat.
At first, I didn’t believe it.
I searched for images attached to my search and sure enough, there was Grace’s familiar face staring back at me, standing next to a very sexy guy wearing a jacket just like my new friends’ downstairs.
Happiness radiated from Grace’s youthful face.
“That bitch hasn’t aged in twenty years,” I mumbled.
Rage.
Satisfaction.
Anticipation.
My heart swelled as I realized that my journey just grew a lot more interesting and rewarding than I ever expected it would become.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
GRACE
Jeremiah bounded through the doorway as soon as I opened it. I embraced his mother, Diana, tightly.
“You must be worried sick,” I said.
She nodded and I ushered her into the house.
“I’ll make some tea,” I said, stealing a glance over at Jeremiah, who was now jumping up and down on my sofa. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.
He looked exactly like a mini-Slade. I walked over to him and ruffled his hair.
“Hey buddy,” I said.
“Hi, Grace!”
“Want to watch cartoons? Are you hungry?”
He laid backwards and upside down, looking up at me and nodding.
“Cartoons!”
“Okay, buddy,” I said, flipping on the television to the early morning cartoons. I wanted to keep him occupied, so Diana and I could talk. It worked. In seconds, he was hypnotized.
I went back to the kitchen, where Diana was sitting at the kitchen table waiting for me. I turned on the kettle, pulled two cups out and sat down across from her.
Her eyes gave it all away.
“Diana, listen to me,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Slade’s the toughest guy I know. Whatever’s going on, he’s going to be fine. We’ll find him.”
She nodded through her tears.
“It’s been two days now,” she said, her voice trembling.
“I know, honey,” I replied. “But trust me. Just keep the faith.”
Diana and Jeremiah had been staying with us since arriving yesterday. I’d given them use of one of the guest cabins, but I could tell Diana felt better in my company. I’d stayed up all night worrying, but she didn’t need to know that. I jumped up to finish the tea and came back with the cups, setting one in front of her. She put her hands around it, warming her palms.
&nbs
p; “I should make breakfast,” I said.
“No,” she shook her head. “Cherry delivered an entire buffet to our cabin early this morning. She told me to tell you she saved you a plate.”
“Of course she did,” I replied, smiling. Cherry was the backbone of our entire operation. She rarely left the premises, insisting she was happy spending most of her time in the clubhouse making sure everyone’s basic needs were met. Without her, our little operation wouldn’t run nearly as smoothly as it does. We’d grown to a size I’d never anticipated when we all began.
We were busy almost all the time now, with someone somewhere needing our services. I took no joy in that fact. The day our work is done will be the happiest day of my life. The abuse I’ve seen endured by so many at the hands of other humans was enough to keep one depressed indefinitely. My greatest wish is for all of the suffering to be over.
In the meantime, we kept going. Luckily, we had the resources to do so. Taking on more guys had proven to be a great decision. They were all quickly becoming a part of the family, and I was so proud of the way the original members welcomed the new guys into the fold.
My heart swelled when I thought of the family we’d created together. It was exactly what I’d always wanted growing up, what I never had. Love. Loyalty. Protection. My life had become a beautiful journey I’d become completely grateful for.
Looking into Diana’s eyes, I saw the pain she felt, and I understood. To have that family threatened with uncertainty, not knowing if the man she dearly loved was safe, had to be tearing her up.
“Ryder called me with an update this morning. They’ve spread out, starting at the last place they saw Slade. Riot said that he and Bullet took off at the end of a job. They haven’t found anything yet, but at this point, no news is good news.”
“You’re talking to a news reporter, Grace, you know I don’t buy into that line,” she said, flashing me a wry smile.
“Fair enough,” I nodded.
“I checked in with the police again this morning, and the hospitals, too. Nothing on that end, either. I just can’t imagine what’s happened. Or, rather, I can, but the things I keep imagining are just —.” She stopped, tears filling her eyes. I reached over and put my hand on hers.
“You have to think positively,” I insisted. “Slade wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself.”
“I know. You’re right,” she said. “It’s just that I know the odds.”
“So do I. And this early in the game, they’re still in your favor. Diana, you know how good we are. You know the resources we have. Everyone’s looking for Slade. And he’s tougher than nails. We’ll find him. I promise.”
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Mama!” Jeremiah yelled from the living room, breaking through the tension. We turned to him and he pointed at the television. “The cartoons are over!”
I glanced up at the television and saw that Good Day Oregon was starting, the local morning news show that features interviews with local artists and other entertainment stories.
“Oh, I’m sorry buddy, they’re over,” I said. I sat next to him and grabbed the remote. “I’ll just turn this off.”
“Welcome to Good Day Oregon. I’m Stephanie Kralevich and today, I’m visiting with Portland’s favorite artist, Mona Superhero,” the blonde on the screen said, causing me to pause before I hit the remote.
“Oh,” I mumbled to myself, staring into the familiar hazel eyes of the striking brunette standing next to the host. I’d have recognized her anywhere, even if I hadn’t been following her from a distance for the last couple decades.
“She’s the artist that did all the Voodoo Doughnuts murals. Do you know her?” Diana asked, walking up behind me.
“I used to,” I said. “A lifetime ago.”
The pain of the past rushed forward, bubbling up to the surface from a place I’d buried it deep inside. I’d made some mistakes in my past, back when I was a young rookie cop, doing my best to do everything by the book in a world where that isn’t always the right choice. Sometimes, I created victims as a result of my unbending ethics.
Mona was one of those.
Of course, she wasn’t ‘Mona Superhero’ back then, she was simply Alice, a sad street kid in a very bad place.
“She’s come a long way,” I said. “I’m glad she’s doing so well for herself these days. I guess you could say I knew her when.”
I glanced over at Diana and she’d gone white, her eyes glued to the screen.
“Diana?” I asked.
Her mouth fell open as she stepped closer to the screen, a smiling Mona shaking the host’s hand as she sat down for the interview.
“What is it?” I asked.
“H-h-her hand,” she finally said, her voice shaking. “Look at her hand!”
“Her hand?”
I stood up, looking closer, the blood draining from my face.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mumbled, the ruby eyes of the skull on Slade’s one-of-a-kind ring sparkling under the studio lights.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SLADE
My ring was missing.
“This is bullshit,” I said, tearing the place apart. I’d just noticed and I was determined to find it, if it was still down here with us. I had the sneaking suspicion it wasn’t.
“What’s wrong?” Libby asked.
“My wedding ring is missing,” I said.
“That ugly skull thing was your wedding ring?”
“Where is it?” I demanded, stalking over to her.
“Dude, chill,” Bullet said, taking a step between us.
“I didn’t take it,” she said. “Mona took it while you were passed out.”
“Fuck!” I turned and paced around the small space, my anger and frustration growing with each slam of my boot on the concrete floor.
Caged!
Like a goddamned animal.
There’s a reason I don’t do cars. It’s not just the feeling of the air rushing around me that I’m addicted to, it’s the freedom I absolutely need. I don’t ‘do’ restraints, of any kind
I don’t fucking do cages.
This crazy woman has found my achilles heel, but I’ll be damned if I let her know she’s found my weak spot. I’ll never let her see me sweat.
And I’m certainly not about to let her keep my ring.
Diana’s face clouded my vision and my heart cracked in two. She must be so fucking worried about me. I hated knowing she was hurting, wondering, most likely imagining the worst.
The thing about Diana is that she’s a realist.
She’s delivered the news every single night to the entire Portland metro area for years and she knows how the stories with the bad endings outweigh the good ones by a huge amount. So, I know she’s thinking I’m face down in a ditch somewhere. Or worse, murdered in a back alley after pissing off the wrong dude.
I growl under my breath, my head spinning.
I’ve got to think. I’ve got to be smart. Bullet may have my back, but he’s not so big in the brains department, at least not that I can tell so far. Maybe he’ll prove me wrong, but in the meantime, I’m counting on my own wits to get us out of this nightmare.
The faster I get back to Diana, the better.
First things first. I need information.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BULLET
A bead of sweat slowly falls down Slade’s twitching temple as he grills Libby. I watch it fall and another forms right behind it. I’ve never seen him so upset. Usually, he’s all smiles and jokes and pulling pranks on everyone or trying to stir up shit between the other Gods just for fun.
He is definitely not having fun right now.
In fact, he’s panicked.
I don’t blame him, of course, I guess I am, too, but more than that, I’m confused, trying to make sense of all this shit, and why we’re here, and what the hell is going on in this cultish place.
It all seems to start with Mona. By all appearances, she’s
not so odd, but a deeper glance behind those eyes and you see there’s something not quite right, something slightly evil, if not downright scary simmering just below the surface.
And then there’s Libby, who is enduring Slade’s barrage of questions with the ease and boredom of someone who’s given up. Which bothers me.
She’s pretty. Young, beautiful, confident. She’s fit and healthy and I can’t help but notice the curves of her hips and the swell of her breasts as she puffs her chest out towards Slade, determined not to give off the impression that she’s afraid of him.
I like that.
It’s spunky, fearless, and takes a lot of balls to stand up to a guy like Slade. Especially if you don’t know him, because he’s a fucking scary bastard.
“Alright, Libby, I need to know everything,” Slade insisted. “How do you know Mona?”
“I don’t,” she said. “I went to an art gallery during First Thursday in Old Town. Mona’s one of the biggest visual artists to ever come out of Portland. I was excited to see her work close-up. I’ve followed her for years. I was going to do my thesis on her, in fact. I was a little obsessed, to be honest. Something about her work just draws me in.”
“You’re an artist?” I asked, my interest in her growing. My eyes were glued to her lips. Before shyly answering, she bit her bottom lip, sending a spark of electricity straight to my gut.
“Yes,” she whispered, looking away. “I’m a senior at PNCA.”
“Oh,” I nodded, pretending to know what PNCA was. “Cool.”
“Yeah, cool,” Slade said, rolling his eyes. “So you’re saying Mona’s really famous or something?”
“Very. She did all the murals in all the Voodoo Doughnut Shops. She’s known all around the world for her duct-tape art.”
“Duct-tape? Really?” I asked, shaking my head. “So why the hell would she take the risk of kidnapping us and claiming she’d let us go if we didn’t pass her tests? That doesn’t sound like something a famous artist would do.”
“Are you telling me you believed that line of bullshit?” Slade asked, looking at me like I was a naïve kid. “Nobody kidnaps someone just to let them go. You think she wants a witness just wandering around?”
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