Wraith

by Kathleen Kelly

  “No. You can do much better than me, love.”

  “I know.”

  I chuckle. “You know?”

  “Yeah, but I was giving you a shot.” Suzannah gestures to her body with a sweep of her hand. “You know you’re missing out on a whole lot of goodness.”

  We both laugh, and I nod. “Yes, ma’am!”

  Suzannah winks. “Okay, take me back to the motel. I’ll write down the address, and then I’ll be on my way.”

  WRAITH

  This time I’m waiting in a closet in the bedroom. This house is a dump, the bed is covered in a sheet that has so many stains on it you could get tetanus from looking at it. This annoys me. Suzannah deserved better.

  I hear a door open and voices. A light comes on. I peer out through the louvers of the door and see Hammer and another man.

  “Told you, no one’s here, Brute.” Hammer sits on the bed. “It’s just going to be me and that chick from the bar. Told me she’d do anything to get her job back. Hey, you can do her, too, after I’m done.”

  “Was that the hot one with the blonde hair and the big tits, Candy?”

  “Yeah, that’s her.”

  They both laugh, and I lose my cool. I throw open the door, shoot Hammer in the kneecap and Brute right between his eyes. Hammer screams, so I shove the gun in his mouth, and they turn to whimpers.

  “I need you to shut the fuck up,” I growl.

  With the gun in his mouth, he quietens as I listen for other bikers. There’s no movement or noise, so I remove the gun from his mouth.

  “Ann Felder.” Hammer gives me empty eyes and shakes his head slightly. I place the gun on his other kneecap and repeat, “Ann Felder.”

  “What about her?”

  “Where’s the body?”

  “Did they kill her?” he asks with confusion.

  “Tell me where Ann Felder is,” I snarl.

  “Alec Petrov has her. Did he kill her?”

  I take two steps back. I’m confused. Ann is alive?

  “How long ago did you see her?”

  “Last week when we dropped off the latest shipment. Alec liked her, so he bought her. Keeps her with him at all times. Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m Ann Felder’s father.”

  Hammer laughs and applies pressure to his knee. “A father? Fuck these girls don’t have families that care. It’s what makes it so easy to take them. In nearly five years of doing this, we’ve only had three girls reported to the police. Three out of?” He waves a hand in the air. “More than I can count.”

  I look down at Brute’s dead body and realize I’m nodding furiously. I stop all movement and stare at Hammer.

  “Wait!” Hammer says loudly, holding up a bloody hand. “I can tell you where she is.”

  “I don’t need you for that.”

  “Fuck you!”

  Hammer tries to charge me, but I shoot him dead. Brain, bone, and blood splatter the wall behind him. For over six months, I’ve been chasing what I thought was a ghost. When her trail went cold, I assumed these assholes killed her, not that she’d been sold.

  I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and walk out of the room. Normally, I like to take my time. The CIA recruited and trained me, but I’ve always had a predisposition to inflict pain and suffering. I’ve kept it in check, only allowing myself to torture those the government needed information from or those I needed information from. Lately, the need to get my hands dirty or bloody has been hard to control, and now, now I feel like I’ve been cheated. I’ve killed two people, and my hands are relatively clean.

  I walk out the front door. Two Harleys are parked in the driveway. I go back inside, snag the keys off Brute’s dead body, and leave.

  It’s a week later. Staking out Alec Petrov hasn’t been easy. He seems to spend most of his time at a house in the country, surrounded by armed guards, dogs, and security cameras. If I can get inside the house, I’ll be able to talk to him. I haven’t seen Ann. If she is still alive, she must be in the house. The guards out front wouldn’t even let me enter the grounds to deliver flowers, nor would they confirm that an Ann Felder lived there.

  I’m inside the grounds, just over the fence waiting for the guards to make their rounds past me and move before the dogs are allowed out to roam. I picked tonight as there is no moon, and being out in the country, there isn’t any ambient light, so hiding in the gardens is easy as long as I avoid the lights around the yard.

  Moving silently, I approach a side door. There are no cameras around this side of the house. I try the door and, of course, it’s locked. I drop down to my knees and pick the lock—it takes less than ten seconds. Opening the door, I slip inside and listen for people or an alarm. I make myself count to thirty. It’s excruciating, but I can’t afford to screw this up. If Ann is alive, she’s depending on me.

  I make my way through the bottom floor of the house. It’s tastefully decorated, and the only people down here are guards and the house staff. I manage to avoid all of them. Getting up the stairs to the second floor isn’t easy. The stairwell is in the middle of the first floor directly in front of the doors leading to the outside. I wait, hidden in a closet, for guards and staff to leave. It must take thirty minutes before I am sure I won’t be seen. The stairs creak as I step on them, the sound to my ears is amplified. As quickly as I can, I ascend the stairs. Once I’m at the top, the house branches out into two wings. I go left and open all the doors. There are no security guards up here.

  The left side of the house is empty—a bunch of highly decorated rooms with no one in them. I move to the other side of the home. I can hear a television and head toward it. Looking quickly around the side of a door, I see Alec Petrov on the phone, walking away from me. I look again, and he’s facing the window, talking.

  I slip into the room. No one else appears to be in here with him. I wait, and he finishes the call, tossing the phone onto an armchair.

  Petrov is still facing the window, shaking his head. “You know many have tried, but none have made it this far. Is it my father you seek to punish, or is it something I have done?” he asks loudly.

  With his hands raised, he turns slowly to face me, a small smile on his lips. I hold up a picture of Ann and walk toward him. Petrov lowers his arms, takes it, looking puzzled, he smiles.

  “Dorogoy? Why do you have this?” demands Petrov.

  “Dorogoy? You call her darling?”

  “If you mean to hurt her, I’ll yell, loudly. Please, if you want to hurt someone, let it be me, leave her out of this.”

  “What’s her name?” I ask. Petrov shakes his head. “Tell me her name.”

  “Ann. Her name is Ann Petrov.”

  Stunned, I walk toward him, gun raised. “No. Her name is Ann Felder.”

  “That was her name. Ann is my wife.”

  I shake my head and raise my eyebrows. “She's only sixteen,” I growl out.

  “I know. We know. It’s what she wanted to do. Who are you?”

  “I’m her father. And I know how to find people. She can’t be married. That would leave a trail, one I could follow.”

  “We’re married, maybe not in the traditional way but in every way that counts. Ann has met my parents, my friends, she’s even in my will.” Petrov pauses then continues, “No,” he states, shaking his head. “Ann said her parents were dead.”

  “Do I look dead to you, asshole?”

  “Her father died overseas. He was military or something. Ann was devastated, you can’t be him.”

  I hold up another photo—it’s of Ann, her mother, and me. Petrov walks toward me and takes it, then sits down in a chair.

  “Please sit,” he says, gesturing to a chair opposite him. “I took her word for it. I believed her when she said you died, and she cried.”

  I lower the gun and stare at him. Petrov seems perplexed, and he hasn’t called for help. Could he be telling the truth?

  “How old are you?”

  Twenty-six.”

  “S
he’s sixteen.”

  “I know.” Petrov shrugs. “Was it you who killed the Harbingers?”

  I nod. “They said you bought her.”

  Petrov laughs and nods. “I suppose I did. One look at her, and I never stood a chance. I love her, you see?”

  Petrov stands and walks over to a cabinet, opens it, and pours two drinks.

  He walks toward me, one glass held out. “Whiskey?”

  I nod and take it from him. “Where is she?”

  “Ann is shopping in town. She should be back soon.”

  “I’ll wait.”

  Petrov grins and nods as he arranges himself in the chair. “She isn’t my prisoner. Ann is free to come and go as she pleases. All I ask of her is fidelity and loyalty.”

  “What about love?” I ask.

  “Love, fidelity, it’s all the same, isn’t it?”

  A noise from downstairs draws both our attention. Someone is running up the stairs.

  “Alec! Alec! I’m sorry, I’m so late! Alec, where are you?” It’s Ann’s voice, and she sounds so happy.

  I stand and put the gun to Alec’s head. He freezes in his chair, looking stiff and uncomfortable.

  “Alec, I—” Ann stumbles when she sees us. Panic races across her features then recognition. “Daddy?”

  She’s dressed in a cream skirt with matching jacket, and her hair is up in a chignon. My girl looks so much older than sixteen.

  “Hey, baby girl, I’ve come to take you home.”

  Ann shakes her head. “No. I love Alec, I'm happy.”

  “You were sold to Alec, and you belong at home.”

  “Dorogoy, it’s okay. We’ve been having a nice chat. Come here.”

  Ann takes a step toward us, and I pistol whip Alec across the head, knocking him out.

  “No!” shouts Ann as she rushes to his side. “What have you done?”

  I grab her by the arm and pull her away from him. “I’m taking you home.”

  “Home?” Ann yells at me. “To what? A father who’s never there and a mother who wishes she wasn’t? Alec loves me. He married me!” Ann thrusts her hand in my face showing off her rings.

  “It’s not love, Ann. You’re a possession, something he owns.”

  “You don’t know!” hisses Ann as she pulls out of my grip. “You don’t know me! E!”

  Not liking what I have to do, I grab her in a chokehold until she passes out. I place her limp body on the ground then tie up Alec Petrov.

  I pick up my girl and throw her over one shoulder. The house is quiet, and I slip out the way I came in. No one gets in our way.

  I take Ann to Switzerland. There’s a camp here that specializes in the deprogramming of brainwashed people. It’s brutal, and I’m not allowed to see her. Ann is convinced that that piece of shit, Petrov, loved her. It’s not going to be easy. I’ve got contacts in his organization who believe that he is genuinely worried about her. Petrov has even posted a reward for her safe return.

  I’m going back, I’m going to find him, and I’m going to drench myself in his blood. Ann will see him for what he is, and he will see me for what I really am.

  The Wraith seen shortly before death.

  ALEC

  Six months. Six very long months without Ann. I’ve sent people out to find her and to find him—this Wraith. They’ve all come back emptyhanded, or dead. The Harbingers of Death are in disarray without their leaders. It’s like herding cats. But what can you expect when you deal with the dregs of society?

  There is one in their group who is loyal to me. Jax Broad. He’s making a run for President, and I intend to make sure he gets voted in. Jax has kept more than one of my secrets over the years, right under the nose of the dearly departed Hammer. The man has a mean streak and no conscience at all. I believe the correct term is psychopath. Fortunately for me, a psychopath who has my best interests at heart. If anyone can hunt down the Wraith and find my Ann, I’m confident it’s him.

  I have listening devices planted in their clubhouse. I have them replaced every so often when they do a sweep and find them. They always assume it’s the FBI or the local PD who’s trying to discover their secrets.

  A meeting has been called for the members to throw down their gauntlet for President. Jax is smart and if I think I know him as well as I do, he’ll have made sure no one runs against him.

  I grin to myself, one has to admire his tenacity.

  JAX

  I’m standing in the clubhouse of the Harbingers of Death MC. The President is dead, the VP is dead, and a few of the other members got whacked too. We’re all here today to sort this shit out. There is dissension in the ranks as those who think they can take the crown step forward. I’ve been in this club my entire life. My father was a founding member. My claim for the crown is strong, but I’m not well-liked. That’s why I’ve bribed, threatened, and beat more than a few to make sure I’m voted in.

  The Road Captain, Reaper, stands and glances at me. “We all know why we’re here. Our club is under threat from an outside source. We need to vote in a new President and VP. And if you all think it’s necessary, a new Sergeant at Arms.”

  I scoff. “If we think it necessary? They’re dead, Reaper. Surely, he failed in his fucking mission?”

  Reaper nods, lips in a thin line as he looks down on me. “Hook wasn’t here when all this shit went down. He’s always been a faithful soldier. I’d vouch for him.”

  Hook stands. “I have no desire to take over. I give you my oath whoever you vote in will have me stuck to them regardless of their wish to be on their own or not. I’ll not fail another president.”

  I’m surprised, I thought he’d want the brass ring, the crown, the presidency. I eye him sharply and find his gaze firmly planted on me. Ahh, he knows I’m making a run for it.

  “Good enough for me,” states Reaper.

  I glance up at him, nod once, stand, and look around the room. Slowly, all conversations cease as they give me their full attention.

  “You all know me. You know who my father was. I’m asking for your support in backing me as your new president.” I look at the men and smile. “I give you my word we’ll find out who took our brothers from us, and vengeance will be ours.”

  Someone behind me begins to clap, I turn to find Alec Petrov, son of Roman Petrov and the acting head of his family, walking toward me. His steps are measured and deliberate, capturing the attention of everyone in the room. Alec is Russian mob. We have business dealings with them, but it’s unusual to have him step foot in our clubhouse.

  “Vengeance will be yours,” roars Alec.

  I glance at Hook, who positions himself near me.

  “I want the bastard who killed your men and took my wife, strung up and flayed alive. I want to dance on his dead body.” Alec grins at the room. “I want my wife back,” yells Alec, fist raised.

  “Alec, this is club business. It’s private. We’ll need you to leave,” I state.

  “I’ll make this easy for you all.” Alec puts his hand on my shoulder. “Vote Jax here in, and I’ll give your club one million dollars. Bring me the head of this Wraith, and I’ll double it.” Alec’s voice has gone steely, and he looks at each man with a crazy gleam in his eye.

  “You’ll give us two million dollars if we vote Jax in?” asks Reaper.

  “No, I’ll give you one million dollars if you vote Jax in. I trust him and know how ruthless he can be. I’ll give you two million if you bring me the Wraith.”

  I shake my head. “Alec, this isn’t the way we do business. There’s a process. We need to vote. Others may want to throw their names in.”

  “I’m not going to pay if they vote someone else in.”

  I can’t believe my luck. Looking around the room, the men all look somber, but I know they’ll want the money.

  “Alec, you need to let us carry out our business, our way.”

  Alec smiles and nods. He winks at me, pats my arm, and strides out of the room.

  “Does anyone else want
to run for president?” I ask.

  “As if anyone is going to go against you now, Jax,” sneers Tank as he leans back in his chair.

  “Agreed,” says Ryan and looks to the man next to him.

  Around the room, one by one, they all vote me in.

  Reaper is the last to vote. He grins at me and nods. “Okay, you’re the new president, but…” he pauses and locks gazes with me, “… if you don’t bring this Wraith to justice, you’re gone. Banished.”

  I raise my eyebrows at him. “Banished?” Reaper nods. “Sounds like a fair bargain. I guess the only question I have for you all is, what do we do with the first one million dollars?”

  There is much laughter as my men look at me, most smile. Reaper holds out his hand, and I grasp it. He pulls me in close.

  “I’ll support you, Jax. But fuck this up, and I’ll carve our sigil off your back myself,” whispers Reaper.

  I let him go and nod. “I expect nothing less.”

  JAX

  With my cut on and my newly-found presidency patch firmly stitched to the front, I stalk out of the clubhouse with Hook following close behind. Reaper was voted in as Vice President, and Tank was promoted to Road Captain. This is not going to be an easy task. The key members of the newly-formed Chapter of the Harbingers of Death MC can barely stand to be in the same room with each other. I need to bind us together, and hopefully, the promise of money will go a long way in helping with that issue.

  As I mount my bike, I glance at the new hierarchy. “My house. Meet me there in twenty.”

  Reaper stares down at me, eventually nodding. The others follow suit. Hook starts his ride and backs out. I do the same. Hook points, and I grin. He’s taking his newfound job of babysitter very seriously. I pull out into traffic and head for home.

  Parked on the side of the road, leaning against his Mercedes is Petrov. He watches me as I ride past and holds up a hand in salute. Even though I only catch a glimpse of him, I can see he’s grinning.

  We go way back, Alec Petrov and I. The Harbingers of Death have been running girls, drugs, guns, anything the Russian mob needed moving. The partnership has been a good one for both sides. But Alec and I, we share a secret. It’s one of those deals where we watch each other’s back. Two million dollars buys a lot of trust—I’m not sure I want to be indebted to him for that much.