Next, they identified the club’s internal network and attempted to guess the password without success. When Devil began suggesting ways for her hack the server, Peb had cut them off. Abby then carefully went back, deleted the messages, and dumped the virtual version of the trash can, making retrieving the information more complicated. They were both idiots. The Blind Jacks were much more tech savvy than most. Still, any moron should know that most cell phone companies kept call and text histories.
Shutting off the tablet, Ryder went back to bed and pulled Tiffany’s back against his chest, spooning her, and forced his body to relax. It took longer for his mind to get on board though. Something was definitely off here, and he needed to figure out what it was before his brothers started ending up dead.
~ Tiffany ~
Drifting halfway between the dream world and reality, Tiffany felt a large, warm body snuggle up behind her. One huge arm tugged her back against a wall of muscle. It was the last bit of security she needed to finally let go of her weakening grasp on the waking world.
Her mind swirled with images of her life before that fateful day Ryder Staunton came into her life. She’d grown up in a very average, middle-class family. Her father, a slight bespectacled man, made his living working for a local library. He’d taught her to love reading, and that beauty came from inside. He’d married his childhood sweetheart, and they’d stayed happily married. Her mother was more like a best friend, and the woman’s words of wisdom came back to guide her time and time again. Never judge a book by its cover. Her mother’s favorite saying had served her well in life.
Tiffany found herself sitting outside her childhood home, stroking Rupert the Magnificent. Tiffany could almost feel the tiny, soft cat hairs sifting through her fingers as he gazed up at her.
A soft smattering of rain began falling, and she shifted restlessly in her sleep. She didn’t like dreaming of rain. It reminded her of the day she met Stuart Chamberlain the Third. Her car had broken down, and he’d stopped to lend a hand. He’d been so sweet, charming, and helpful. Insisting on giving her a ride home, he’d made arrangements for her vehicle to be towed. Little did she know, all that charm was part of a carefully crafted persona, designed specifically to cover the malignant narcissist hiding beneath.
In her dream world, the rain picked up. Rupert disappeared, leaving behind only a bundle of rags. Wrapping her arms around her stomach, she froze. Not daring to look at the bundle beside her, Tiffany knew what was swaddled inside. Instead, her blue eyes began carefully scanning the shadows for what she knew was near. Every movement notched up the queasy feeling churning in her gut.
Stuart’s face jumped forward out of the darkness, sneering derisively at her. “Run, run, run, little gingerbread girl. Run as fast as you can.”
Jumping back in the swing, she blinked, and he was gone again. Jerking her head from one side to the other, she tried to find him. “Leave me the hell alone. I’m not yours anymore.”
A menacing voice spat out the words to the ancient folktale, morphing them to fit their fight. His hollow, soulless voice seemed to be coming from every direction at once.
“You can run from your husband and hide out of spite. You can stray from my bed and race through the night. Beware, my little sweet gingerbread girl, Stuart will catch you and make you his again under the pale moonlight.”
Covering her ears with her hands, Tiffany tried to shut out the cruel taunting. Memories of him taking her floated through her head. She could feel his strong, sinewy body pinning her to the ground, his nasty breath on her face, and the pain of his rough thrusts into her dry body. She couldn’t do that again. She just couldn’t.
Rocking back and forth, she mumbled over and over, “I’ll run as fast as I can. You’ll never catch me. I’m the gingerbread girl.”
Huge hands landed on her shoulders. Jumping forward, Tiffany tried to jerk free. Strong arms slid around her body, pinning her arms to her sides.
A deep voice ground out words she barely understood. “Calm the fuck down, baby. It’s me, Ryder.”
Her eyes popped open, and she froze. Ryder had her down on the soft carpet, and several brothers were standing in the doorway gaping at their naked bodies. Tiffany realized her hair was stringing into her eyes, and she was sweating profusely. Feeling herself flush with embarrassment, she made an effort to obscure her body from their view.
Ryder turned her face to his, concern etched onto every square inch of his face. “Are you all right, sweetness?”
“I had a nightmare,” she croaked. Her throat was dry. She didn’t know how that could be since she just went to sleep. A few feet away, the windows were beginning to brighten, and a quick glance at the clock on his nightstand told her it was a little past five in the morning.
Standing, Ryder brought her up into his arms and strolled toward his small bathroom. She heard the door to his room shut a moment before he kicked the bathroom door closed. He sat her on the counter and began a shower without a work spoken between them.
Feeling all kinds of humiliated, she stammered, “Look, I’m really sorry about embarrassing you. I hope I didn’t hit you or anything.” Ryder turned to face her, and she saw what she’d done. Swallowing thickly, she shook her head. “God, I’m so sorry.” Rubbing her temple, she whispered, “I had a nightmare about Stuart.”
Leaning over, Ryder wrapped her in his arms. “Fuck Stuart Chamberlain the Third. If he ever shows his face around here, he won’t live long enough to regret it.”
Tightening her grip on his waist, Tiffany asked, “How did you know his name? I never said.”
Pulling back slightly, he gently lifted her chin with two fingers. “I knew your name. That’s all I needed to track him down. Don’t you worry about that kind of shit anymore.”
He’d checked up on her? Tracked her ex down and everything? But, of course, he did. What had she expected from a man like Ryder who had a firm grip on every aspect of his life? And now that she was a part of that life, it only made sense that that control would extend to hers too. Still, Tiffany didn’t know how to respond.
Seeing the angry red scratches on his face from her own hands made her feel like hell all over again. “I’m sorry I clawed your neck and face up.”
She didn’t know if the look he shot her was irritation with her or himself. “Fucking hell, give me a little credit. Your pretty fingernails ain’t gonna do real damage to a badass biker like me. Now, what’s all that shit about being a gingerbread girl?”
Scrubbing her hands over her face, Tiffany tried to order her thoughts. “I was married for close to five years. I tried to leave more times than I can count. The first time was Christmas Eve, two months after we were married,” she revealed, the ugly truth pouring out of her. “It didn’t take me long to realize what a horrible mistake I’d made.
“Stuart wanted a wife that looked good on his arm in public and one he could use as a punching bag at home. I ended up going back to stay at my parents’ house. Then Stuart started sending me expensive gifts, and then a card with a gingerbread girl on the front.”
Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I know it sounds childish, but he wrote a note on the inside taunting me. He said no matter how fast or far I run, he’ll track me down and drag me back. Each time I ran, the abuse escalated when he got me back.”
Ryder’s expression was murderous. “Not anymore. You’re with me now. I know just how to handle rich assholes like the Chamberlains.”
She chose to ignore that statement. “I don’t know what triggered the dream. I haven’t had one that bad in a long time.”
Ryder’s eyes got glassy with what could only be tears. “It was me being on top of you the way I was tonight. I wasn’t thinking about how you might react to…to… It was a poor decision on my part.”
Jerking her face back out of his hand, she shook her head. “No, we’re not doing this. Last night was fantastic. We’re not going to change up the way we have sex because of that bastard. I don’t think it was th
at anyway. I think it was seeing the basement.”
“The bastard kept you in his basement?”
“Yeah, every time I ran, he played this little game with me,” she said, doing her level best to keep the darkness of her past from sucking her into its powerful grasp. “First, he’d chain me up on his back porch. If I was good, he’d lock me in the shed. Hell, that was better simply because I was out of the elements.” She remembered well those cold, wet nights spent shaking on the unforgiving, splintering old wood, keeping an ear out for any local fauna that might try to sneak up on her in the night. “I had to earn his trust back for the privilege of sleeping on the cold cement floor in the basement.”
“I can guess what you had to do to earn his trust,” he said hatefully.
Wrapping her arms around her stomach, Tiffany stared at the floor. “That’s the thing—you probably can’t guess. He was into weird loyalty tests where the other person had to really degrade themselves to prove they were worthy of being in his good graces.”
“Fucker. I’ll circle back around to him the very first chance I get.”
“Babe, I hate to ask this, but I really need a favor,” Tiffany said, looking up into his eyes.
Kissing her on the top of her head, Ryder murmured, “Anything, you name it.”
“If he ever gets me, and you can’t stop him, put a bullet in my head,” she rasped, emotion clogging her throat. “I can’t do the Stuart thing again. I just can’t. It would be a mercy.”
Ryder’s features hardened and a fierce, determined light entered his eyes. “One way or another, I’ll make sure he never touches you again.”
Lifting her off the counter, her rough-and-tumble biker carried her into the shower and began gently washing her hair and body under the warm cascade of water. She soaped her hands and did the same for him.
Normally, silence hanging in the air was awkward and uncomfortable for Tiffany. This morning, neither of them needed words to know they were on the same page.
~ Ryder ~
Ryder took Tiffany down to the kitchen, and they came to a sliding halt just inside the doorway. The prospects were busy cooking, and the sight at the table about floored him. Darkness was sat staring at Abigail Fucking Andrews, who was apparently all thumbs when it came to taking care of her own child. Her movements were awkward, forced, and she seemed unsure of how to handle the little one. The baby was screaming her little head off, and Abby kept trying to put a bottle in her mouth, but the kid wasn’t having it. And there Abby was, unlike any mother he’d ever seen, getting frustrated and embarrassed.
Like a typical nurse, Tiffany walked over and began looking the child over. She gently squeezed her stomach, and a little burp gurgled up. Grabbing the bottle, she shot Abby a strange look and popped it into the microwave for a few seconds. Taking it out, she shook it and squirted a bit onto the inside of her wrist. This time, when Abby tried to feed her, the little one settled down and nursed greedily.
Darkness motioned for Ryder to sit beside him. “Report?”
“Well, sir, based on what I just saw and the information provided by the caregivers, I believe the child has mostly been left at a boarding school.”
“Boarding schools are for school-aged kids, not little babies,” his president pointed out.
“This one was different,” Ryder informed him. “It was a private affair and clearly said Mockingbird Lane Early Education and Boarding on the front door.”
Glancing at one of the men standing nearby, Darkness sighed. “Ace, can you please…”
“I’m all over it, boss. Be right back.”
Darkness turned back to him. “Any idea who she was calling last night when she thought I was asleep?”
Abby’s head snapped up, wearing the same look of shock Ryder felt, and she opened her mouth, probably intending to tell a bunch of lies, but she caught the look on their faces and buttoned it up.
Openly glaring at the woman in question, Ryder told him, “She texted with Devil, and they tried to hack our wireless network. She calls him her Honey Bear.”
Staring at his little daughter, Darkness muttered, “Well, this is turning out to be a total shitstorm. What are your recommendations?”
Waiting for the prospects to finish putting their food down, Ryder sighed. “First of all, I think you need someone with actual experience taking care of babies. This trying to feed your little one cold milk is all kinds of crazy. I can call my little sister. She’s good with kids and babysits for actual babies, as well as older kids. She’s going to know more than most of us.”
Shoveling a bite of eggs into his mouth, Darkness nodded. “Do it.”
Pulling out his cell phone, Ryder made quick work of texting his father asking if it was okay for Rose to take care of the baby and if he’d talk to her about it. “Done.”
Barking a gruff command to Abby, Darkness continued to devour his food like a starving man. “Let Tiffany hold the baby while you eat.”
Without thought or question, Abby handed over her little one and dug into her food. Tiffany’s eyes lifted to Ryder’s, and he jerked his chin. No one really knew what to make of the situation.
Darkness leaned forward to speak directly to Abby. “I’m going to give you one chance to tell me what the hell Devil wants from me. I’ll have the boys take you out back if you lie to me.”
At the blatant threat, she stopped eating mid-bite and stared at him. “You ain’t my ex on paper. You know that, right?”
“You want a divorce. Hell’s bells, girl, you could have mailed me that shit.”
“Devil wants cold, hard cash. We took out an insurance policy on you for a quarter of a million. He wants you dead, or you can just pay him the same amount in cash.”
“Why in the fuck would I do something like that, when I could just kill you and be done with it?” Darkness said with a hell of a lot calmer than Ryder was feeling, but he knew well the kind of storm that was likely brewing beneath the surface of his president’s carefully collected demeanor.
“Devil is the secondary beneficiary,” Abby said with a self-assured air that Ryder would love to knock right out of her. “If anything happens to me, he’ll still get the payout if anything happens to you. He says you’d always be looking over your shoulder, and he can get to you when you least expect it. Maybe when you’re riding down the highway, when you’re shopping, or just walking down the street. For that kind of money, one of his brothers would kill you, claim it was self-defense, and risk doing a little time.”
“Why didn’t he just take out a policy on you?”
“We aren’t related, and I’m married to you. Insurance companies aren’t stupid.”
And this kind of thing was exactly the reason men like Ryder and his brothers hesitated when it came to that little piece of legal paperwork. It was easy to get into and hard as hell to get out of.
“This whole scheme is a little complex for the likes of you and Devil to concoct,” Darkness observed.
“His old man got out of prison and took the gavel back. Ratchet has been looking to make some quick cash.”
“Well, darlin’,” Darkness drawled, “I’m still not understanding what in God’s name makes the man think I’ll just give you a quarter of a million dollars for no good reason.”
“You will if you want me to sign over sole custody of your daughter.”
“I can just wait for the paternity test and file for custody.”
“Yeah, but I could tie things up in court for a long time. Also, she’s mine in the meanwhile, and if I go back empty-handed… Well, let’s just say Devil and his dad can get real spiteful.”
A muscle under Darkness’ left eye twitched. “Did you have sex with me just to make a baby?”
Putting down her fork, Abby looked right at him. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to hear the answers to, babe.”
“You ever call me babe again,” Darkness gritted out, “and I’ll personally break your fucking jaw.”
Jerking back slightly, Ab
by closed her eyes. “I never wanted any of this.”
“Don’t pretend to be the victim now. You had a choice, and you made it.” Turning to Hickory, Darkness jerked his chin. “Call in our attorney. I want him to begin drafting divorce and custody papers immediately.”
Hickory nodded. “You got it.”
Ace walked back in, edging his way past Hickory in the doorway. “Sorry, boss, but the owner of that boarding school said your little one got dropped off there when she was a month old, and Abby’s made two short visits in the last three months.”
Shooting Abby a curious look, he asked, “Who took care of her for the first month?”
Without batting an eye, she replied, “The girls at Devil’s clubhouse passed her around. He got tired of hearing her crying all the time.”
What kind of mother… Ryder grit his teeth to stop from saying something he shouldn’t…yet.
Darkness was seething. When he spoke, the words were laced with loathing. “Why in the fuck was my child crying all the time?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know? Babies cry. It’s just what they do,” Abby said with a callous shrug of her knobby shoulders.
Shooting a glance at the baby being quietly burped on Tiffany’s shoulder, Darkness spoke woodenly. “You never muled drugs or anything like that, did you?”
“Let’s just say Devil’s a little too possessive to put me in harm’s way. He went along with my baby idea. Said I was finally using my brain and earning my keep. Ratchet came up with the insurance idea and figured out how to monetize the little one,” she said with a smirk. “It’s a shame, too, ‘cause I was just starting to get attached to her.”
Jerking his chin to Ryder, Darkness gestured toward the door. “Get her downstairs. Double lock the damn door and put a guard inside and outside of it.”
Fighting Dirty (Blind Jacks MC Book 2) Page 9