by Addison Jane
Arthur nodded, his fingers picking at the stitching on the arm of his chair. “He’s been involved with his fair share of… clients… such as yourselves. Not very smart with his money, though. It’s also got him in trouble before.”
“Technically, I don’t give a fuck what he does with his money,” I snorted, shaking my head. I was actually more partial to a cop who loved to make a little extra cash but tended to fuck with it too much. That made people desperate, it made people crazy, and usually a little more bendable.
“Arthur!” a voice called out, and we all got to our feet, just as Jason Calder walked into the extensive living room. His face instantly changed. The smile dropping from his face, and his eyes narrowing as they moved from one club member to another before finally landing on Arthur. “The fuck is going on?”
“This is the Royal Bastards MC. They wanted to talk to you,” Arthur explained before shooting back the last few mouthfuls of whiskey. His nose curled up, and he shook from the sharp taste of the alcohol. “They wanted to talk to you about making a deal.”
“A deal,” Jason repeated, just before he began to laugh, leaning his shoulder against the wall and raising his brows.
The guy was reasonably young, early forties. Probably had Sage at around twenty or twenty-one. I couldn’t imagine she was planned.
“Jason, I suggest you take it,” Arthur suggested sternly.
It was apparent the older man knew Jason pretty well, even though when we spoke to him last week, he’d simply played him off as an old friend.
“We need a window. Less than three minutes,” Hatch started, ignoring the ignorance of this fuckhead and his casualness. Either the stupid fucking idiot didn’t realize who the fuck he was dealing with, or he really was that goddamn arrogant he thought it didn’t matter. “You give the orders to move your boats. Ours glides through. If they happen to pick it up, you tell them it’s a police boat they’ve picked up on their radar. No one is any the wiser.”
It was simple.
We’d been doing it for fucking years without a single problem, except for having to pay old Arthur more profits than I would fucking like.
“That’s an interesting plan.” Jason’s taunting tone had my hands curling into fists.
The bastard was just as I fucking expected him to be—cocky, arrogant, your usual drug- dealing policeman. Thought he was invincible.
“I’ve already considered the opportunities I have here,” he continued as he walked around behind Arthur’s chair and strumming his fingers on the top. “You’re not the only people interested in using the water.”
Hatch started to laugh, the deep baritone shaking the room. “You have any idea who you’re fucking with? Seriously, because I’m beginning to think that maybe you need to know.” Hatch pulled his gun, the heavy piece directed at Jason’s head, forcing him to freeze, and the smug look instantly fell from his fucking face. “You’re going to keep your mouth shut for a second. You speak. I fire.”
Jason clenched his jaw shut and pursed his lips.
Then hatch continued. “Hype, phone Nycto.”
I couldn’t help but smirk as I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialed my brother’s number. “Yeah.”
“Put her on the phone,” I told him, pulling it from my ear and switching it to speaker as I listened to Nycto stomp down the hall and swing the bedroom door open.
“It’s for you.”
There was a slight rustle before I heard her sweet fucking voice. “Hello.”
“I’ll be back in a few hours,” I told her as I watched Jason’s face, the way his brows pulled in for a second, focusing on her voice before it suddenly fucking clicked. “You by yourself?”
There was a pause.
Her soft breathing on the end of the line. “Yeah. Why?”
“When I get back, I want you naked, in fucking bed, waiting for me.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, and Jason jerked forward as if he was coming for me. Hatch moved in, pressing his gun against the fucker’s chest and warning him with a whisper to keep his goddamn mouth shut.
I didn’t know if she’d play along, but it didn’t really matter. This was more just to force the point home that I fucking had her, and he needed to pull his fucking head out of his ass if he wanted her back.
You could practically hear her thinking, fighting with herself because she wanted it so fucking bad, but she also hated herself for it.
Because I was an asshole, a fucking bastard.
I stole her.
I’d kidnapped her.
She wasn’t supposed to fucking want me.
“Okay,” she murmured, a few long seconds later.
“Sage!” Jason roared, and I heard her gasp before I pressed my finger to the screen to end the call. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I think I’m the guy who owns your fucking daughter.” I laughed, tucking my phone back in my pocket. “Her pussy is fucking sweet. I haven’t shared it around just yet, but my brothers are just itching for a turn.”
He was fuming, his face fucking red with fury, which only made my smile grow bigger.
“You wanna play now?” Hatch questioned, lowering his gun. “You give us our fucking window. Hype gives you back your little girl in one piece and doesn’t make her bedroom door a revolving one.”
He snapped his teeth together, wiggling his jaw back and forth. “What the hell makes you think I won’t call my entire damn force right now, and have them pick you up the second you ride out of here?” Jason threw back as he stomped back and forth, his eyes occasionally flicking to Arthur, who continued to sit tight and shut his fucking trap like he’d been told. “Dealing, blackmail, kidnapping.”
He didn’t know us.
He didn’t know what the fuck he was dealing with here.
We weren’t some kids looking to make some cash, or some street gang who simply distributed the drugs and made a couple dollars. We were talking about fucking millions over a year. Our plans, which are very particular and very precise, have been fucking perfected. Not just that, but this bastard has no idea the shit we would do to protect that.
Hatch started to chuckle, walking toward the fucker. “And what the hell makes you think I won’t call someone right now and have them kill her? Or better yet, there’s a boat leaving in a few days I could put her on.” Hatch scratched at his chin. “You know, that might make me my money back.”
He wasn’t joking.
If he felt it was best for the club, I would have a hell of a fight on my hands right now. That was the way a leader had to be. Cold-hearted to protect the people he fucking needed to.
“What the fuck makes you think I’m not willing to be just as much as a fucking asshole as you are, except, I have a lot fucking less to lose… Chief.” Hatch got right up in his face. Just a foot or two between them.
“Jason,” Arthur snapped, shaking his head. “Just listen. Fight for Sage for God’s sake.”
“You want a window,” he snapped, stepping back from Hatch and his huge, imposing form. He screwed up his nose, his eyes moving rapidly as he processed his thoughts. I knew one thing right then, the bastard didn’t give as much of a shit about her as we thought he did, which could be a problem.
“I’ll give you one window. You give me back my daughter. Then you walk away.”
That was his attitude. The bargain was casual like he was offering a fucking goat for his daughter’s hand in marriage. And I instantly knew him giving in was less about getting his child back safe and more about him not wanting people to know my dick had been in her.
It made me furious, but I squashed that shit down because this fucker wasn’t getting her back.
Hatch looked over his shoulder at me. “We done here?”
So, we were going to let him feel like he won. Let him puff his fucking chest out and beat it like a damn drum. We’d talked about trying to negotiate future shipments, but at this stage, the fact that neither Hatch nor I had mentioned it, meant we were both on
the same page. We weren’t doing anything else to work with this slimy fucking bastard.
The sooner we got rid of him, the better.
But first, I needed him to make those orders, and get things leveled out again in the business and with our suppliers.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
I needed to get the hell away from this asshole.
Fucking dad of the year.
Jason made me want to pull my gun out and just end it right there. A shitty human he’d been for a long time, and he didn’t deserve something as fucking beautiful as Sage. Didn’t fucking deserve her. And by the end of this, I was going to make sure he fucking knew that fact.
“Guess we will be in touch, Officer Calder,” I told him with a snappy salute. “We’ll let you know the details of the window. Then, when it’s done, we’ll hand back your beautiful pride and joy.”
I made it all the way out the back door to where our rides were parked before I said it. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“Don’t know if Sage is gonna approve of that.”
I wasn’t going to let this fucking asshole’s poison touch her.
“Don’t know if I fucking care.”
SAGE
My fingers traced the windowsill as I walked the room.
The window’s locked.
The bathroom window’s locked.
This place was a prison. The décor nice, new, clean, but there was no way to get out.
And what would I do if I did happen to escape?
Where would I go?
More importantly, did I want to?
I tugged the wardrobe open It was full of clothes, different sizes and styles, it made me scrunch up my nose. Who did they keep here? Did they constantly have captives? Was Nycto serious when he was talking about selling me and getting a good price?
My stomach churned, my head beginning to throb as I pushed through some of the clothing, curiosity getting the better of me. I just couldn’t sit there, dwelling and trying to focus on nothing. I knew that was when I’d lose it, freak the hell out, and then these guys would have a whole new problem to deal with.
Shorts.
Shirt.
Jacket.
Ew.
I pushed past each piece until I reached the end, then I worked my way back again, anything to keep me from losing my mind. When I reached the other end, I paused, something at the top of the wardrobe right in the corner caught my eye.
A manhole.
The little square hole where you could get up into the ceiling.
Did it lead outside?
A soft knock at the door had me rushing to shuffle the clothes back where they belonged, and I quickly pushed the wardrobe doors shut before leaping back onto the bed and trying to act like I’d been there the whole time. “Come in.”
The door creaked open, and a young guy stuck his head in through the gap. He must only be a teen. Eighteen maybe.
His ashy blond hair a little scruffy with small patches of dark facial hair letting me know he hadn’t quite got there yet. “Food?” he questioned with a smile before stepping into the room completely and holding up a tray. “It’s um… roast, vegetables, potatoes, and all that crap.”
My stomach growled, bringing a smile to both our faces. “Thanks, sounds good,” I answered, nodding to the end of the bed. “Can you just put it there?”
“Sure,” he answered, moving the tray and placing it right on the end of the bed. I shuffled a little closer when he stepped back, pressing the door closed with his back. “I just wanted to say… thanks… for saving Sketch.”
I stabbed a roast potato with my fork, pausing for a second before bringing it to my mouth. “You know Sketch?”
The kid nodded. “My name’s Dash. Sketch and I spent a few years in the same group home. He’s a little older, but he’s the reason I found the club recently. And my place here.”
Popping the potato into my mouth, I chewed for a few seconds, just thinking, considering my words. “What’s the club for you?” I couldn’t help but be curious. I knew I’d convinced myself they were criminals, and begun to fester this resentment for the club, but also mostly for Hype.
And mostly for the way he had this ability to own my body.
Like it wasn’t even mine.
Like it belonged to him.
“The club is home,” Dash answered, even though he was looking up thoughtfully. “I’m just prospecting now, but soon I’ll get my patch and my ride, and I’ll be a part of that something bigger.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Dash’s optimism was addictive. “That’s what I feel like about working at the hospital. It’s a little crazy and a little overwhelming at times, but you’re a small part in a bigger picture.”
Maybe there was something I was missing here. I wanted to condemn these people, Hype especially, but there were kids like Dash finding family in this place.
They were supporting him.
And when he pulled out his schoolbooks—workbooks from the mechanic’s course the club was paying for him to attend—I swear something shifted.
Dash and I talked for hours.
He was a sweet kid, telling me about where he grew up, how he spent a few years on the streets in Los Angeles before moving down here to Florida after Sketch joined the club in Miami. Dash soothed my mind, eased that sharpness I’d felt in my chest after speaking to Hype earlier, and also without my knowledge, my dad.
He was angry.
I heard it in his tone.
Anything I did to make Dad look bad, I paid for in lectures and silent treatment.
He did his best to step up when Mom died, but I think it killed a part of him I knew I was never going to get back. The part where he was able to show actual love.
Listening to Dash talk about not having anyone was actually a stark reminder of the fact that I grew up with no one around me either. And even though I had a house, went to school, and didn’t have to live on the streets, was it really that different?
A low rumble of motorcycles had me sitting a little taller and Dash gathering his things and climbing off the floor where we’d been reading and going over his schoolwork. He walked straight out of the room, leaving the door open and heading for the front door.
They’d been gone since yesterday, and I hadn’t gotten any sleep last night. Everything far too quiet for me to be comfortable.
I noticed the way Dash’s hand rested on the gun tucked into the back of his jeans as he peeked out the front door before letting out the long breath he’d been holding. “They’re back.”
I continued to read the book I’d found hidden in the back of my wardrobe, ignoring Hype and Warden as they stomped inside the house, muttering between one another and patting Dash on the back.
“See you tomorrow, Sage,” Dash called, offering me a quick wave before Warden ushered him out the door again.
Leaving us alone.
I didn’t want to see him.
To talk to him.
So I got up from the floor and walked to my bedroom door, slamming it shut before doing the same to the bathroom.
It’d been hours since that phone call.
I could still feel it in my gut.
Hype hadn’t promised me shit, but maybe I’d thought respect was something that was unspoken. I felt strangely betrayed, and it stung. I knew what he was doing, I knew he was using me to make a point with my dad, but there was a line, and he’d crossed it today.
Climbing in the shower, I let the hot water scald my skin, painting it a gentle shade of red.
There were days I would have two or three showers just so I could feel all the shit around me wash down the drain. It made me feel like I could take a breath, like I could just have that one moment to get my head together again and start afresh.
The shower door squeaked as it was pulled open, and I jumped, my hand going to my heart. It felt like it was outside my chest, and I had to desperately hold it in as it fought to escape.
“Holy crap,�
� I cursed, leaning back against the wall, unable to even protest when Hype started pulling his shirt up over his head and tossing it onto the floor.
His jeans next.
The shower cubical was small. It wasn’t meant for two people when one of them was his size. As he squeezed in, I moved to slip out with my head hung down, but his hand shot out, stopping my emergency exit.
I gritted my teeth, looking up at him, not realizing how my eyes had been burning with tears.
“Stop,” he ordered, instantly irritating me.
“Why?” I snapped back, the strange thing being the fact that we were both naked didn’t even fucking compute at that moment. The air was dense and hard to breathe. I simply wanted to escape.
“I don’t run from shit. Don’t play little silent-treatment games with me,” he growled. “If you have something to say, fucking say it.”
I felt sick.
Tears dripped down onto my cheeks, joining the spray of water from the shower, and I wiped them away with the back of my hand, refusing to let Hype see what he’d done. “You’re a piece of shit,” I spat, leaning back against the wall, needing distance.
There was this darkness in his gaze, like his eyes had almost built their own barrier of protection, a dark shadow to hide any kind of emotion or weakness from shining through. But he still said nothing.
“This what you w… wanted?” My voice caught, wavering just slightly. “Is this what you’ve been searching for? A way to break me. Because fine. You win. I lose. Are we fucking done now?” I slammed my palm against the shower door, sending it flying open and ducking out before he had a chance to grab me. Snatching the towel from the back of the door, I ripped that open too and stormed out, wrapping the soft white cotton around my rapidly cooling body.
I guess maybe I should have known better than to run from him, though.
Because I only made it a few feet inside my room before his arms circled my waist from behind, and I was lifted off the floor.
“Hype,” I hissed, my legs kicking about as he dragged me back into the bathroom.