by S. Nelson
“How did they get them?” Ryder shouted, burying his head in his hands.
I continued after Ryder’s quick outburst. “We were told Braylen never checked in, even though her SUV was sitting there in the parking lot. Then…” I took several breaths, but the only thing the silence did was fuel my rage. “I tried Zoe over and over until the call finally connected. Only it wasn’t her who answered.”
“Who was it?” Trigger asked, his impatience matching those of everyone else in the room.
“Dutch.” My throat constricted on a hard swallow, the silence that ensued thick and stifling. We’d all heard about Dutch and what he liked to do to women using knives. I could barely wrap my head around the possibilities of what he’d do to Zoe and Braylen, just for fun, never mind as retribution for our part in igniting this fucking war back up.
“There’s something else,” I said. I hadn’t had the chance to tell Ryder this next part because everything happened so damn fast. “Zoe said there was a black truck driving erratically behind them.” Ryder picked his head up and stared at me. “She said he was gaining on her and I told her to keep going, asked if she could see what the driver looked like but she couldn’t, but she was able to see there was at least two men inside. I thought maybe it was the same guys who ran Braylen off the road, but then they passed Zoe off and drove off ahead.” I took a breath, but it didn’t do anything to calm me. “I don’t know if that truck was really following them or not.”
“It’s possible there were two vehicles involved. One to appear like they were following them, speeding up afterward, throwing the women off and another one who wasn’t as obvious.” One of Tripp and Hawke’s cousins spoke up that time. He shifted his weight to his other foot, glancing around the table quickly before looking at me, then Ryder, his eyes coming to rest on Marek soon after. “Ford Massey. This is my brother, Owen,” he said, pointing to the guy to his right. There was certainly a resemblance, not only to each other but to their cousins as well. Ford was an inch or so taller than Owen, and his brown hair was a shade darker.
“It’s not coincidental they were able to get to them the one time they didn’t have one of us with them. Those bastards have been watching, waiting for the right time to strike.” Jagger’s chest deflated. “We’ve been careful, but apparently not enough.”
“I told her not to go,” Ryder suddenly groaned. “She wouldn’t listen to me.”
“I was forceful with Zoe, too, but she was worried about Braylen and the baby. And I get it, but we were only a half hour out. Why didn’t she wait?” I asked more to myself than anyone else. Of course, no one had an answer, everyone glancing around at each other, fury and fear vying for top placement among the group.
“I say we light up their charter here. Burn that fucker to the ground,” Hawke shouted. “Then we don’t stop until we wipe them all from existence. They have another one in Santa Clara. We get rid of that one, too.”
“We can have the one close to us hit as well,” Nash offered. “Although you guys seem to have all the crazies up here.” He half chuckled, his face falling when no one seemed remotely amused.
“The only saving grace is that after the war between our two clubs years ago, they were never able to rebuild to what they once were. They’re much smaller now, only having four charters throughout the States. One in Tucson where Dutch is from, although he’s been spending a lot of his time here, one two hours north of Laredo and the two largest set here in Cali, one in Hilmar and one in Santa Clara.” Tripp ran his hand over the top of his head in worry. “And some of these local guys are as crazy as Psych was.”
Psych was the leader of the Savage Reapers during the early war. He also happened to have been Sully’s father, although I used that term loosely. He didn’t love or protect her. Instead, he used her however he could, abusing her himself before passing her off to Vex, another member of the club, who unfortunately turned out to be Tag’s father. Hence all the rage Marek felt when he found out, thinking Tag was part of them, bringing up all sorts of reminders of what happened to his wife.
“We have to find Zoe and Braylen first,” Marek retorted, the line in his forehead sharpening, directing his next question at me. “Did you try and call back? Did he make any demands? Tell you they wanted Maddie back? Anything?”
I didn’t need to look at Lincoln to know he was set to explode at the mention of Maddie. The second he took her from them, everything twisted upside down.
I understood why he did it. She’d been held prisoner and abused by them, but it didn’t make anything that happened afterward any easier. Some of the dancers from Indulge had been attacked, Ace was shot, then again, along with me, Ryder, and Tag when we went to Erin’s house, Pike’s sister, the Reaper prospect who was responsible for what happened to Maddie in the first place. He was the one who brought her back to his club, and he was also the same one who shoved her toward Lincoln during a fight between us and them after one of his bouts.
Too much had happened, and it seemed it wasn’t gonna stop until we extinguished every trace of those bastards once and for all. But every second they had Zoe and Braylen could prove detrimental. Would they kill them outright? Would they torture them first? The thought alone made me want to vomit, but I had to keep it together if we had any shot of devising a plan to get them back safely.
“No, he didn’t say anything, other than he’d be in touch.”
“In touch for what?” Jagger mumbled, asking the same thing we all wanted to know.
A moment of quiet passed, a moment needed for all of us to gather our thoughts, if that was at all possible.
“We have connections here if we need them,” Owen said, severing the silence, glancing to his brother and then to Tripp. “We can get whatever you need.”
“Meaning?” Cutter asked, his expression deadpanned, his eyes dark and unsettling. The ol’ man unnerved me sometimes with his quiet intensity, but I was happy he was on our side and not theirs. His appearance was deceiving to those who didn’t know him. His short white hair and clean-shaven face made him look like someone’s grandfather, unassuming and not dangerous in any sense of the word. And while he actually did have grandchildren, he was as fierce and as lethal as they came. Tag bore the evidence of what the ol’ guy could do without a second thought.
“Guns, explosives… like I said, whatever you need.”
“Old military buddies,” Ford added. “We’ll help you any way we can.”
Marek nodded. “We need to get everyone here. Now. And I mean everyone. Zander and Luke included.” Prez’s stare landed on Ryder. “Where’s Roman?”
I thought for sure Ryder was gonna have an episode, the blank look in his eyes dwindling right before he looked frantic. He had no idea where his son was, but I did.
“He’s with your neighbor. They didn’t want him to go with them in case something was wrong.” Ryder’s shoulders slumped after I spoke. “Your boy is safe.”
“I want him here too,” Marek said. “And as soon as all the families are present, we can plan. But I don’t want to risk anything and put more people in danger by going off half-cocked.”
“Half-cocked? You’d be doin’ shit differently if it was Sully they’d taken.” Ryder stood so fast his chair skidded behind him.
Marek stood next, his composure strained, his jaw clenched so tightly I thought his teeth would shatter. “Did you forget I had to hand over my wife to get Addy and Kena back? Do you know what that did to me?” Every step he took toward Ryder was calculated and I wasn’t sure if these two were gonna come to blows or not. “I let him strike her right in front of me.”
“But you got your revenge in the end.” Ryder’s words were muffled but I heard him, as did our leader.
“And you will too.” Marek was next to him now, his hand on his shoulder in support for what the man was going through. I watched their interaction but the selfish part of me wanted to shout that I was affected as well. Zoe wasn’t just Ryder’s daughter… she was my woman.
> Prez leaned in and said something else to him but none of us heard. Then he swiveled his eyes around the room. “Go and get everyone and come right back. Do what you gotta. Shut down the restaurant,” he said to Jagger. “And the salon.” He looked to Ace, then Lincoln that time since Chelsea and Riley were most likely working at Transform.
The sound of the gavel was amplified, and as men hurried from the room, I was left to stand near the door, wondering what was gonna happen next.
Ryder brushed past me, but I was able to grab his arm before he disappeared.
“Do you want me to come with you to get Roman?”
He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to. For as fucked up as my head was, I believed his was worse.
31
Drifting memories infiltrated as I rested against the wall, sunk into the corner of the room. I’d been in and out of consciousness too many times to count.
My body ached.
My head hurt.
My brain raced, then froze, only to resume the panic moments later.
Braylen was unconscious on the floor next to me, her breathing evened out. Was she dreaming? Was she even aware of what happened, even in her subconscious? There was no way for me to tell how long we’d been here. Was it an hour? Two? A day?
I winced at the invasion of light when the door jerked open, sounds of heavy footsteps slicing through the silence. The temperature in the room seemingly dropping twenty degrees in seconds. Closing my eyes propelled me further into darkness, but the obscurity couldn’t save me from being hauled to my feet. I tried to scream, but my throat was dry. The sound erupting was nothing more than a groan.
The man holding me against him smelled like a mixture of cheap body spray, smoke, and alcohol. This wasn’t the guy who attacked me, but I feared he was here to do the same thing.
“I heard about you,” he said, his voice harsh and raspy. “He said you were good.” Keeping my eyes shut amplified all my other senses, but I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want his image to fill my nightmares. It was better if the void remained, like the first time. “I wonder if your friend is any better.” One minute he clutched me close and the next I was thrown to the ground, a jolt of pain searing up my back from the impact.
Left with no other choice, needing to protect Braylen and her baby, my eyes flew open, and although the room was still bathed in darkness, there was ample lighting from the hallway illumination that I was able to at least see the form of the man hovering over my stepmother, even if I couldn’t readily make out his every feature.
“Leave her alone,” I yelled, or at least attempted to. I scrambled closer when he snatched her arm. He was quick, dragging her unconscious body across the floor, but I caught her ankle before he could disappear with her. I had no idea if he was going to take her out of this room or prop her against the wall like the other man had done to me. “Let her go.” That time, my voice was stronger.
He dropped her arm and walked back toward me, grabbing a fistful of my hair, and craning my neck back so I had no other choice but to look up at him. He had long hair, his strands falling forward and shrouding the sides of his face.
“You offerin’ yourself instead?”
“Wh-what?” I stuttered.
“Doesn’t make a difference to me.” His hold intensified and I wrapped my fingers around his wrist. Touching him made me sick, but I didn’t have a choice, trying to save more clumps of my hair from being ripped from my scalp.
“What do you want with us?”
“What do you think?” He yanked me to my unsteady feet once more. “I’ll let you choose this time. You or her.”
“Please don’t do this,” I pleaded, dangling next to him without a clue as how to escape, let alone convince him to leave this room without touching either of us.
“Choose.” His voice was calm. Too calm, and I feared him more than if he chose to shout. “Fine, I’ll try her.”
“No, no, no. I’ll go.” Tears drifted down my cheeks at the realization of what was about to happen, again. But I couldn’t let him hurt Braylen.
I stepped on something sharp, the jagged edge of a pebble cutting into the center of my foot. I winced but welcomed the distraction, a different sensation of pain I wanted to hold on to as he dragged me from the room and up a narrow stairwell. We didn’t fit side by side, which meant I tripped several times as he pulled me roughly behind him, the edge of the steps hitting against my shin, another smash of pain that was welcome over the alternative.
“Look what I got, boys.” Shoved into the middle of what appeared to be a living room, I was suddenly surrounded by three men. The one who brought me up from what I now knew to be the cellar of the house, which struck me as odd seeing as how basements weren’t common anymore in California, and his two buddies, one more menacing than the other.
“Please let us go. We won’t tell anyone.” They mocked my fear, repeating my words in a sadistic tone. With my head down and my eyes closed again, I didn’t want to see them, but my choice was stolen from me when a firm grip to my jaw wrenched my head up. The pressure made my lids pop open even though I wanted to remain in the dark.
The man looking back at me was big but not fat. He was tall, bald, as if he shaved his head on purpose, and clean-shaven. I wasn’t good with ages, but he appeared to be anywhere in his late forties to early fifties. I didn’t want to notice anything distinguishable about him, but I couldn’t help but see the red mark near his right temple. It looked to be a birthmark in the shape of a jagged letter Z. His black eyes bore into me, their blankness sending a shiver through my entire body.
“Oh, we want you to tell them exactly what we did to you,” he sneered, pressing his cheek against mine, his lips close to my ear. “I want you to describe every detail to him.” Who is he talking about?
His fingers curled around the back of my neck, his hold on me fierce. He moved his free arm behind him, swinging it back in front of him, only this time he brandished a large knife, the glint of the top catching a beam of light coming in through the window.
“I’m gonna make you scream,” he threatened, placing the tip of the blade high on my cheekbone, digging in with the slightest pressure. “And you’re gonna love it.”
32
“How long are we gonna wait? I need to do something now,” Ryder shouted, pacing around the large wooden table, talking to no one in particular, several others scattered throughout the room, mixed up in various conversations.
Tripp, Hawke, and their cousins were off in the corner, planning. I couldn’t hear the details, but I didn’t need to. I was too focused on my own thoughts and fears to give anyone else the proper attention.
Marek and Stone stood by the head of the table, locked in their own discussion while I planted my large self against the wall next to the door. Kaden had come in and out, as had Tag, asking if I wanted him to continue watching over Morgan. I saw a glint in the fucker’s eye when I gave my permission, but I grabbed him by the back of the neck and squeezed, threatening to do him harm if he laid a finger on her.
He still seemed pleased to be tasked with the duty, but I didn’t have time to reiterate my threat, Marek waving his hand in my direction to bring me into his and our VP’s convo. He asked more questions about what happened right before the women were taken, making me repeat myself, sometimes more than once. My patience died, replaced with dread, rage and a bit of uncertainty mixed in for good measure. A concoction big enough to drive me off the deep end if we didn’t act, and soon.
Outside Chambers, the rest of the guys switched between talking amongst themselves and huddling close to their families—those that had them. Trigger, Cutter, and our Laredo brothers kept to themselves more than not, which seemed to be just fine by the looks on their faces. They didn’t seem put out or on edge like the rest of us, but maybe that was because what was going on right now was familiar to them, that most of them had lived through this before.
I sure as fuck hadn’t.
With my fingers di
gging into the knotted muscles of my shoulders, I tipped my head back and toward the ceiling, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath. Then another.
Then another.
Zoe’s face appeared behind my lids and I shuddered. Would I ever see her again? Would I ever be able to hold her close, tell her how scared I was? Tell her how I truly felt about her? That I couldn’t live without her?
“Brick!” Marek shouted next to me, shoving at me when I didn’t immediately respond.
“What?” I growled back, reining in my temper when he scowled at me.
“When was the last time you called Zoe’s phone?” Ryder heard the question and snapped his head in our direction.
“Two minutes ago. Still no answer.” I’d been continuously calling since we all got back here, but that bastard wasn’t picking up.
“Try again,” he demanded, intently watching me as I turned the device over in my hand and selected her name. One ring… two… three… four… voice mail. I immediately redialed, but still there was still no connection.
Raised voices drifted in from the common room, pulling my attention even though all I wanted to do was slide down the wall and disappear. I couldn’t gather an ounce of curiosity to find out who shouted or what they argued about, my only concern this damn phone in my hand, waiting for it to finally ring and put me, put all of us, out of our misery. Or should I say… shove us further into it?
Time stood still while we waited for something to happen, for Marek to make a decision, for the Reaper to contact us, to find out when Ford and Owen’s guy was gonna come through with supplies… for anything and everything.
One deep breath after another left my body, my mind working overtime, twisting my heart, and desecrating any sense of calm I had residing inside me, which was but a sliver.
And when I thought the only thing left to do was rage, to destroy everything in my path, the ringtone I had set for Zoe sounded. Everyone in the room stopped talking and turned to stare at me.