Specter's Wake

by Quinn Ryder

  Cipher grinned, extending his hand, “I’m Cipher, newest member of the Devil’s Armada. Nice to officially meet you.”

  “I don’t think you have the right person. I’m a nobody.”

  Cipher walked back over to the chair he was sitting in, grabbed something off of it, before turning to pull the chain on the cheap lamp near the bed. The crappy light bulb barely illuminated the bed; it glowed a soft orangish-yellow light and blinked and made that electric buzzing noise like it was about to fizzle out. He threw a folder onto the bed and I gulped when I realized it had my name on it—my real name.

  “I know exactly who you are. You’re license says your name is Holden Gregory Hall, but before you started using that name, people knew you as Midas, Tail Gunner for the Devil’s Armada. Before that, you were born James Dylan Sheridan, people called you JD for short. You spent a handful of days in Juvie when you were sixteen for assault after your father pressed charges against you for fighting back, and then you spent a couple weeks there after you were caught shoplifting some CDs from Best Buy a few months later and violated your probation. You left home and were marked a runaway only to be picked up by the Devil’s Armada and recruited by their president, Dutch, when you were seventeen. You served them faithfully for ten years only to be murdered by a rival MC seven years ago. Your death was the catalyst that turned the club upside down. It turned them into outlaws and eventually led them to a life of crime. Everyone thinks you’re dead, but somehow you survived being murdered. I could tell you more, everything is in this folder.”

  “How in the fuck do you know all this?” There was no way this guy could know so much about me. I chose Holden for my alias because I named myself after Holden Caulfield in the Catcher in the Rye, my favorite book as a teen. Either this guy was insanely good at stalking or he was a fucking Fed.

  “I’m really, really good at my job. Finding people is my specialty. You’re a hard person to find, Holden.”

  “Then how did you find me?”

  “Six months ago, your mother had a mysterious phone call from an unknown number located in Texas. The phone call didn’t last long, but the man stated he was friends with JD and wanted to check up on her. Your mother found it odd that out of the blue seven years after her son’s death that someone would call, she reported it to a police officer. Due to your case being cold, they did nothing, but the report popped up in the system. I’m trained to find abnormalities like that, it’s like a gift or something. Part of my job is running names of former club members periodically, just to make sure they aren’t doing something fucked up. I saw that shit and it got me wondering. Could the mysterious Midas still be alive? I started digging and then I researched the phone number; it wasn’t long before I found you. A few facial recognitions later and voilà, JD Sheridan is alive and well in Texas.”

  I was dumbfounded. Who the fuck was this guy?

  “Are you a fed or something? Why would you be interested if I was alive? We don’t even know one another.”

  He didn’t move. He didn’t even flinch. If he was a cop or a fed, he had a damn good poker face.

  “A mutual friend had a suspicion that you were still alive and wanted me to keep an eye out. And surprise, surprise, you were fucking alive just like they thought.”

  “Who?”

  “Who is not important, but the what is very important, and what you need to do is save this club and Faith before it’s too late.”

  I plop down on the bed and start flipping through the pictures Cipher had in his folder. One of them is from when I took Faith to her senior prom. Man, I was grotesquely fat back then. My body mass took up almost the whole photo and I looked like I weighed eight-hundred pounds standing next to Faith’s petite body. I don’t know why she ever liked me, but she stood there holding my arm with the biggest smile on her face—like I was her everything. Her other hand was folded over mine protectively, holding me back from tearing apart the two guys from her school that were making fun of me on the other side of the photographer. My scowl and size ruined this photo.

  Faith could’ve picked anyone to take her to her prom, but she chose me. I still don’t know why she asked me. I was nineteen and had to get special permission to escort her to her prom. Most people avoided me like the plague, but Faith, she only showed me kindness from the moment we met. Our sparks were like shooting stars, taking off fast and floating through the sky in a streak of perfect light. That momentum is what led me to take her virginity that night. I’m not sure how I pulled that off, but I remember that night very vividly, how her face looked as she stared up at me with nothing but love in her eyes, fighting through the pain as I claimed her virginity as mine. She wasn’t the first woman I had ever slept with, but she would be my last—that’s one thing I knew for sure. I just didn’t know how she would react when she finally found out that I left her alone and never said goodbye. Man, the engagement ring I had for her has never felt as heavy in my pocket as it does right now.

  “What do you want from me?” I asked, barely moving my eyes from the picture.

  Cipher walked back to the chair in the corner of the room and sat down. “Simple. I want you to fix what you broke and save your girl before she ends up dead.”

  “Dead?”

  Cipher leaned forward and took me in carefully, “Faith has been fucking with the enemy . . . literally. Word is, she’s soon to be Diego’s Old Lady. She’s been going behind enemy lines and playing badass bitch for the last five years in the Diablo Saints, all behind Scythe and Dutch’s back.”

  I could feel the blood drain out of my body. Diego. Of all the people Faith could get tangled up with, it had to be mother fucking Diego. The most ruthless and blood-hungry MC leader in town.

  “Why in the hell would she do something crazy like that? How do they not know that she’s doing that?”

  Cipher smiled. “She’s very skilled at making herself scarce when she wants to.”

  I sucked in a shocked and exasperated breath. If I didn’t know what I did about my attacker, Diego would’ve been my first guess as to who would’ve been vile enough to put a hit out on key members of the Armada, but I knew better—Diego didn’t even know who the fuck I was, all he cared about was pussy, power, and territory.

  “Now you see why I emailed you.”

  I looked over at Cipher and studied him. I had no idea who the hell he was, but somehow, he had turned into the best ally I could have right now.

  “Because she’s fucking the wrong man?” It came out as a question, but I meant it as a statement.

  Cipher frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “A Saint didn’t try to assassinate me; it was someone from the Armada.”

  “You’re kidding me?”

  “I saw the cut with my own two eyes. It was someone from the club, and that’s part of the reason I’m back. I’m going to find out who tried to take me out and do to them what they couldn’t do to me.”

  Cipher quietly chewed on his lip. “This shit is worse than I thought. That means someone purposely tried to take you out in order to turn the club against the Saints.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After your death, the club erupted into chaos. I had friends who were part of the club that left because Dutch went crazy and ended up getting stripped of his patch. Scythe got patched in as president and the club chose Switchblade as his VP. The second that son of a bitch took a role in leading the Armada, he had his hooks into Scythe, getting him into some hairy shit. We went from peacekeepers to disrupters overnight. The cops were all over your murder case. First you were listed as a missing person. Then they found remnants of your DNA in a shallow grave outside of town. Your cut was found not too far from that grave site, along with your wallet. There were drag marks heading away from your grave, so they assumed someone moved your body. Switchblade and a few others convinced Scythe that it was the Saints who had a hand in everything. After that, we were arms dealing, pimping out teen prostitutes, and slinging dope on the streets. It
’s been a shit show.”

  “Why did you join then?”

  Cipher went back to chewing on his bottom lip. “My dad used to be Sgt. at Arms, before the Armada went to rat shit. When Scythe took over, he stepped down along with a few other club members, but before he left, my dad asked me to pledge the club to help them out. He said they needed an IT guy—they fucking wanted a hacker.”

  “So, your dad’s Tank?”

  Cipher nodded. “Not many people know my connection to him. I’d like to keep that between us if you don’t mind?”

  I nod. He doesn’t even have to ask. Tank had always been good to me. If Dutch wasn’t acting like my father, then Tank was right behind him filling those shoes. “Was it Tank who asked you to look into me?”

  Cipher grinned, “You’re pretty smart for a dead man. Your death never sat well with my dad. He said shit just didn’t make sense. You were a good guy, JD. You had mad respect from all the club members and when Scythe stepped up, you were next in line to be VP. My dad never wanted that position, he was dedicated to Dutch, and when Dutch’s mental health started going squirrelly, he knew it was time to hand in his cut and retire.”

  “I didn’t know Tank had a son.”

  “He didn’t talk about me much. My mom was a club whore who got knocked up one night after they fooled around. When she came sniffing around for money, he gave her a shit ton to disappear. When I got old enough to start asking questions, I found him using my amazing deduction skills, and the rest, they say, is history.”

  I got up off the bed and started pacing the room. “Does your dad know I’m alive?”

  “Nobody knows . . . yet. If you help me turn this club back into what it was before, nobody has to know who you are unless you want them to. Hell, you fooled Faith, and she’s had your dick in her.”

  I glared at him. Nobody needed to talk about Faith in that manner, not even him. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

  “Down, boy. Don’t worry, you’ve changed your appearance enough that nobody is going to recognize you underneath all that beard and those tattoos. Do me a favor, though. Don’t blow your cover just yet. We need you to do this right. If this is going to work, nobody can know who you are, not even Faith.”

  The thought of keeping my secret even longer had me even more agitated. I wanted to find my killer and be done with it. Now I have to deal with the Saints on top of it all. Nothing is easy anymore.

  “Well, what exactly do you want me to do?”

  Cipher grinned. “You already did that today by showing up and getting Scythe’s attention. Now you just need to get initiated back into the club. Which should be easy for you, you already know most of what we do.”

  I stopped pacing and turned to face him. “Wait, are you saying you want me to prospect again?”

  Cipher slapped me on the back and laughed. “No. Scythe wants you to prospect again. I’m just here to recruit you.”

  I groaned loudly, “As long as I don’t have to be shop bitch again, I guess I can handle a little grunt work.”

  “That’s the spirit. Scythe doesn’t know that I found you. In order for this to work, you’re gonna have to make him like you even more than you already have. You’ll need to be persistent. Come back to the bar again; keep coming back if you have to. I’ll do my best to make sure that no one fucks with you. I’m not sure what Scythe will do if you keep showing up, but I do know that he’s eyeing you for the club. Play dumb. Act like you don’t know shit about the club, lie if you have to. This will only work if they think you’ve never been patched in before.”

  I nodded reluctantly. I knew that this was probably the only way I’d ever get back into the club, but the thought of doing bitch work all over again left a sour taste in my mouth. If what Cipher was saying was true, then the club was filled with a bunch of pissant jackasses that I’m not going to like being around, but if this gets me any closer to finding my killer and getting Faith back, then I’m willing to do whatever it takes to do just that, even being shop bitch again.

  Chapter Seven

  Faith

  The worst part about leading a double life is escaping Diego’s world and reentering my own without getting caught. I usually try to scamper out early in the morning, before the sun has even decided to wake up, but for some reason I overslept. Diego was passed out next to me sawing logs. His snoring could put bears to shame. The weight of his heavy arm pinned me down, draped over my naked torso while he cupped my tits possessively. It took everything I had to move his arm without him waking up. I carefully grabbed my slutty clothing and put them back on. I hoped that the rest of his club had gone to bed, but when I opened the door, Marco was sitting in a chair with Angelique cuddled in his arms.

  The second I closed the door; Angelique was hoping up and in my face.

  “Did you think it would be that easy to get rid of me, bitch? Did you think any of those men would touch me knowing that I was Diego’s number two and Marco’s number one?”

  I stole a glance towards Marco, who’d hated me from the beginning, and rolled my eyes when I saw his gigantic grin.

  Angelique pushed my shoulder, knocking me back towards the door. “You don’t fucking scare me, Fe. You may be Diego’s favorite fuck, but when you’re not around, it’s me that he comes looking for. You’re getting nothing but my sloppy seconds, and one of these days he’s going to wise up to your games, Fe, and when he does, I’ll be here to claim your throne.”

  I had to admit, she was a bit intimidating without my Diego safety net, but if I didn’t assert my dominance, it wouldn’t be long before she walked all over me. My hand cocked back, and I smacked the shit out of her face, leaving a gigantic red handprint against her flesh.

  Marco immediately jumped up and got between us.

  “I don’t know who you think you are, Angelique, but as long as I’m here, you’re fucking nothing more than something to get his dick wet. If you think Diego gives a shit about you, you’re wrong. You’re the club slut. Every guy here has gotten a piece. Unlike you, only one man in this club has ever been in this pussy, that’s why I’m queen and you’re nothing but a pawn for the club to play with.”

  I could see the wheels turning in her head. I hit her exactly where it counted, and she knew it. Marco kept a possessive arm on Angelique and stared me down.

  “I know what you are,” he whispered. “I’ll bring your little plan to light, and when Diego finds out what kind of snake he’s brought into his bed, he’s going to chop your head off. I might not be able to touch you right now, but the second Diego gives me the go, I’m gonna tear you apart, inside and out.” He slid a predatory finger up the exposed skin of my thigh. I smacked it away just before it would’ve gone to a place that I didn’t want it to be.

  “See, I’m not the only one that sees through your scales, snake.” Angelique spat in my face; her saliva hitting me directly in the eye like a spitting cobra.

  Who exactly is the snake here?

  I wiped it quickly away and cocked my hand back to smack her again, but this time Marco stopped my fist and gave it a threatening squeeze. “Nobody hits my Old Lady, not even the queen.”

  Diego picked that exact moment to open the door. He looked at me, then to Marco, and finally his sleepy eyes fell on Angelique. “Do we have a problem here?”

  Marco dropped my fist and took a step back. “No.”

  Diego was in nothing but pajama pants, but it was obvious that he knew he couldn’t trust his second—second in command or second fuck. He grabbed me possessively around the waist and turned toward Marco. “Touch her again, and you’re dead,” he growled, as he guided me past Angelique and Marco and then down the steps into the empty club below.

  “You okay, Fe? Did they hurt you?”

  “I’m fine.” I tried to say it with confidence, but inside every nerve in my body was shaking in fear. Living in this world was proving to be even more dangerous the longer I stayed. If I didn’t get my proof soon, I may never make it out of this alive.


  “They won’t touch you,” he told me, trying to make me feel better. “They know better.”

  “Your protection only lasts as long as we’re together, Diego. If my brother ever finds out about us, we’re done. He won’t let us be together.”

  Diego put a protective hand on my shoulder. “I’m working on that, Fe. It won’t be long before you and I are together for good.”

  His words unnerved me. What exactly does he have planned? It couldn’t be good. Nothing Diego did was ever good.

  “What do you mean?”

  He put a finger up to my mouth and shushed me. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, Fe. You let me work out all the details. All you need to know is that when you belong to Diego, you will always belong to Diego. There isn’t anything that I’m going to let stand in my way of claiming what’s mine, and if that means making some deals with your brother, so be it.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. The Saints were the Armada’s mortal enemies. If Diego wanted to work out a deal with my brother that involved me, it would definitely turn my brother’s world upside down. If he ever found out I was fucking around with the president of the Diablo Saints, I don’t know what he would do.

  Diego walked me outside. “Where are you parked?”

  “About a block up. I’ll be fine walking from here as long as you keep your bitch and mutt leashed.”

  He laughed. “Always so hard, Fe. One of these days I’m going to soften that hard exterior and make you melt for me.”

  There was no way in hell that the man who killed the love of my life would ever make me melt. He could throw me every swoon-worthy word in his smooth-talking arsenal and it still wouldn’t matter. The only thing I see when I look at Diego’s face is Midas, and my thirst for revenge has never been stronger.

  “I love you, and I want you to be my official Old Lady,” he said quickly, moving a piece of my sweat-drenched hair out of my face. His words caught me off guard. They weren’t words he threw around easily. It was the first time he had ever said them to me, and I was left speechless. I’ve gone four years without having to say those words to him, and now I was going to be forced to say them back.