by Amy Cecil
“Trust Hawk. He has been around the block a few times and knows what he’s doing. His first priority is his loyalty to Ice. He won’t steer you wrong.”
“Yeah, when you put it like that it does make it a little easier to accept.” He is right. If Ice didn’t trust Hawk implicitly, or even if he couldn’t count on him to do the right thing in any situation, then the whole club would crumble. When you are dealing with anything that involves more than one person, like an MC or a club, the foundation of that club is its leaders. If you can’t trust the leaders, then you have nothing.
“So, Honey girl, whatcha cooking me and Dbag for dinner?” Spike asks.
She laughs. “Who says I am cooking you boys anything?”
“Awww, come on, Honey. We’ve missed your cooking since the clubhouse blew.” He then adds, “Besides, we’re your protection. You gotta keep us nourished, right?” He sounds just like a little boy who’s asking his mom for one more cookie.
As I expected, Honey caves. Although I assume that she was planning on cooking for them all along and was just teasing him.
She says, “I think I am going to make some chili. Does that sound good?”
“Oh, hell yeah!” Spike cheers.
“Fucking A! That sounds awesome, Honey. Can we help?” Dbag adds. These boys may be big, tough bikers, but offer them some good home cooking and they turn to mush.
“Naw, Emma and I got this. You boys go hang out in there or shoot some pool or just do whatever it is you boys do.” Honey says as she shoos them off. She’s so good at handling everyone; I wonder if I’ll ever get to that point.
We finish dinner and Honey and I clean up the kitchen while the boys finish their game. When all is said and done, the boys check the house and grounds, then double-check that all the doors and windows are locked. When the house is secure, we all turn in for the night. Spike takes the room that Rebel slept in while he was here last week and Dbag sleeps on the couch.
I offered him one of the other guest rooms, but he was insistent that it would be better if he were out in the living space in case he was needed. I assume that meant in case someone tried to break into the house in the middle of the night, but I’m not going to ask him to elaborate on that. Sometimes, it’s definitely better to not know everything.
I get to the top of the steps and walk into my room. I flick on the switch of my bedroom and what I see laying on the bed leaves me speechless. Words can’t even emerge from my mouth as shock overwhelms me. As I stare at the single-stem rose and note laying on my bed, all I can do is make a sound that isn’t human, but a terror-filled wail of horror that chills me to the bone. Whoever left the note this morning has been in the house!
Chapter 11
Caden
“I’m Patrick, Balefire’s older brother.” Patrick is tall and slender, definitely unlike the build that Rebel has, and I really can’t see much of a resemblance. Patrick looks to be about thirty. He has red hair, freckles, and deep green eyes. I really can’t picture him with an AK-47 slung over his shoulder and I wonder what role he plays in the organization. He looks more like brains than muscle.
“I’m Damon, Patrick’s older brother.” Now this guy could be Rebel’s twin. He is also tall but has a much bigger build than Patrick. I’m guessing that he’s about my age. He has Rebel’s blond hair and light green eyes. I can definitely picture Damon with an AK-47 or two slung over his shoulder. He’s definitely muscle, but I’m not sure if he’s got any brains.
“I’m Ice,” I say. It’s a bit overwhelming to meet your family members for the first time at my age. It’s also surreal. I’ve had all this family that I knew nothing about until recently. I think back to when my mom was killed and how lost and alone I felt. All I had was Ari, who was ten at the time and she needed me to be strong. Things would’ve been so much easier if I had known about my family in Ireland or Ace. But then again, if I had, I may not have ended up in the MC.
The more I think about it, the more I realize that everything has happened as it should. My life took the path it was supposed to take. It brought me here to Belfast to meet my two cousins for the first time.
After all the introductions are made and the small talk put aside, it’s time to get down to the matter at hand. Patrick says, “Ice, we really appreciate you and your crew coming to help us out.”
“We’re family, right? And even before I knew Rebel and I were related, he was my brother. We take that shit seriously in the club. We always protect our own.”
I don’t really know anything about Patrick and Damon, but it seems to me that they’re worried, frazzled, and a bit scared. It is odd to me that men that have spent their lives dealing with violence are handling this so poorly. Something doesn’t add up. I say, “Before we get into all the details, I have a couple of questions. First, why did you wait two weeks before you contacted Rebel about your parents’ disappearance? And two: I assume you have many contacts within your organization. Why my club? Why me?”
“We think their abduction came from the inside,” Damon says nervously.
His words fall to the floor like a dead weight. A rat! At least, that’s what we call it. I’m not sure what it is called in their world, but a rat is a rat no matter what world you place it in.
He continues, “We’re keeping their disappearance on the hush-hush in the hopes that the person responsible will slip up. But after about two weeks, we started getting desperate. That’s when we got Rebel involved. We knew he was part of your MC. We also knew that the Knights are huge, with Chapters all over the US and in Europe. You and your club were the outsiders we needed to trust.”
“Nothing like laying all the pressure on my club, Damon,” I reply.
“That’s unfair. If you knew there was someone in your club that turned against you, you can’t tell me that you wouldn’t find the one thing or person that you could trust to fish them out. Right?”
He had a point. “Well, if you put it that way …” I pause for a minute and then continue, “So, why don’t you start from the beginning and tell us everything that’s happened leading up to and after their disappearance?”
“Although things have been building over the last several years, threats against my mam and da started to really heat up this past January after we attempted to kill a police officer in north Belfast. We hit him several times at a petrol station on Crumlin Road, Ardoyne. Unfortunately for us, he lived.”
“We?” I ask.
“My da and me. We fired about ten shots and the son of a bitch still survived,” Damon says. “Over the course of the next several months, we made several more attempts to kill PSNI.”
I interrupted, asking, “PSNI?”
“Police Service of Northern Ireland.”
“And they are British?” I ask.
“Yes. They are more like a militant group than a police force like you may be used to in the States,” he adds.
“Ok, go on.”
“In February we planted a bomb near a PSNI home, but it didn't result in any injuries. In March one of our roadside bombs exploded as an armored PSNI truck passed in Strabane. Again, no injuries, but our presence was building.”
He takes a breath and then continues, “In April, we made our first big mistake. This is when we started to believe we had someone on the inside turn. Our target was another PSNI officer, but something went amiss and the bomb was left outside the gates of a school.”
“So you think that your rat purposely left that bomb at the school?” I ask.
“Two of our guys were supposed to plant that bomb at the home of the PSNI officer. When they were walking to the house, one of the guys claimed that they were being followed. Because of this, the other guy panicked. Apparently they dropped the bomb and left it. Shit really hit the fan after that.”
“I would think so. I’ll help you any way I can, but if you all are involved in the hurting or killing of children, we’re out. I can’t condone that.”
“That bomb was never intended for any
children or that school. It was a mistake. Thankfully for the kids, it was found before it ever detonated.”
“So, if one of the two guys who were supposed to drop that bomb was your suspected rat, why didn’t you deal with him then?”
“We did. He’s gone, but before he was executed for his treasonous acts against our cause, he claimed that there were more agents within our organization. He made it perfectly clear that he was not the only one involved.”
“Fuck! This is so fucked up. How do you guys live like this every day?”
“It’s our way of life. When it’s all you know, everything else seems abnormal. That’s why Balefire was sent away. We didn’t want our little brother to grow up in all this shit.”
“Damn, and I thought being a biker and living in the biker world was rough. MC life is a cakewalk compared to what you all endure on a daily basis.” I pause and then add, “Anything else?”
“Like I said, after the mistake at the school, things really began to heat up. Mam and Da got more involved in the actual attacks against the PSNI, and the attacks against us increased as well. A little over two weeks ago, an anonymous tip came in about possible traitors. We sent five agents to Dublin to fish out the alleged traitors. Mam and Da were two of the five. None of the five came back. The other three agents were found dead near the mark’s home.”
“And nobody has seen or heard from them since?”
“No. I have every man available to me digging into their whereabouts and we’ve got nothing,” Patrick says.
“I think we need to get some intel of our own,” Rebel says. “As much as I trust that these guys know what they were doing, having a fresh approach to things could make all the difference.”
“Balefire, I assure you we have exhausted every avenue. You will not find out anything that we don’t already know. Besides, you have no idea how to handle these people,” Damon says.
I say angrily, “If you think that Rebel can’t handle this, then why did you ask him to come here?”
“Because we want you and your club. He was our in to the club,” he states matter-of-factly.
Trying to let my anger subside, I stand up and walk over to my two cousins. I can tell that I intimidate them, which I find odd, especially for Damon. He’s nervous about something, but I can’t pinpoint what. I’m bigger than him, but not by much. Then again, I do have an advantage: I have a reputation that I assume has made it all the way across the pond. Why else would he want us here?
“Let me make something perfectly clear. As I said before, Rebel is my brother. He and I met the night that I avenged my father’s death and he has been a trusted and loyal member of my club since. He is my sergeant at arms and I trust him with my life. I also trust his judgment. If you want the help of my club, you remove that little brother barrier that you both seem to have and you replace it with the thought that he just might be your savior. ‘Cause without him, you don’t have my club or me. You follow?”
They don’t say a word as they look from Rebel to me. Then in unison, they nod in agreement. “Good. Now that we have that minor technicality out of the way, Rebel, why don’t you share your thoughts with your brothers?”
“I’ve been reading about everything that has happened up until their disappearance. I believe they are both still alive and I believe they are being held in Maghaberry.”
“Maghaberry?” Damon questions.
“Yeah, Maghaberry,” Rebel replies. Then he adds, “Do we still have men within the prison who are supporters of the cause?”
Damon nods. “Yeah, we do.”
“Have you reached out to them lately?”
“Nope. Like I said earlier, we have been unsure as to who we can trust within the organization. We are keeping everything tight-lipped until we can extract the traitors,” Damon replies.
Rebel looks over at me and says, “Ice, I think we need to do some extracting of our own. Don’t ya think?”
“We sure as hell do, Reb. Doc, Ryder, you in?” I ask my brothers. They’ve been quietly listening to all that has passed between the cousins and us. They nod in agreement, as I know they would.
“What are you going to do?” Damon asks.
“We’re gonna get the information we need to get this shit handled.” Just then the door opens and a particularly attractive red-headed woman walks into the house. She’s carrying a couple of bags, which appear to be groceries. Damon immediately gets up to help her. He takes the bags and then kisses her quite passionately—a little too passionately for my taste in a room full of people. She wraps her arms around him and clings to him as if her life depends on it.
Eventually the public display of affection between the Damon and the woman is over. While still wrapped in Damon’s arms, she looks over his shoulder and says, “Hello, Balefire.”
“Ciara,” he replies.
Chapter 12
Emma
Before I know it, Spike and Dbag are at my side, Honey following behind them. “What the hell, Emma? What’s happened?” Spike asks.
“Whoever left the note this morning has been in the house. Look.” I point to the rose and the note on the bed. I haven’t moved to open the note; I just can’t bring myself to get any closer to it. The fact that he’s been in the house has me so rattled I can’t think straight.
Spike walks over to the note while putting his riding gloves on. With his gloved hand, he picks up the note and begins to read.
Your biker friends can’t protect you.
Your biker boyfriend will go down with you.
When he finishes reading the note he pulls out his cell phone and dials. He holds the phone to his ear and a few seconds later begins to speak. “Hawk, hey. We’ve got a problem. Emma got another note.”
He’s listening to Hawk on the other end and then reads the note to Hawk. He listens some more and then says, “Ok, see you soon.” He disconnects the line and looks over at me. “He’s on his way.”
Suddenly, fear is no longer consuming me. I’m not afraid anymore; I’m pissed. I push through Spike and run past Honey down the stairs. When I get downstairs I grab the first thing I see, which is a beer bottle left on the pool table, and throw it as hard as I can. It shatters as it hits the kitchen table and the little bit of beer that was still in the bottle splatters all over the floor.
I’m not a victim! I scream inside my head. I’m so sick and tired of all this crap targeting Caden and me! I’m done! I will no longer allow these assholes that insist on tormenting me to do it anymore! I find an empty wine glass on the kitchen counter next to the sink and proceed to throw that as well. I turn back toward the pool table and spot another beer bottle. I storm over there, but just as I pick it up to throw, Spike grabs my arm to stop me.
“Whoa there, darl’n. I think you have made your point.”
“Let me throw it. It makes me feel better!” I yell.
“I know. I know it does. But you’re making a mess and frankly, I don’t think you or anyone else wants to clean it up,” Spike says. He then adds, “I’m glad you’re angry and I am glad that you’re reacting to this as you are. But let’s refocus that energy into finding this asshole and ending him once and for all.” He takes the beer bottle out of my hand and takes it over to the kitchen counter.
He walks back over to me and says, “Are you feeling better now?” Honey and Dbag are staring at me in disbelief. I’ve always been the quiet little mouse who just did what she was told, the timid girl whom everyone had to protect. Well, no more!
“I’m not a victim!” I state. My days of being the good little girl are over. I won’t allow another outsider to wreak havoc on my life. I have my child to think of. Above all else, my job is to protect him. I place my hands on my belly as if to reassure her that I am here and that I won’t allow anything to hurt her.
Honey walks over to me and gives me a hug. “Emma, we know that you’re not a victim. Hawk will get this guy, I just know it.”
I think, She doesn’t get it. I’m done having th
e club take care of me. I don’t want Hawk to get this guy. I want to get him! I want to make him stop terrorizing me. But I don’t say anything in front of Spike and Dbag, I decide to just let it go and let her think that she’s consoled me.
“She’s right, Emma. We’ll get him,” Dbag adds.
A few minutes later there’s a knock at the door. Spike goes over to the door, looks out the side window, and then opens the door. Hawk hurriedly walks in and comes straight over to me. “Are you ok?”
“I’m fine,” I reply. “Thanks for coming over this late.”
“It’s not a problem at all. Ice left your care in my hands and I won’t let my brother down. So, what can you tell me about this last note?”
“Not much, really. I had gone up to bed and as soon as I walked into the bedroom and flicked on the light I saw the rose laying on my pillow and the piece of paper next to it. I didn’t even touch it; I just reacted with a scream.”
“A blood-curdling scream,” Honey adds.
I look over at her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Then I turn back toward Hawk and say, “When I screamed, everyone showed up in my room. Spike went over and picked up the note and read it. I don’t have anything else.” I realize that I’m not giving Hawk much to go on, but I don’t have much. I’ve given him what I know.
“Spike, first thing in the morning, you get these fucking locks changed.” He turns back to me and says, “Emma, what can you tell me about Mark Grayson that I don’t already know?”
We both suspect that someone close to Mark is involved with this, so it only makes sense to me that he would ask about Mark. “Hell, I don’t know, Hawk. I really thought I knew the man, but over the course of the last several weeks I realize that I never really knew him at all.”
“Does he have any other family that you can think of?”
I think about his question to see if anyone comes to mind. I say, “He had an aunt in New York that he spoke of once or twice, but not regularly and not enough for me to ask about her.”