WITHOUT SHAME: Babylon MC Book 4

by James, Victoria L.

  “Jacob would argue against that.”

  “Jacob didn’t like the fact that we knew he was dealing drugs in our safe space,” I hit back. “Perhaps you knew about that before we did.”

  The small crowd of people gasped, each one looking at the other, their mouths moving as they asked if it could be true.

  Walsh cricked his neck, the heat rising in his cheeks as he reached for his tie again.

  “But we probably shouldn’t talk about that publicly, should we?” I smiled flatly, both brows rising. “Not many of Babylon’s issues are discussed in public, are they, Mayor?”

  “You need to leave, Mr. Tucker. This is a public announcement concerning—”

  “The land over on thirty-one fifty and thirty-one sixty. Yeah. I know. And we’re here to say we’re never going to let that land be sold.”

  The irritation I let creep into my voice was like a small nugget of a victory for Mayor Walsh, his back straightening and his smile rising as he looked down the aisle at me. “You have less power than you think you do, I’m afraid. You may be more than just a motorcycle club, but you are nothing to this town and the decisions it makes.”

  At once, a few heads snapped up to look at him, the residents of Babylon scowling at him as he showed a side of himself they hadn’t seen before. We’d grown closer to the people since the night of the warehouse, and it seems our little mayor had forgotten that, if only for a moment.

  “We don’t get a say at all?” I asked sarcastically. “Nothing?”

  His jaw twitched as he looked down at everyone in front of him.

  I chose that moment to strike, reaching out to both sides and hooking my arms around the two men beside me. Rubin and Owen fell into place next to me, their bodies stumbling before they stood taller and kept their balance. Owen stiffened in my grip, every part of him wanting to fight to push me off as he looked up at Mayor Walsh like he didn’t know him. He failed, and the subtle swallowing of guilt drifted down his neck like a lodged stone. He didn’t even need to tell me what he’d done now. I could feel it as I held onto him, and his confession was etched into his eyes. Rubin, however, was relaxed. His shoulders slumped in my grip, and when he looked up at his father, there was defiance there.

  A little bit of hatred, too.

  Mayor Walsh’s face fell as soon as he saw his son, and when his attention drifted over to Owen, he looked pissed. Was he wondering if Owen had confessed everything to me and had double betrayed us both? I hoped so. I really did. Which was why I chose to rest my head against Owen’s while I had the Mayor’s attention, my smile smug and knowing.

  “Do we look like nothing to you, Mayor Walsh?” I tugged on Owen’s shoulder, bouncing him in my grip. “This man right here is one of the most intelligent men I’ve ever had the pure delight of working beside. I mean, shit,” I laughed. “If you want your books keeping in order, he’s your guy. If you want to know anything —anything—about anyone within a hundred- kilometer radius, well, I bet this guy can probably tell you. He has eyes and ears everywhere. Has his fingers in a lot of pies, too. But do you know what the best thing about him is?”

  Owen tensed even more, his fists flexing down by my thigh, while Walsh’s face flexed in anger as he replied through gritted teeth. “What?”

  “The best thing about Owen Sinclair is his unwavering loyalty to his brothers.”

  Walsh looked at Owen, his eyes going wild with questions he couldn’t ask out loud.

  “And this kid.” I tugged on Rubin’s shoulder, pulling him closer. “Ah, this kid. Your very own son. The unsung hero of Babylon. The one who stopped those horrible Navarro rifles—you may have heard of them—from shooting an innocent woman in the head when they rode into our town and tried to bring disruption, murder, and scandal to our streets.”

  More gasps from the crowds, the information more like a story to their innocent ears, each of them looking around at once another again.

  “I’ll never understand why you didn’t tell the whole world how brave your son was that night, Mayor Walsh. I’ll never understand why you kept his story so… quiet. So under wraps. He took a shot against a man who was going to kill an innocent woman dead in the street without any reason or motive. Your son did that. He saved a beautiful woman’s life, and you haven’t built a statue in his honor.” I shook my head again and wrinkled my nose. “Weird.”

  The Mayor cleared his throat roughly before he rested both palms on the stand in front of him and leaned forward. “Rubin?”

  But Rubin just shook his head, telling his dad he was staying exactly where he was.

  “In fact,” I interrupted, glancing up at the sky. “Weren’t you the one to actually help those Navarro guys get away from Babylon without any charges or arrests?”

  The Mayor was openly furious now, his fists shaking and his face turning purple. “That doesn’t sound accurate,” he forced out through tight lips.

  “Really?” I sighed heavily. “My mistake. But don’t you worry about Rubin. We’ve celebrated this unsung hero enough in the last month alone than you have in the kid’s sixteen years of life.”

  “Mr. Tucker, if you don’t leave, I’ll be calling the police to—”

  The laughter that roared free from me had my head falling back and my chest bouncing furiously. When I looked up, my smile beaming and my eyes glistening with tears, I released Owen and Rubin, leaving them at the back of the group of men before I marched forward with purpose, heading straight for Walsh.

  Three men immediately appeared from nowhere, stepping out in front of his stand to scare me with their earpieces in place and their guns in their hands. It made me high on life, knowing they were there for me. Stopping halfway down the aisle they’d created between the seats, I joined my hands together and let them hang limply in front of me.

  “Go ahead.” I chucked my chin again. “Call the police.” I gestured to Winnie, not looking away from Walsh as I did. “Hell, get the ATF to come by The Hut and take a look around, no warrant needed. We’ve got a lot of paperwork I bet they’d be real interested in taking a look through.” I raised a brow at Walsh, watching the fear and uncertainty flicker through his eyes with every breath he took.

  The guy was panicking all right.

  He had no idea who was on his side. Owen? Rubin? The town and all the people in it?

  “Men like Harry, God rest his soul, and Owen who I just introduced you to… those guys keep records of everything. Accounts, receipts, diaries, stories of places we’ve been… people we associate with. We have a lot of photographs, too. Owen especially likes to keep photographic evidence of CCTV footage wherever the hell he goes. We’ve probably got everything you need. Lots and lots of webs to untangle.”

  I saw Walsh gulp, his face stern as he studied me.

  “I’ll let them search through all our shit because my club and I have fuck all to hide,” I told him firmly, all humor falling away from my voice and my face. “I’ll let them search through my shit if you’ll agree to let them search through yours, Mayor Walsh. What do you say? A show of my hand for yours?”

  He held my gaze intently, looking like he was about ready to rip my head off in front of his own son, but then his eyes rose to look beyond me, his smile creeping into place and making me scowl.

  I was too focused on him.

  On watching the smile I wanted to twist in my grip and rip from his face.

  I was too lost in winning.

  The sound of the engine roaring to life behind us didn’t register until it was too late.

  “Shit!” Jedd cried, and when I turned around to see what the fuck was going on, I saw Owen making his escape.

  The rat on the run.

  He was getting away, and with one look in Jedd’s eyes, I knew he knew what the hell was going on now.

  The world seemed to move in slow motion as I leaned forward, used all the power I had within me to yell at my men. “No! Fuck. Stop that motherfucker. Stop him now!”

  Chapter Thirty-Five


  AYDA

  I felt weird being alone in the utterly empty Hut.

  Gone was the usual signs of life, the usual rumble of conversation, chatter of a television, or even the quiet hum of a radio playing music. There was no rumble of motorcycle engines, the gurgling of coffee makers, or the clinking of beer bottles. There was nothing but silence. Not even the chorus of cicadas could penetrate the stillness that surrounded me.

  It felt wrong.

  Worse than that, I couldn’t seem to bring myself to step over the threshold into Harry’s room. The one thing Drew had asked from me, and here I was choking.

  I’d watched them all roll out of the yard, and I’d even gone about mundane tasks, every one of my senses trained on the silent building waiting for someone to jog in because they’d forgotten something, It hadn’t happened.

  I’d approached Harry’s room and flung open the door, stopping dead in my tracks when that scent of motor oil, beer, and cigarettes hit me like a warm embrace. It was a full and brutal reminder that he was gone.

  “Okay Harry,” I said, finally stepping through the door and glancing around. I took a deep breath and headed to the nightstand. I searched two drawers before I came across a small arsenal. The long bowie knife he always carried with him was laid atop his 9mm and a .38 special. There was also a heavy set of brass knuckles with the reaper and hound beveled in the business end, as well as a switchblade and a Glock 1911 and a .22, which looked like a toy gun next to some of the others. The last gun I found looked like a damn cannon, and from what I could see, it was a desert eagle. The rest was ammunition.

  I knew where to come if we ever needed a munitions cache. The man was prepared for World War Three.

  I took my time moving around his room after that. I was respectful of his things and the order in which he kept them. His space was organized chaos. There was a stash of porn and biker mags that would make a teenage boy envious, and photographs of him with women I’d never seen before filled a lockbox that hadn’t been locked in decades if the latch was anything to go by. His whole life had been condensed into one room, and it was in this moment of reflective silent solitude that I was finally beginning to realize what a life he’d had.

  As much as I wanted to sit down and follow the story he was telling, I couldn't. I had a job to do. I had a purpose. Harry had suspected someone of betraying the club, and I knew the man well enough to understand he’d had his eye on Owen, even if he hadn’t been willing to say it aloud or point the finger of accusation at him directly. Harry didn’t do things in halves. He would have had the start to the paper trail we’d just followed through to the end. I just had to find it first.

  I moved around the room trying my best to be clinical in the way I looked at things. I tried to get into Harry’s mind, following the path of least resistance. When I searched his desk drawers, I found nothing and moved on, but something was nagging at me. Something obvious that kept drawing my eyes back to that 1970’s metal monstrosity of a desk he had taking up a good third of his room. I moved back to it and dropped to my knees by the largest drawer.

  The lock had been jimmied at some point, the dent in the metal a big red flag, and when I pulled the drawer open again, I looked at it all a second time. Someone had been through these files recently, I could tell. Scanning the tabs, I saw names of every man in the club, and at the back sat mine, Tate, and Rubin’s names, too.

  I didn’t bother looking at the boys’ files. I already knew what I would find in there. Instead, I pulled mine from the very back and dropped it to the floor in front of me. It was all standard background checks and files on my college days, hospital reports, report cards, and bank statements. None of which shocked me. Behind all of that, there was a file on my parents. I pulled it out and opened it, swallowing hard as I pulled a thick padded envelope from inside. My parents’ names were printed on the front, and the envelope was sealed. Whoever had gone through his office hadn’t looked into this one at all.

  “Oh, old man. You knew us all too well,” I murmured, turning the envelope over and breaking the seal.

  Pulling out the contents, I almost whooped in excitement. The file had nothing to do with my parents, their deaths, or their financial statements. The whole thing was exactly what I’d been looking for. Harry had hidden it all in plain sight. He’d known that if I hadn’t found this, Drew would have at some point, and curiosity would have ensured that he would have opened it sooner rather than later. To anyone else, it was just another background check, and Harry being his usual, thorough self.

  I thumbed through the papers, not really understanding much of what I was reading. There were some stills taken from the pawnshop’s video camera of Owen talking to someone on his cell phone. He obviously thought he was out of range of the camera, and almost was. There was a couple of photocopies of the club’s finances, membership papers, newspaper clippings, deeds and titles, financial statements, bank records, stock market shares, even off books clinic visits that weren’t from the club’s usual doctor. These were all things I knew Drew, or even Eric, would understand more than I would. I just knew this, beyond even a reasonable doubt, was evidence, and it was what I’d been looking for.

  I pulled the file back together and tried to push it all back into the envelope with as much finesse as I could manage. I’d been sitting on the floor for so long my ass had gone to sleep, and my legs were stiff. Glancing up at the clock, I realized that the boys had been gone for hours now, and I had no idea how long it would be until they started to wander back through the front door. I had to get out of Harry’s room and hide the file in our room before anyone returned. I also needed to make sure Harry’s things were as he’d left them.

  Making a quick choice, I sprinted to our room and slipped the file into a small drop box at the back of the safe. It was hidden, and only went one way, so there was no risk of anyone retrieving what I’d just put inside. Not until Drew opened the door and looked for himself, anyway.

  It didn’t really escape my notice that I’d just delivered Owen Sinclair’s death warrant in a pretty manila envelope. In fact, I felt proud of myself for it. The bastard had always been on the peripheral watching everyone as though he were the king and this was his court of fools. It was one of those silly things that nudged my irritation, but I always brushed it away as another one of those weird dynamics they had in the club. It felt like some kind of justification to know my intuition hadn’t been wrong about the guy.

  As I stood staring at the safe in satisfied wonder, the silence that I’d grown so accustomed to in the last couple of hours was disturbed by a slamming door somewhere inside the building.

  My heart started to pound painfully in my chest at the realization I was no longer alone. And, I’d left Harry’s door wide open.

  Grabbing Drew’s hoodie, I pulled it over my head and ran headlong down the corridor toward Harry’s room. The bar was just around the corner. All it would take is one of the guys walking to their room to see the gaping void that normally held the door and Harley Davidson sign on it.

  I was only a foot from the door when I realized I hadn’t heard any bikes pull up.

  Moving forward on my toes now, I tiptoed into Harry’s room, pushing the door closed just enough to leave a tiny gap that I could see through. Whoever was in The Hut wasn’t with the club. If they were, they’d be with someone else. They would be making noise, their bikes announcing them just moments before the jukebox kicked in. I knew this place so well, I could track most of the guys from one side of the building to the other, just by the noises they made.

  I rushed to Harry’s nightstand and dropped to my knees, pulling open his drawer of weapons. Grabbing a gun seemed too reckless. If it was Rubin or Tate coming in, even Autumn to check up on me… I couldn’t finish that thought, so I grabbed the switchblade and slipped it under Drew’s long hoodie and into my pocket as a last resort. Just in case I was being paranoid.

  I’d barely pushed to my feet again when the door creaked open, and Owen cro
wded the doorway.

  I tried not to frown.

  If Owen was here alone, something had to have gone wrong.

  “Hey,” I said as relaxed as I could, forcing a smile to my lips. “You’re back early.”

  He raised his chin, poison shining out of his eyes. “Why you in here?” he asked roughly.

  “I—”

  “Cut the shit, Ayda.” He growled, squaring off his shoulders. His hands moved to his back where I knew he was either pulling his knife or his gun. It didn’t really matter which it was. Either way, I was going to be his leverage. “Give me what you have.”

  “Can’t do that.”

  “Stop fucking around and give me the goddamn papers, bitch!”

  I backed deeper into the room toward the desk, my eyes flicking to the drawer where I’d found some of Harry’s porn. It was a classic attempt at misdirection because I wasn’t feeling as panicked as I probably should have done. A part of my mind was calculating the scene, watching his hand on the 9mm that he pulled from the back of his jeans, relaxing as he let his finger sit along the side of the trigger guard, leaving the safety on... for now. The logical part of me was focusing on the door and calculating my odds of getting through it and down to the safety of Drew’s office before Owen could get a shot at me.

  “They in there?” he barked, pointing the gun at the drawer I’d glanced at. I raised my hands and slipped away from the desk, shaking my head, playing the scared little rabbit I used to be. All the while I was rotating us, putting him closer to the desk and myself closer to the door again.