Setting down my mug, I pull it free from my pocket and read the screen.
Mac: Hey asshead. Where’s Evie?
Jared: Out shopping.
I watch the three dots appear and disappear as she replies.
Mac: That bitch. We organised to go shopping together when I called her this morning.
Another message appears.
Mac: When did she leave?
Jared: She went shopping straight after her surf.
I pick up my mug, about to take a sip when her reply comes through. I set the mug back down, the niggle in my belly turning into a full-blown spasm.
Mac: She said she was coming home first to shower and change and she’d message me a time and place to meet her.
I go straight to the favourite contacts in my phone and dial Evie. She would never say that unless she was actually doing it, and if her plans changed, she would have let Mac know.
It goes straight to her answer message.
My stomach rolls over with a queasy thump.
“Everything okay?”
I look at Mitch. “No.” His shoulders straighten, his entire body going wired as he sets down his own mug. “Something’s wrong.”
I dial Casey.
He answers on the second ring. “Jared.”
“Did Evie show for her surf this morning?”
“Yeah, but I left early. Shit to do. It’s Christmas, mate.”
“Did she leave too?”
“Same time as me.”
My fingers tighten around the phone. “You actually saw her get in the car and drive away?”
“Well … no. I left first, but she was towelling off. Getting ready to leave.” His voice tightens up. “Why?”
“Because she never came home.”
There’s a pause. “What?”
My voice sharpens. “I assumed she headed out shopping. That was her plan for today. But Mac messaged saying they were supposed to go together.”
Casey’s tone is urgent. “Hang up now. Track her phone.”
“On it.”
I hang up, calling up the app on my screen.
Mitch is already dialling. “I’m calling Seth,” he says, referring to our manager at Jamieson and Valentine Consulting.
The app registers her location to Bondi Beach. She wouldn’t still be there. But if her phone powered down while she was there, it would be her last known location.
Mitch wraps up his conversation while I run shaky, impatient fingers through my hair. “I need to get to the beach.”
My brother nods. “Go. I’ll watch Wolf.”
The drive only takes minutes but feels like a lifetime, even with the speed I’m putting my vintage Porsche through, a car I refused to get rid of after our son’s arrival. Today, I’m thankful for that. Casey squeals to a stop beside me just moments later, his Corvette Stingray kicking up dust.
We get out simultaneously, Casey dressed in boardshorts and a muscle tee. I didn’t waste time with a shirt. A quick scan of the parking lot proves fruitless. There’s no sign of Evie or her blue Hilux. “Where were you parked?”
Casey tips his chin to the left. “Down that way.”
We jog over to where their cars were parked earlier, searching every surrounding inch of for some kind of clue.
“Jared.”
Casey’s voice is urgent.
I walk over to where he’s standing, hands on his hips and eyes on the ground.
I look down.
It’s Evie’s phone.
The metal is crumpled. The glass screen smashed.
Blood roars in my ears. I was hoping I was just overreacting, but this …
This …
I draw in a shuddering breath.
My voice comes out hoarse. “Not again.”
“Fuck.” Casey locks his jaw. “Jared, there’s something you should—”
The roar of a motorcycle interrupts whatever he was going to say. We both look up. Kelly is rolling in, Fox right behind him, Jake behind them both in his candy apple red Dodge Charger. The engines switch off and both are swinging their legs over when Travis pulls his Subaru in beside them. They emerge from their vehicles and all four converge on our huddle. Casey fills them in while I stare down at the phone, not touching it. We’ll need prints.
Coby’s own black Hilux screeches to a halt behind our group, blocking all of us in as he leaps out and jogs toward us, his face pale. “Where is she?” His voice rises to a shout and he comes at me, panic bright and hot in his dark brown eyes. “Where the hell is my sister?”
Kelly steps in, putting a hand on his chest. “We don’t know yet, but we’re sure as fuck gonna find out.”
Coby tries to push his way around him but Kelly is a massive dude. “How could you let this happen?” he yells at me.
“Let what happen?” Kelly responds. “Like I said, we don’t know shit yet. She could be out shoppin’ up a fuckin’ storm for all we know.”
Travis nods, phone pressed to his ear. “Mitch and Seth are checking her credit card activity,” he tells us.
“Where to from here?” Jake asks.
I gesture to the shopfronts across the road from the parking lot. “We need to canvas the area. Ask to check security cameras for footage.”
Coby makes a sharp, frustrated sound. “We need Mitch for that. God help them if they start asking for warrants.”
Warrants. The fucking irony.
Travis hangs up. “Mitch is on his way.”
My gaze shoots to my brother, a question in my eyes.
He answers. “Mum’s just picked up Wolf.”
I nod, breathing in a deep, pained breath through my nostrils while we wait.
“Any idea on what might have happened?” Travis looks to Casey. “Did she seem upset this morning during your surf? Agitated? Scared?”
Coby narrows his eyes on mine. “Piss anyone off lately, Jared? Another revenge scheme, maybe?”
I go still, and Travis gets in Coby’s face. “No. You don’t get to do that.”
“No,” I tell him, my voice low. “I haven’t pissed anyone off lately.”
Casey gives me a look I can’t interpret. “Actually, Jared, can I talk to you? In private?”
All eyes swivel his way, until an ice blue mustang screeches in behind Coby’s Hilux. It’s Ace’s car. Unmistakeable. And it’s not just Ace who gets out. It’s Mac and Quinn. Grace too.
How Mac managed to mobilise the girl posse in such a rapid fashion is beyond me.
“Jared,” Casey prompts.
I leave Travis to deal with the female contingent and follow Casey to a spot out of earshot. “What is it?”
“Jared!” Kelly’s voice is a boom across the parking lot. His phone is pressed to his ear and he’s looking at me with fear in his eyes. I’ve never personally seen fear in that man’s eyes. Ever. “It’s the Vipers. The Black Vipers have her.”
My stomach knots.
“Fuck,” Casey mutters from beside me, going pale.
I start towards Kelly. The Vipers. Why would they have snatched up my girl?
“Jared, wait.”
Casey grabs me by the bicep and I come to a stuttering halt. “What?” I bark, turning my head, feeling sick.
“Evie’s pregnant.”
3
EVIE
My eyes blink open slowly. I’m in bed. It’s dark and my head is foggy. I know I didn’t drink last night so it can only mean I’ve woken at a crazy hour. Again. Why, insomnia? Why? I snap my lids closed in a bizarre sense of déjà vu and try to recapture sleep.
I snuffle into my pillow, starting to drift off again when something niggles at me. Something important. Something big. Something so much worse than hosting Christmas Day at my house.
Oh shit. Wild Renny. The Black Vipers. Kidnapped. I fly off the strange bed I’m in with a panicked breath. The tangled sheet around my legs brings me down hard. My knees hit the floor with a thud. So does my face. I turn my head at the last minute and my cheekbone smacks the floor
with powerful gusto. My brain wobbles inside my skull and I blink back tears.
Fucking balls.
I inhale with a wheezy groan. That hurt like a raging bitch.
I roll and flail on my back like a turtle, trapped and kicking out with my legs. Sitting up, I palm my swelling face with one hand, using the other to remove the threadbare linen from around my legs. When I’m free, I look to the closed blinds of the window. There’s pale light filtering through and I know instinctively it’s Christmas. Wolf will be waking without his mama, not understanding why I’m not there. He’ll be opening presents without me, because even though Jared is likely losing his shit right now, he’ll also be doing everything he can to make sure Wolf doesn’t feel it.
Hot tears fill my eyes. Angry tears. Renny. That sonofabitch is not going to steal Christmas out from under me.
A panic attack starts to rise and I roll to my hands and knees, quickly forming the child’s pose. After inhaling deep shaky breaths, one after the other, they start coming a little slower, and a little calmer. I remember the pose from that one time Mac and I attempted a yoga class together. It was about three months after the birth of her daughter, Gabriella. The lack of sleep morphed her into Mac 2.0. We already ran for cover when we saw her on a tear, but after Gabriella’s arrival, we dived for cover. Drawing the short straw, Jake suggested yoga. She tried it, I’ll give her that, before informing us that if the game of cricket and a slow internet connection had a baby, it would be yoga, and if we made her do it again, she’d smother us in our sleep. So that was that.
Knowing the door is likely locked, I rise to my feet and give the handle a good yank anyway.
Nothing. I’m a prisoner.
I yank again. Harder. It doesn’t budge.
My panic returns, undoing all my deep-breathing efforts. I can’t be here. I can’t. I can’t.
“Renny!” I yell, banging the backs of my fists against the door, pummelling loud and hard. It’s sturdy and barely rattles. “Fuck you, Renny! Let me out, you sonofabitch!”
No one comes so I try the window, shoving the blinds across. Early morning light hits me, along with the rise of a huge mountain and thick metal bars. I spin around, looking for something that could help me out of here. Anything. My eyes scan the room and come up empty. There’s nothing but a mattress ensemble and sheets. I look up. A camera sits in the top right corner of the room.
Those bastards are watching me. My jaw sets with anger. I’m about to push the bed against the wall so I can stand on it and rip the damn thing out when the door opens.
I’m expecting Renny but instead it’s a woman. Her head is tilted down like she’s trying to avoid my gaze. She’s my height, and maybe my age, it’s hard to tell without seeing her face properly. Her denim shorts are tiny and frayed at the hem, her tee shirt plain and black, the sleeves rolled to her shoulders. The cotton is thin and tight and rides up at the waist, exposing a fair expense of belly. She turns and I notice it’s tied at the small of her back, the knot almost hidden amongst the long tangle of white-blonde waves.
The skimpy outfit exposes a tattoo that winds around her hip and waist. A viper. Its head rests on her hipbone, its eyes dark and malevolent.
A shiver trips down my spine.
She carries a tray of food in her hands, and she bends and sets it on the bed. Coffee rises up and tickles my senses, but my attention is caught by the unguarded open door.
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” Her voice is a little stilted and low, but it’s not malicious. It’s serious, her tone grave. It’s enough to make me rethink my mad dash for escape. Leaving the tray, she straightens and turns, looking at me, her face lifting almost reluctantly.
I suck in a breath.
Her eyes are the purest blue I’ve ever seen, like deep arctic ice, yet somehow they’re full of fire. Her skin is flawless, her tattoo seeming out of place amongst so much perfection. She’s a puzzle with pieces that don’t seem to fit, like the game ‘one of these things is not like the other.’ She doesn’t make sense.
She shifts under my stare and I realise she’s somehow familiar. I don’t know her, but I’ve seen her somewhere before.
It niggles at me as I ask the question. “Why?”
“It’s safer in here.” Her voice lowers further. “You’re safer in here.”
“Where is here?”
She shakes her head. “You’re better off not knowing.”
I grab her by the wrist when she turns to leave and she snaps to a halt. “Help me.” I’m not above begging. “I need to get out of here.”
Her eyes shift to the camera in the corner and back to me. A subtle reminder that I’m being watched. I don’t care. I need to leave. I need to wrap my arms around my baby. I need my husband. I need to tell him I was stupid. I kept my grief invisible. I didn’t want him to know I was hurting, but he was hurting too, and we should have been hurting together, dammit. Why is it so easy to see now, here in this godforsaken place with some woman who looks like an angel from heaven and speaks with a shrewd and knowing tone of Gandalf the Grey?
My eyes begin to burn and my nose fizzes. I swallow, my voice a pathetic whisper. “Please.”
“I can’t just walk you out of here,” she hisses, jerking her arm free of my grasp. She goes to leave and hesitates. “You need to pull yourself together. If they see weakness in you they’ll exploit it until you’ll wish you were dead.”
Terror floods my throat, thick and cloying like molasses. This isn’t Jimmy all over again. This is something altogether worse. Why would Renny do this? Why would this beautiful, snowy goddamn white owl align herself with such evil? “Why am I here?”
Her jaw works as if she’s debating telling me.
“Why am I here, dammit?”
“You’re married to a Valentine,” she replies as if that’s all the answer I need. And maybe it is. The Valentine brothers are a force to be reckoned with. But they’ve pissed off a lot of people. They’ve brought down a lot of wealthy, influential criminals. Their presence alone has thwarted all manner of corrupt and devious activity.
But kidnapping me? That doesn’t make sense. What do they want? Money?
The woman in front of me shakes her head as if hearing my thoughts. “War.”
“What?” I can’t seem to catch my breath. “Did you just say war?”
“Yes. The Vipers took you. There’s going to be war over this, Evie.”
“Hell.” My curse is a frustrated whisper. “All the more reason to get me out of here.”
She shakes her head. “You need to stay here where it’s safe.”
“Safe?” Why does she keep saying that? “I’m right in the middle of a viper nest and you think I’m safe?”
“You’re safe here, where you’re protected.”
My eyes widen at that. “Protected?”
A biker appears in the doorway. He’s a large tank of a man, his shoulders stretching far and wide. His dark brown eyes level on the woman. “Angel,” he barks, his voice gravel. Is that her name? Angel? It’s the only piece of her that seems to fit. “You’re done here. Go.”
She doesn’t turn to look at him but her nostrils flare and her chin lifts a touch. In that moment I see eyes full of hate.
“Didn’t you hear me, bitch? Get out.”
“Fuck you, Kermit.”
The man grabs the knot at the back of her shirt and yanks her to him, her back to his front. He seizes her by the jaw, his fingers digging into the flawless cheeks of her face. “Call me Kermit again, bitch, and I’ll slit your throat.” A whole head taller than she is, he wrenches her head upward so she’s looking at him upside down. “I’m either Knight, or when my cock is inside you, I’m God.”
She jerks her head back down. Her eyes find mine and there’s something about her I can’t put my finger on. A familiarity, which doesn’t make sense because she’s a Black Viper and I’ve never met a member before. I never planned to either, and yet here I am.
Gabriella was a Black Viper once
, but she wasn’t a real one. She was …
And then it hits me.
Gabriella’s funeral. I got up alone to sing a rendition of Amazing Grace. No music. Just me. My chest ached with loss and my eyes burned raw, and the notes that rang out inside the large, packed church wobbled. That’s when I saw her. She slipped inside, standing in the back. Despite her shattered expression, she gave me an encouraging nod and stayed for my song. And as my gaze roamed above the heads of everyone I knew, meeting the eyes of no one, it returned to the back of the church as the last note rang out to find her gone.
Angel must see the recognition in my face because her eyes flare in warning. Kermit’s grip tightens even more and a growl escapes through her mashed lips. “Maybe we should show her the kind of fun we have around here. Whadda ya say, Angel babe?”
“Fun?” She snorts, but I see the wince of pain, there and gone before I can blink. “You don’t even know how to make a woman orgasm. Fun, my ass.”
“Remind me why I keep you around?” he growls, his arm snaking around her waist, his hand sliding across the face of the viper on her hip before he shoves it inside her pants with a brutal jerk.
A cry of pain leaves her lips, the sound muffled as he squeezes her face harder, holding her tighter against him.
“Remind me!” he yells.
“Because you don’t like your women weak,” she gasps.
“That’s right. I like ‘em with a backbone. It makes breaking them so much more fun.” Laughter rings out as she squirms and he looks at me. “No one is allowed to fuck Angel but me. I don’t like used goods.” His eyes darken on mine as his hand shoves further inside her denim shirts. This time there’s no mistaking the wince of pain on her face. “You’re used goods, Evie, but you got a backbone so I’m willing to make an exception. We could even get it on video. Put it on the internet for everyone to see. All your fans. Your family. Your husband. He wouldn’t touch you again after seeing that.” His hand thrusts and jerks and my stomach rolls. “You know why? Because every time he closed his eyes he’d see me jamming my cock inside your tired, over-worked pussy, and his own would shrivel up and die rather than touch you again.”
My chest squeezes at the horrific image he’s trying to plant in my head. “I would kill you first.”
Give Me War Page 3