STONE KINGS MOTORCYCLE CLUB: The Complete Collection

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STONE KINGS MOTORCYCLE CLUB: The Complete Collection Page 70

by Daphne Loveling


  Damnit. I hated to have her out of my sight for even a second. Striding over to the door, I pushed it open and walked out into a small, empty loading area. I could smell the remnants of cigarette smoke, but Andi was nowhere to be seen.

  Frowning, I took a few steps outside and looked around. Nothing. No sign of her anywhere. I was about to turn around and go back inside when a small orange light caught my attention. I bent to look at it and swore loudly.

  A half-smoked cigarette lay on the ground, its ember still burning bright.

  “WHERE IS SHE?” I roared.

  A contingent from The Throttle was guarding the entrance to the dead-end alley where I stood over the weasel-faced man Trig and the brothers had brought to me. As Pig and Repo held him, I pulled back my fist and slammed it into his face for the second time. A sharp crack told me I’d broken his nose. Blood poured from his nostrils down into his mouth.

  “You fucking tell me where she is or you will die, right here, right now,” I snarled. You hear me?”

  I had never been so goddamn furious in my life. The only thing that kept me from killing him from pure rage was the off chance he could tell me where Andi was.

  “I don’t know,” he mumbled through the blood.

  I punched him again, an uppercut this time that sounded like it broke at least a couple of his teeth. A strangled scream of pain died in his throat.

  “You better pray you do know something, because it’s all that’s keeping you alive right now.” Trig and Repo hauled him up and I landed a punch to his kidneys. The man bent over and retched.

  “Stop,” he wheezed. “I…” He retched again. “The boss was coming for her.”

  “Where the FUCK are they?” I yelled. I was completely out of control but I didn’t care.

  “Don’t… know…” he heaved. “If… if he took her…” He took several ragged breaths. “Black limo. They’ll be… black limo.”

  “God DAMN it!” I punched the fucker in the gut one more time just because I wanted to and whirled toward Trig, who was standing behind me. “We’ve got to find her. Now.”

  “Where do you think he’s taking her?” he frowned at me. “Could be anywhere.”

  “No fucking idea,” I began, but then remembered something. “Holy shit,” I exclaimed, and pulled my phone out of my pocket. I scrambled to turn it on, almost dropping it, and found the app I was looking for. A screen came up, with a small blue dot indicating Andi’s phone. It was moving.

  “Oh, thank Christ,” I muttered. “Trig, if Andi still has her phone, this is where she is,” I said pointing. “I need one of your bikes.” I’d ridden up to Denver with Andi, and the keys to her car were with her.

  “You got it,” he nodded. “But we’re coming with you. Repo, Pig. You’re coming with us,” he called.

  We found Tiny, who gave me the keys to his Harley, and headed out to the bikes. “Where’re they going?” Trig asked as we ran toward them.

  “It looks like they’re headed out of town to the north,” I said. “Maybe he’s stupid enough to take her back to his compound.”

  “If he is, that’s gonna be a shootout,” Trig growled. “Half The Throttle is up there.” He punched a number and spoke into the phone. “They’re on the lookout.” He nodded to me when he was done.

  I called Grey down in Lupine and told him to have his men keep a sharp eye on Aunt Lori’s house. I attached my phone to the GPS mount on Tiny’s bike, and as we flew out into the night in search of Andi, I hoped to God we wouldn’t be too late.

  24

  Andi

  ANDI

  I was sitting across from the man who had terrorized me as a child. We were in the back of his limo as it drove through the streets northward. I didn’t bother watching where we were going; somehow I knew he was taking me back to the house. I tried not to think about what would happen when we got there. I didn’t really have to. The way he looked at me — barely-concealed anger mixed with lust — told me everything I needed to know.

  My stepfather, he had aged far more than the six years since I’d last seen him. He had turned puffy and exhausted-looking. Gin blossoms dotted his cheeks. Whereas once he had been barrel-chested, powerful, his body had gone to fat, though he was such a large man I was sure his strength still dwarfed mine. It would almost have been possible to feel sorry for depleted-looking figure in front of me, if I hadn’t known him so well.

  And if my hands hadn’t been zip-tied in front of me.

  Then he began to speak, and all of my initial terror came flooding back.

  “Did you seriously think you could stay hidden from me?” my stepfather sneered at me. “Did you seriously think you would ever outwit me? I told you, Andi. I will always know where you are.”

  “No. I didn’t think I could stay hidden, Anthony.” I fought like hell to keep my voice calm. The only advantage I could possibly have over him would be to not let him see how afraid I truly was. “I knew you could find me any time you wanted. You notice I never changed my name. I never tried to hide. I didn’t care if you knew where I was.”

  He ignored me. “I assume that your mother and your sister are at your aunt’s house,” he said calmly. “My guards stupidly let them leave while I was away, and didn’t follow them. But since Lori’s house is being so heavily guarded, it’s not too hard to figure out that’s where they are.”

  I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to. He already knew the answer.

  “Does your mother think she’s going to be able to get away from me?” he sneered. “That stupid bitch. They can’t stay in there forever. For Christ’s sake, my men could go in there right now and take them all out, but I don’t need the aggravation of having one of that stupid dyke’s neighbors calling the police.”

  Anthony reached over to the wet bar, where an empty glass filled with melting ice sat waiting. He pulled out a bottle of expensive-looking scotch and poured it into the glass, filling it to the halfway mark, then raised it to his lips and took a long gulp, grimacing a little as it went down.

  I glanced out the window and saw with a sinking feeling that we were leaving the city limits of Denver on the highway that led toward Anthony’s isolated mountain compound. Once we were there, I’d have no chance of escaping Anthony and whatever he planned to do to me. An involuntary shiver went up my spine. I had to fight back. I had to figure out a way to get away from him.

  As I watched my stepfather suck down his drink, I kept my expression neutral and tried to think. I had no way of knowing whether he was armed, but I had to assume he was. Miraculously, the thugs that had shoved me into the car with him hadn’t thought to look through the small, mostly-empty messenger bag that was still slung over my shoulder. If they had, it would have taken them all of two seconds to find the Browning handgun I was still carrying with me. I guessed I had my gender and my relatively small stature to thank for the fact that they apparently hadn’t seen me as threatening enough to frisk.

  Which was all well and good, but it didn’t change the fact that I was still sitting in an enclosed compartment with my hands tied, across from a man who weighed at least twice as much as me. Even drunk, Anthony would likely be able to overpower me before I could manage to get the gun out and aim it at him. But all the same, I subtly shifted in my seat and moved the opening of the bag toward my lap, just a little closer to where my hands were.

  Up to now, I had been trying not to speak to my stepfather, but now it occurred to me that maybe if I got him to talk more, he’d be distracted from paying as much attention to me.

  “Mom didn’t want to leave you, Anthony,” I lied as I moved ever-so-slightly in my seat again. “She just wanted you to be nicer to her.”

  “Nicer to her?” he spat. He snorted loudly and poured himself another drink. “I gave that bitch everything. She didn’t have a goddamn pot to piss in when I met her. She was damn lucky I didn’t just treat her like the whore she was. She wouldn’t have anything if it wasn’t for me. You hear me?” He waved his drink toward
my face. “Nothing!”

  As he grew more agitated, I realized I’d chosen the wrong topic of conversation. “I know she appreciates it, Anthony,” I said hastily. “She just wants you to be happy.”

  Anthony sneered. “The fuck she does,” he muttered. “All she ever does is bitch and complain, bitch and complain. I don’t even know why I bother with her. I should just throw her out on the fuckin’ street.”

  “Then, why don’t you just let her go?” I asked. “She’s more trouble than she’s worth to you, so let her leave.”

  “Because no one takes what’s mine, you hear me?” he thundered. Anthony looked me in the eye and pointed an angry finger at me. “No one! That whore is my wife. Mine. She obeys me. Love, honor, obey! She needs to learn her fuckin’ lesson!” His eyes darkened. “Just like you do.”

  In spite of myself, anger swelled in me. “You can’t force her to love you, Anthony.”

  “I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he said, his lips drawing into an ugly leer. “You’re gonna find that out soon, little girl. I take what’s mine. I always get what’s mine. And no one stops me.” He leaned forward and reached for me, the hand that wasn’t holding his drink slipping between my thighs. I pulled back in horror, shivering in disgust at his touch, but there was nowhere to go. His hand slid higher, underneath the messenger bag, and I reached down and pulled it toward me, afraid he’d feel the hard metal of the gun and take the bag from me to look inside.

  Anthony’s mouth twisted in anger. He didn’t like that I was trying to resist him. Roughly, he reached for the tie that bound my wrists with the hand that held his drink. As he tried to pull me toward him he opened his mouth to speak, but just then the limo swerved sharply to the right, the tires shrieking against the pavement. Anthony and I were flung against the doors, hard, and he lost his grip on me as he fought to keep hold of his glass. With no time to think, I could only react and hope for the best. I lifted my right for, and kicked up toward him as hard as I could. The heel of my boot connected with the glass in his hand and drove it upward toward his face, smashing it against the bones in his cheeks and nose. Anthony screamed as the glass broke, shards of it cutting ribbons into his skin. The limo slowed and swerved again in the opposite direction, throwing me off balance and across the seat to the other side. I plunged my shaking hands inside my bag and felt for the gun. Wildly, I grabbed hold of the safety slid it down, then put both hands around the grip and fired toward Anthony through the bag.

  The sound was deafening in the small compartment. I saw rather than heard Anthony’s hands leave his face to clutch at his groin, his mouth contorted in agony. Without stopping I raised the gun and fired it again, higher this time. A red rose of blood bloomed across his chest as a flash of pain shot through my wrist. I could feel the cry as it left my throat, but there was no sound that I could hear.

  Across from me, Anthony was writhing, covered in blood. Somehow, the car had stopped, and I reached for the handle and pawed at it dumbly, ignoring the pain in my right wrist that was already becoming a dull ache. Amazingly, I got the handle to work, and pushed the door open weakly. I started to stumble out, when I was lifted off my feet and out of the car by a pair of strong arms. As the arms pulled me hard against a wide muscular chest, I knew who instantly who it was, even though I couldn’t see or hear him.

  Cal was there. Cal had come for me. It was okay. It was over.

  And then, as the muffled nothingness in my ears turned to a high-pitched ringing, I sank against him and lost consciousness.

  25

  Cal

  CAL

  The driver of the limo emerged from the car, gun drawn to protect his boss, but he wasn’t fast enough. He was on the ground with a bullet to the head before he ever knew what hit him.

  When the back door of the car opened and Andi stepped out covered in blood, I thought for sure she’d been shot. My heart leapt into my throat and I took her in my arms just as she stumbled out and lost consciousness. I carried her to the side of the road half-crazy with grief, certain I was going to lose her. By the time I’d felt all over for a gunshot wound and realized the blood wasn’t hers but her stepdad’s, it took everything I had in me not to burst into hot tears of relief. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d come so close to crying. And that was when I realized it.

  I was in love with Andi. Body and soul.

  I was supposed to be protecting her. And I’d come frighteningly, dangerously close to losing her. But I hadn’t lost her. Even though I’d let her down by leaving her alone.

  Andi had saved herself. My gorgeous, fierce, sexy as hell Andi had saved herself.

  And one thing was for sure. I’d learned my lesson. I was never letting Andi go. No matter what. After that night, she’d be lucky if I ever let her out of my sight again.

  Anthony Conley bled out in the back seat of the limo on that isolated stretch of highway, while I was still trying to make sure Andi wasn’t hurt. Given who he was, and the number of enemies he had, we didn’t figure the police would go looking too hard for his killer once they had identified him. So we left him and his driver by the side of the road, to be found later by the next poor fuckers unfortunate enough to pass through.

  Andi regained consciousness while I was still checking her out for wounds. Even though I tried every way I could think of to talk her out of it, she insisted on going back to the bar to make sure her bandmates didn’t think she’d skipped out on them. One of the brothers back at the club had given her band a doctored explanation for her disappearance, and convinced them to take the stage without her to play the second set. The bar owner was pissed at first, but when Andi showed up later, spattered in blood and telling him that she’d gotten caught up helping a car accident victim outside the club, he let it go.

  Since her wrists had been tied when she fired the gun at her stepfather, the awkward angle she’d had to hold it meant that the recoil had sprained her right wrist. But it wasn’t a bad sprain, and by the following week she’d healed up enough that it hardly bothered her anymore. She played her gig at The Oasis the following Saturday just like nothing had happened. And I was in the crowd, cheering her on.

  The night Andi shot her stepfather, I loaded her in the passenger side of the blue Kia and drove her back to her place in Lupine. I had called Grey and asked him to go to Aunt Lori’s house, to break the news to them all about Anthony Conley’s death. In the version Grey told them, Anthony was killed in a shootout by a stray bullet. I’d leave it to Andi to decide how much or little to tell them about what had really gone down that night.

  On the way home, Andi was surprisingly calm, despite the ordeal of the previous hours. At first, it seemed like she was taking it all in stride, but she grew quieter and quieter as we drove, and I knew the reality of everything that had happened that evening was just beginning to sink in.

  When we got back to her apartment, I didn’t ask her whether she wanted me to stay. I just helped her out of the car, walked her up the steps with my arm around her, and let us in with her key. Andi still had some spatters of blood on her arms and clothes, so I led her to the little bathroom and ran a hot bath for her. I undressed her, then myself, and got in the tub with her to bathe her. Andi started to cry as I washed her hair, silent sobs that wracked her body. I held her close until she stopped, saying nothing. Because somehow I knew that was what she wanted.

  That night, in bed, I told her I loved her as she clung to me, her hips rising to meet mine in desperate need. She called my name as she came, buried her face in my neck, and told me she loved me, too.

  26

  Andi

  ANDI

  Has there ever been something in your life — some landmark you pass by every day, or a picture, or even a crack in the wall of your room — that you’ve never really taken the time to look at up close? And then one day, for some reason, something about it catches your attention, and all at once it’s like you’re seeing it for the first time? While you’re looking at it, gazing in astoni
shment, some amazing detail you see turns that thing you’ve never really seen before into a completely unique and irreplaceable treasure. And in that moment, you realize that no one else sees it in exactly the same way as you. It is forever changed. To you, it’s unique, perfect, priceless.

  That’s how Cal became the most important person in the world to me. And to think: I almost didn’t even really notice he was there.

  Cal had been willing to stand next to me, at the scariest time in my life. He hadn’t hesitated to help me, to put his life on the line for me. For no other reason than that I’d needed him to.

  Somewhere along the line, I’d fallen in love with him. And I knew, more surely and deeply than I’d ever known anything, that he would keep standing beside me for the rest of our lives.

  Mom inherited the bulk of Anthony’s estate, though some of the shadier shit he had his hands in got tied up in a criminal investigation. She had to talk to the cops a few times, and even the feds once, but eventually they concluded she didn’t know enough about his dealings to be considered an accomplice to any of his crimes. Mom sold the compound north of Denver and bought herself a nice place on the other side of the city. Little by little, we started trying to repair our relationship. It went slowly at first, but I was hoping that in time, I could manage to move past my anger, even though I knew some part of me would never be able to forget that she’d looked the other way all those years ago instead of protecting her daughter from abuse.

  Alyssa took Anthony’s death hard, even though she was the one who had convinced Mom to leave. He was, after all, her father, and she had loved him in spite of everything. At my insistence, my mom got Aly into therapy. She seems to be doing well, though I know it will take her a while to heal.

 

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