DOUBLE TREBLE (A TWIN ROCKSTAR ROMANCE)

by Nikki Wild

  “Up the chain?” I asked. “What are we talking about here? Are there a lot of people on this? An organization, maybe?”

  “No organization,” EagleEye calmly confirmed, “but a lot of mystery. Whoever owns that container wants nobody to find them under any circumstances.”

  “What are you telling me?” I asked.

  EagleEye sighed deeply. “Hunter, I haven’t seen this kind of security over a single box before. Whatever is in that thing can’t be good.”

  “That sounds dangerous.”

  “It probably is,” she replied. “There was nothing in the records indicating that it had ever been opened. There isn’t a soul in that port that knows what’s in there, or who owns it.”

  “But you know,” I pressed forward. “You followed it up the chain. You know who owns that thing.”

  “I do,” she replied. “And maybe that should be the end of it. You can hang up right now and I’ll forget you ever asked about that container.”

  “My girlfriend is chasing after this thing. I’ve got to know what we’re dealing with here, and how deep this shit goes.”

  “Is that your final answer?”

  “This isn’t a fucking game show,” I told her, starting to lose my patience. “Are you going to give me a goddamn name or not?”

  The line went quiet for a moment.

  “Soroka Sarkonov.”

  My vision went fuzzy in an instant, and I became very, very aware of my breathing.

  Oh god, no.

  “I take it that you grasp the gravity of your situation now.”

  “Yeah… I’ve only heard stories, but the few times that name came up were in some very dark circles,” I replied.

  “Whatever stories you know, I can probably confirm them,” my associate replied over the line.

  “I understand Soroka Sarkonov to be one of the deadliest and most dangerous international arms dealers in the world,” I told her. “Death and destruction follows that goddamn name. She’s so far up the fucking food chain I thought she was a myth.”

  “She’s real, Hunter,” EagleEye told me. “She’s not an organization, or a crime syndicate, or even a group. She is a single woman, a very dangerous woman who lets others do her dirty work. She calls them her proxies… And I can only imagine that she is very angry that her container has gone missing…”

  “Did you get any leads on the container?”

  EagleEye paused. “Hunter, once I realized who I was dealing with, I trashed all of my equipment and bought this burner phone… But it wasn’t enough.”

  A silence fell over the line.

  What the hell does she mean it ‘wasn’t enough?’

  “Are you there?”

  Her distant voice came through. “I’m going off-grid, Hunter. Don’t try to contact me again. But before I go, I have a message for you.”

  “A message from who?”

  “From our friend, Soroka…”

  I paused for a moment, then held the phone tighter against my ear.

  “Go ahead…”

  “Soroka says that you need to help Sarah find the crate. If you don’t, she’s going to kill her… slowly.”

  Before I could respond, the line went dead. White hot anger mixed with cold fear. Nobody threatens my woman. Nobody threatens my unborn child. I’d find this fucking container, and when I returned it to its rightful owner, I’d show her just how big of a mistake she just made.

  Soroka Sakonov just made an enemy.

  Sarah

  My morning sickness and pregnancy symptoms had been really starting to act up, although I hadn’t let Hunter see any of that.

  I stayed tired.

  My breasts were always tender.

  Peeing was constantly on the agenda.

  Wicked food cravings were my life.

  I kept my shit together because I had a case to solve, a biker to scrutinize for fatherhood potential, and a long-lost sister to said biker baby daddy thrown into the mix.

  Life was getting pretty strange.

  Unfortunately, it turned out that Daddy’s friends trying to dig up information on the Port of Los Angeles were coming up with dead ends. They confirmed that a major chunk of the port was under the thumb of the Los Angeles Devil’s Dragons, but that was nothing I didn’t already know.

  Which reminded me that I hadn’t quite gotten around to telling him about Hunter and this pregnancy…

  As far as Daddy was concerned, Hunter disappeared from my life eight years ago, after he narrowly escaped a police raid that claimed the lives of some of his club members. He knew that I never quite got over my childhood love, but when I threw my life into following in his footsteps, concern soon swelled into pride.

  I shuddered to think how that situation would change when I finally dropped the bomb.

  Unfortunately, involving him in my case hadn’t produced much in the progress department. I was no closer to finding that stupid storage container.

  I was starting to think this whole trip might be a bust…

  On top of that, my fears with Hunter continued unresolved. We got along pretty great, except when it came to the case. His resistance to stepping into Talon’s territory was getting old, and that was seriously holding me back.

  Sure. Hunter had told me some pretty spooky stories about the guy.

  But he couldn’t be all that bad.

  What was the worst that he was going to do, have us thrown out? It was a huge port. There was no reason that we couldn’t just sneak back in and do a little investigation under nightfall.

  At least there was Hannah.

  Hunter’s sister was fucking awesome. She impartially listened to my complaints without spitting them back out to her brother. Years apart had made her pretty good at the business of keeping secrets, and she made a good sounding board for some of my troubles.

  Hannah understood my need for independence. Hell, she even encouraged it. She told me I should keep looking for this container no matter what. If I was going to make it in this world, I needed to be sure I could do it with or without Hunter… It was an interesting but welcome perspective, balancing out from Hunter’s notions of what I should and shouldn’t know, and what I should and shouldn’t do…

  I knew that he didn’t quite oppose me on my desires to pursue the case, but I was just waiting for the day that he decided to go off the deep end with it.

  I didn’t have to wait long.

  Having adopted the habit of taking a drive to clear my head during frustrations over the case, I was just paying out at a diner for lunch when I got the phone call that would change everything.

  Something loomed in the air as I glanced at the caller ID, but I ignored my gut reactions and took a deep breath.

  I picked up the phone. “Hunter?”

  “Princess, something’s happened. You and I have got a serious fucking problem on our hands.”

  There was something about the tone in his voice that was new. The only time that I’d ever heard him this rattled was when Hannah went missing in Mexico…

  “What is it?” I asked tentatively.

  Hunter took a deep breath against the other end, and then hit me with the bad news:

  “You have to drop this case.”

  “What?” I was dumbfounded.

  There was no way that I was doing that.

  “Hear me out,” he pleaded down the line. “We just found out who owns that missing box, and I’m gonna be taking care of this one without you.”

  “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

  “I wish I was, babe. Honestly, I do. But you’re gonna have to walk away from this one. I want you out of here by tomorrow. I have a safehouse you can stay at until everything blows over. I’m scared of what might happen to you.”

  No way, I told myself.

  Is he just trying to keep me dependent?

  “This is coming from the guy who struck down a Mexican cartel twice,” I reminded him, shoving my doubts back down for the moment. “I thought you were fearless. Wh
ere the hell is that indomitable spirit?”

  “Princess, I’m alive today because I know when to fold ‘em. You’re putting yourself and our baby in some seriously deep shit. I’ll take care of this, and once I do, I’ll come back to you…”

  He did sound legitimately alarmed. Either he was acting, or something had shaken him. “Let me ask you something, Hunter… who the hell scared you this bad?”

  Hunter took a deep breath.

  “Your detective’s missing container belongs to Soroka Sarkonov, an international arms dealer. I know the name means nothing to you, but Soroka is more dangerous than you can possibly imagine.”

  He seemed rattled, but how dangerous could she really be? Who was one woman in comparison to the Viboras Verde?

  “Princess, this is bad,” he reiterated wearily. “Sarkonov is so many leagues above the Outlaws, above the cartels, above everyone. The woman’s a legend in the underworld.”

  “So what do you know about her?”

  Hunter thought on this. “I didn’t, not really. Not until just now… I’d heard the name, but I thought she was just the fucking boogeyman of the underworld. And my trump card had to work through layers of secrecy just to get to the name…”

  “Alright, so tell me about this ‘Sarkonov,’” I insisted. I was doing my best to keep my voice from sounding too weary at his sudden spiel.

  “Soroka Sarkonov is an international arms dealer who works through proxies… representatives who meet with cartels, criminal organizations, and warlords on her behalf. Allegedly, she’s financed coups, armed dictators, and called down assassinations. Her whole thing is shrouded in mystery, and when someone goes off-script, heads roll.

  “There’s no telling who her proxies actually are, or how many there are… could be one, could be fifty. But when one of these people shows up, nobody crosses them, and nobody exposes them. It’s a fucking liability just to deal with one of Sarkonov’s proxies, in case you piss off the woman in charge…”

  “This shit is way bigger than us, Princess. I’d never imagined that she actually existed, or that you or I would ever wind up on her radar. I have to get you somewhere safe before I figure out my next moves, or else you and the baby are going to be in serious danger…”

  “You’re spinning me a good story,” I smiled confidently against the phone, “but you’ve gotta be kidding me if you think I believe it for a second.”

  “You’ve gotta listen to me, Sarah,” he insisted quickly. “Soroka Sarkonov is real. She’s connected to that shipping container. She’s the one who paid you to find it through one of her fucking proxies and there’s no way in Hell I’m going to let you keep looking.

  “Do you understand me?”

  There was a conspicuous pause.

  “No, Hunter, I’m don’t,” I replied as coolly as I could. “I get it. You don’t want me working on the case. But you don’t have to make up some shit about scary arms dealers to try and prove a point.”

  “Sarah,” he growled down the phone, “I want you to listen very carefully to me…”

  “No, Hunter, it’s time that you listened to me,” I retorted angrily. “I have put everything – EVERYTHING – on this case. Do you think it’s easy for a private eye to find work when they ran a quick, week long stint as a detective?

  “I struggled to just get my foot through the door on this one. I need you to understand something: this is it. I have to find that container. I’m being paid one hell of a lot of money to do it, and there are more jobs coming if I can pull it off. I’m going to make a life for myself after the fallout from Juarez. This is my chance.”

  “Princess, you’re not thinking straight–”

  “No, this is the straightest I’ve thought in a long time,” I bitterly cut him off. “When you left my life, I threw myself into police work. I ground myself to the bone to build up my career, and the second I got promoted into being a detective, you came back into my life.”

  “You came to me,” Hunter countered, trying to stop my momentum. “Just like you stood there and let me leave without you, in the middle of a goddamn police raid led by your father–”

  “DON’T,” I lashed out. “Don’t you dare... I threw my entire career out the window on my first detective case to help you, and I–”

  “You helped me save the lives of fifteen girls that nobody knew about, and the three missing cheerleaders you were sent to find, Sarah. Are you forgetting how important that is? You even found the plans we’ve been using to cripple the rest of the cartel!”

  “I’ve just become a private investigator… I had to work for months to build myself up and find a case to take… and the first one I land, here you are, trying to force me to give up…”

  When Hunter responded to that, his voice was flush with surprise, betrayal, and bitter disappointment.

  “If it’s between you dying in a puddle on the fucking floor or living to help me raise our child, then yes, I’m asking you give up yet another career…”

  My chest swelled with indignity.

  He continued angrily: “I know you want your independence, but you’re pregnant. You don’t need to be out there doing shit like this! What if you get hurt? What will you do if you lose the kid?

  “I can take care of you! We can take care of you. I love you, Sarah. I’ve always loved you. And I’ll always take care of you and the baby…”

  My boiling point was met, and everything I’d held in all this time came roaring out.

  “Can you, Hunter? Can you really take care of us? Because the last time I checked, not only did you not have any kind of remotely stable situation, but you willingly throw yourself into danger against the kinds of people better left to fucking INTERPOL!

  “What if you’d died during that fight against Viboras Verde? What if you died when you attacked them the first time, the one eight years ago?”

  “Sarah, don’t do this,” Hunter replied, trying to cut me off, but I wasn’t done.

  “You and your club fly around the desert, no place to call home, and you lead a small army of thugs and criminals. What happens when they get police attention, and the finger gets pointed your way? Or when the peace breaks, and civil war opens up? What about when your little club draws the wrong attention and you spend more than a couple of nights in prison? You can’t keep us safe, Hunter. I’m an idiot for even thinking you could. I’m not letting my child grow up in a motorcycle club one step away from the street…

  “Sarah,” he said again.

  “Don’t you dare ‘Sarah’ me. I can’t count on you, Hunter. I need my independence so I can care for this baby no matter what happens to you. I couldn’t care less if the stupid goddamn crate belonged to Satan, Prince of Darkness… I am pursuing this case, with or without you… and if you decide to make it without, then don’t you dare try to stop me.”

  The silence on the phone line filled the air with something heavy and toxic. For a moment, I almost regretted snapping so viciously at him…

  Panic grasped at my lungs.

  What the hell had I just done?

  “Fuck you, Sarah,” he growled.

  My world came shattering down.

  “Hunter… I…”

  “I have done nothing but try and keep you safe, ever since we were stupid fucking kids,” Hunter snarled down the phone. “You were so desperate to follow me down this path, and I tried to stop you. It broke my fucking heart. I’m telling you that you can’t keep looking for this container. Let me put you in a safehouse and I’ll handle this shit.”

  The phone was quivering in my hand against my face. At first it was fear, but now it was anger.

  Who the fuck does he think he is?

  My patience had run out.

  With him…

  With this…

  I was done with everything.

  “Sarah, if you don’t drop the case–”

  “I’m not dropping the case, Hunter,” I told him under no uncertain terms. “I’m going to Los Angeles, like I just said
, with or without you. If you’re not man enough to support me and help me with Talon, then I’ll go myself.”

  “Listen to me, Sarah. You have no idea what you’re doing,” Hunter pleaded down the phone. “I’m asking – begging–”

  “Goodbye, Hunter.”

  With an angry swipe of my thumb, I hung up the line. Moments later, my phone was on silent as I stepped out beneath the hot El Paso sun.

  It felt great to be in control.

  It felt great to turn Hunter down.

  Since he clearly wasn’t going to support my independence or my career, I would just have to prove him wrong and crack this case wide open by myself. Hannah was right. I needed to put this baby first and find that shipping crate.

  If I was fast, I could be in Los Angeles by morning.

  I turned the key in the ignition.

  I hit the gas.

  The rocks scattered behind the big wheels on the back of the Crown Victoria, and I was on my way towards this case, towards that port, and towards my fucking destiny.

  Hunter

  The entire gang roared around me as we rode hard onto the interstate, prepared for the long and difficult drive to Los Angeles. Thirteen hours of riding stood between the port and us; we would be left alone with only our thoughts for the long and harrowing journey.

  I instructed my Dragons to bring weapons, just in case. Most of them packed pistols and handguns, although I spotted a few strapping shotguns over their shoulders. We had no idea what we were riding towards, but I wanted to be ready for anything.

  We were going to be fucked if we ran into the local law on the way across a few states, but it was a gamble we were willing to take.

  At least Hannah was still safe.

  When I’d updated her on the news, she’d wanted to come along, but I wasn’t about to bring her into this shit. I offered to let her stay in the bar alone for a few days, not knowing when we’d be back, but she chose to say her goodbyes and hit the wind.

  “You have enough to worry about,” she had told me.

  “You focus on Sarah and the baby. Let me work on figuring out who the hell was sending us those letters. I’ll find you when I have answers. Don’t go getting yourself killed in the meantime.”