by Faith Gibson
As she went about tidying up the already clean house, Kerrigan thought about everything she knew and what she didn’t. She needed to figure out where Gideon got his money. Where they kept the vehicles. Where they went when they needed supplies like fuel for the generators. She was glad the other two women had been taken to find husbands or whatever it was Gideon had done with them. The less people she had to interact with, the better. And she liked Sparrow, even if the girl was brainwashed. She was sweet, and that made it easy to like her and want to get to know her better. Kerrigan was curious as to how Gideon behaved at home when he wasn’t standing in front of the others teaching about right and wrong.
When Sparrow came to get her a little while later to eat lunch, Kerrigan got her first glimpse of a different side of her captor. After eating one of the most delicious meals she’d ever put in her mouth, Kerrigan now understood why everyone at the compound wanted to stay there. This wasn’t the man spouting scripture and talking about the evils of the world. This Gideon was funny. He was kind toward Kerrigan. He was complimentary of Sparrow’s cooking. He asked Kerrigan about her childhood, and he listened with rapt attention. He wanted to know about Ireland and her parents as if he genuinely cared. She knew better. After living with Dalton, Kerrigan knew a master manipulator when she saw one. Gideon’s caring nature worked where his flock was concerned. He was going to have to dig a lot deeper and make the Kool-Aid a different flavor to convince her he wasn’t the big bad wolf she knew he was.
Chapter Eleven
War
WAR strode over and ripped the tape off Dalton’s mouth.
“Son of a bitch! What do you want?” Dalton rocked the chair back and forth, trying to loosen the tape binding his hands together.
“We want to talk to you about Kerrigan.” Mav stood and joined War. Shoulder to shoulder, they glared down at the human.
“Kerrigan? What about her? Bitch ran off and left me with a ton of debt. She’s probably with that old bastard.”
“From what we hear, you took all her money out of her savings account. You gone through all that already?” Warryck asked.
“That was as much my money as it was hers. I caught her swapping spit with the old man, and I knew she was getting ready to bolt. She wasn’t leaving me high and dry, not after all I did for her.”
“All you did for her? Did you beat her like you did Tasha? Something must have made her leave in the middle of the night.”
“Nah, man. It ain’t like that. She was fine last time I saw her.” Dalton’s eyes were dilated, and he licked his lips after every sentence. Warryck had studied enough psychology to know the man was lying.
Maveryck slapped Dalton hard across the face, the man’s head jerking to the side. “Just like you’re going to be fine when I get done with you. Now, you can either tell us the truth, or you’ll end up worse off than Tasha was just now. A lot worse. Now fucking tell me what you know about Kerrigan.”
“I’m telling you. I haven’t seen her since that night.”
Maveryck hit Dalton in the stomach. It had been years, but Warryck had been punched by a Gryphon, so he knew how it felt. This man was a decent-sized human, but that didn’t mean he would be able to withstand being on the wrong end of a Gryphon’s ire. “You better tell us what we want to know. I’m not gonna stop my brother until you do.”
“I swear man. I haven’t seen her since the night she took off. Yeah, I might have gotten a little rough with her, but the bitch was cheating on me. When I got home, she was gone. I figured she either went to the old guy’s house, or she ended up at her folks’ place.”
Maveryck tossed a right hook across Dalton’s face. “Does that feel a little rough to you?”
Dalton spit blood onto the carpet but didn’t answer. While Maveryck continued questioning the man, War took a look around the rest of the house, careful not to touch too much. No need in leaving fingerprints just in case Dalton decided to rat them out to the cops. It didn’t take long to find the shrine Tasha mentioned. The closet door was ajar, and War flipped the switch on the wall outside the small room. The clothes on the far rack had been pushed apart, revealing row after row of photos stuck to the sheetrock with pushpins.
War’s breath caught in his chest. Tasha was a pretty woman with her long red hair and light green eyes, but she had absolutely nothing on Kerrigan O’Shea. Her hair was long and curly, and a deeper shade of red. Her eyes sparkled like emeralds. Bright and soulful. No wonder Dalton was so fixated on his ex. She was the most stunning woman War had ever seen. As much as he’d loved Harlow, even she couldn’t hold a candle to the woman in these photos. All the pictures were candid. Dalton must have hidden out with a telephoto lens, capturing Kerrigan’s essence when she didn’t know he was around.
The sound of fists meeting flesh reminded War what was taking place in the living room. He pulled one of the photos down, rubbing his thumb across her smile before placing it in his back pocket, telling himself it was to help him and Mav be able to identify her better. Right.
Mav kicked Dalton whose chair was on its side. Blood flowed from the man’s nose, and his lips were cracked open. His left eye was swollen shut. “I think he’s telling the truth.” Mav kicked him again before striding into the kitchen to wash the blood off his knuckles. When he returned, he was drying his hands on a towel. He shoved it in his back pocket and then leaned against the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.
War knew what his family did. He was aware they got bloody. Knew they got violent when the need arose. Being mercenaries was a dirty business but a necessary one. There were people in the world who governments couldn’t touch. Wouldn’t touch. There were factions and cults, families and leaders who only wanted power, and they would do anything to gain more of it. Then there were pieces of shit, like Dalton Watkins, who were nothing more than bullies who liked to beat on women.
Warryck might not be a member of the Hounds of Zeus motorcycle club, but he was a Hound in the truest sense – one of the Gryphons created by the god himself to protect humans, and he had no qualms with the way Maveryck gave Dalton a taste of his own medicine. Did the human beating on women warrant a death sentence? No, and that was why they walked out the door leaving him alive, if badly broken.
Before following his twin, War knelt down so he had the man’s attention. “If you ever put your hands on another woman in anger, we will end you.” Dalton grunted, whether in agreement or as a “fuck you.” War pulled the door closed using the tail of his T-shirt. Tasha could describe them to the police, but it was better to leave no fingerprints behind.
Mav was leaning against his bike, lighting a cigarette, his face pinched in anger. War asked, “Did you get anything useful out of him?” while tucking his tee back in. “He admitted to using the key he found in Kerrigan’s pockets to search Ambrose Tucker’s place, so that’s one mystery solved, but it doesn’t help us find her.” Mav pulled the red-tinged towel out of his back pocket and stored it in his saddle bag. “What’s next?”
“I say we head to White Mountain Forest and search for the missing car. Since Lucy didn’t see them leaving via any of the routes coming out of the area, my bet is they’re still there. As vast as the forest is, that gives whoever took Kerrigan plenty of places to hide. I’ve camped in several spots over the years, all of them different.”
“If it’s as vast as you say, it will take us a while to search the whole forest.”
War grinned. “Do you have anywhere else to be?”
Mav took one last drag on his cigarette before crushing it under his boot. He picked up the butt and stuck it in his pocket. “Can’t say that I do. The next few weeks were meant to be about bonding more than riding, so as long as you and I are together? That’s a win in my book.”
War couldn’t agree more. They straddled their bikes, and after setting the GPS, Mav led the way. It was a two-hour ride to the forest. The area around White Mountain fell on desperate times when the world collapsed thirty years ago. What had once been a t
hriving mecca for snow skiing was now small towns where only the toughest could survive. There were no thriving malls. No big box stores selling everything one would need to survive the harsh winters.
The ski slopes still stood tall among the valleys surrounding them, but the lifts hung overhead, swaying in the wind. It was one of the reasons War had chosen the area to camp in. Abandoned meant less people to run into and more freedom to shift into his lion. It wasn’t odd seeing an eagle flying overhead, even if said eagle was larger than most. But a lion? That was out of the norm for North America unless one escaped from a zoo.
Finding an abandoned car would prove difficult considering how many had already been left to become one with the vegetation of tree-covered graveyards. Their only saving grace would be the white car wouldn’t have had time to blend in to its surroundings. It had been several years since War had visited this particular area. During spring break, he opted to stay closer to home. In the past few summers, he had ventured west, looking for new places to relax.
As soon as they entered the forest where Lucy had last been able to track the vehicle, Mav pulled over on the shoulder so they could decide their next steps. Maveryck was the experienced mercenary, but Warryck was the seasoned camper. He better knew the areas to set up camp so they were both hidden as well as able to have a campfire without burning down the land around them.
Warryck pulled his helmet off and placed it over the mirror on the handlebar. He raked his hands through his hair as he looked around. “I think the first thing to do is find a camping spot where we can hide the bikes. Then we split the area into a grid with each of us taking a quadrant. We’ll meet back at the campsite after searching each if we haven’t spotted the vehicle.” The Hounds had small packs they used to store their clothes and phones that were the right size to carry in their talons. Since they were naked when they shifted back, they needed a way to carry clothes with them in case they had to shift back unexpectedly. “If we find the car before we meet back, we’ll shift and use our phones, assuming we can get a signal.”
“Sounds good. Do you have an idea where you want to set up camp?” Mav lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply.
It had been a long time since Warryck had joined his brother with a smoke, and the smell brought back lots of memories. Ones that gripped his heart and twisted. They had been so close when they were younger, and being there with Mav was reminding him of how things could have been for the last twenty-something years. Climbing off his bike, he strode over to Mav and held out his hand. Maveryck cocked an eyebrow but silently handed over his cigarette. After taking a long drag, War held the smoke in his lungs before expelling back into the air.
“If you’ll stay here with the bikes, I’m going to shift and take a look around. It shouldn’t take too long.” He reached into his saddle bag and removed the pouch for his clothes. Just in case.
“Sounds good. I’m gonna reach out to Ryker and check in. He was sending Hayden and Kyllian out on a run, and I want to see how it went.”
Warryck shouldn’t be jealous his brothers had a life without him. One in which they were all connected. He had made the decision to get married and go to college. Even if he hadn’t gotten married, Warryck had intended to study criminology and become a police officer like Sutton had done. There was no better man – Gryphon – than Sutton Lazlo, in War’s opinion. His father had been many things in his life, from husband to father, from soldier to cop, and all-around badass. Sutton was fierce in his love and even fiercer in his duty as a Hound.
War had wanted to be just like his dad, but he’d failed miserably. Not because he fell in love with Harlow, but because he’d allowed her to dictate how he should live his life. He’d thought giving her what she demanded was showing his love. All these years later, he had a feeling Harlow had been selfish in her ultimatums. His parents had the perfect marriage. Both Sutton and Rory did a lot of give and take, but at the end of the day, they compromised in what was best for the family. For the Hounds. Rory might not be in the MC, but Sutton never kept anything from her. They had a true partnership. War had wanted that with Harlow, and during the quiet hours of the morning when he lie awake wishing there was someone at his side, he still wanted it.
After walking several yards into the trees, War stripped down and folded his clothes before placing them in the pouch. He called on his eagle, and the change was instantaneous. Gripping the strap in his right talon, War launched upward so he could scan the area. He searched for the perfect spot to set up camp while keeping his eyes open for an abandoned car. He didn’t find the car, but he did find a spot next to a small creek. After returning to where Mav was waiting, Warryck shifted and dressed, walking barefoot to his bike. Mav was right where he left him, smoking another cigarette.
“I found a spot about a mile in. There’s an old path we can take the bikes on. It’ll be rough, but it’s passable.” He grabbed his boots and shoved his feet in.
“I do like it rough.” Mav grinned and winked, leaving War with his brows furrowed. He didn’t need to hear about his twin’s sexual preferences.
Warryck led the way, since he knew where the trail was. He hadn’t been kidding. The path was rough for two wheels, but their bikes were sturdy. Several of the Hounds were skilled in building machines from the ground up, and they made sure the motorcycles for the club were durable as well as comfortable. Well, as comfortable as two wheels could be traversing land less than suitable for a four-wheel drive. Warryck might not be a Hound, but he was a Lazlo, and as such, he was kitted with the same bikes as his brothers, thanks to Sutton.
The more he thought about his family, and the more time he spent with his twin, War’s future was becoming clearer. There just might be one less spot at the oak table once his vacation was up.
Chapter Twelve
Kerrigan
THINGS were certainly different now that Kerrigan was living with Gideon and Sparrow. She still had to attend Bible study. Her clothes remained the drab cotton uniform. There was no alcohol, music, or television. What Kerrigan had once taken for granted would now be considered a luxury. But she no longer had to work outdoors on her hands and knees every day, even though she missed the chance at seeing Mac. She’d hoped to become friends with the other woman.
Kerrigan spent her time cleaning, even though there was only so much cleaning one house needed. She convinced Sparrow to stick with the cooking, and Kerrigan took care of the rest. She didn’t mind, because if she let Sparrow help with the other chores, Kerrigan would have lost her mind from boredom.
Kerrigan got a better insight into the workings of The Sanctuary, or rather into how Gideon ruled his little world. He held meetings with the leaders of the cult in the chapel, but when he dismissed her and Sparrow to their bedrooms, she found out he also met with other men in his study, away from the members of his community. Men dressed in military gear. Men dressed in suits. Men who looked like they were from the city and not living off the land. Since Gideon’s house was set back away from the other living quarters, he was able to entertain strangers with no one being the wiser. No one but Kerrigan and Sparrow, and probably the other women who’d lived there as chosen ones.
When Gideon insisted she and Sparrow remain in their rooms until his business was concluded, she grew suspicious. Did he not know the two of them were aware of these men? Or did he think they couldn’t figure out there was more to the visits than dealing with sermons and living a simple life? Maybe Sparrow couldn’t figure it out. Maybe the girl had been there so long she thought it was how things had to be so the community ran smoothly.
Kerrigan knew better. And if these men were coming to the property, they had to have come in using vehicles. Kerrigan climbed atop her bed, balanced precariously on the headboard so she could peek out the small window situated near the top of the wall. There were no cars in sight. When the men left, she didn’t hear vehicles either. That meant they walked to the house. But from where? Just because they visited didn’t mean they were close to a town. T
he men could have traveled from miles away.
A few weeks after Kerrigan had moved in, a man came calling unannounced. Before Gideon could get out of his office and command her to her room, Kerrigan opened the door to find a man who resembled Gideon standing in a charcoal suit.
“Kerrigan, go to your room.” Gideon strode to the door, pushing her body behind his. The man smirked and leaned against the doorframe. “What are you doing here, Josiah?”
“Can I not pay my baby brother a visit?”
“Not without calling first. You know the rules.”
Josiah took a step toward his brother, and when Gideon stepped backwards, he ran into Kerrigan. “I told you to go to your room,” he snapped.
“You know, if she were mine, I’d want to keep her around,” Josiah said, entering the house, followed by several men. Kerrigan was curious as to what the unscheduled meeting was about, but she wasn’t about to hang around to find out. When Kerrigan turned to go, Josiah tugged at her wrist, halting her steps. “Stay,” he commanded, and she froze. Kerrigan looked between the two men, not wanting to make Gideon mad, but his brother held on tightly to her wrist.
“Take your hands off her.” Gideon’s eyes were colder than Kerrigan had ever seen, but his brother wasn’t fazed by the look or his command.
Instead, Josiah raised her hand to his lips and gently kissed her knuckles. “It was a pleasure to finally meet you. I hope to see you again very soon.” When he released his grip, Kerrigan hurried from the room. Climbing onto the bed, she sank back against the pillows, biting her bottom lip as she considered what the visit meant. These men weren’t members of Gideon’s flock. His leaders weren’t part of this secret gathering, so it seemed Gideon kept secrets from his people. If that were true, what did he have to hide? The way Kerrigan saw it, if the man was keeping things from his own community, he wasn’t a good man. Not that she had thought he was. He’d allowed her to be kidnapped, and when she arrived, he didn’t offer to get her home. He lauded Steven for bringing her to the compound. No, Gideon Talbert wasn’t a good man. She only knew his last name because she overheard one of the men in military gear greet him as such before she got her bedroom door closed.