Unable to breathe, the room closes in on me. I fight the urge to throw up again. I need a cigarette or to cut the man in front of me the way his brother cut his victims.
“And. What. Did. You. Do?” I ask, barely getting the words out.
“Nothing like you’re thinking.” He looks over my head and to the blank wall behind me. His eye twitches, making me want to stab it. “Momma and Daddy left us with Grandpa. He said he had to show us love, not just tell us. We were his to love; that’s why she left us with him. Except, I don’t like to get dirty. Never have. Grandpa always left a mess behind. Ralphie, he knew what happened to us was wrong, but he couldn’t stop himself from doing it. He needed love, craved it, and this is what we know.
“When Ralphie had enough time with the girls, he took them away, and I cleaned up. When they hurt Ralphie, though, I’m left with no choice. I have to hurt them. They had to know children are to be seen and not heard, and they aren’t in charge; we are.”
That explains why he didn’t always leave town right away. He didn’t know the girls were dead until it was announced on the news. His brother took them off. The ones that couldn’t be saved, Ralphie disposed of … like my sister left in the pipe.
Looking to my left, I see Trapper lift both of his hands up, covered in Earl’s blood. Then he shakes his head at me. Earl is dead.
With a guttural roar, Trapper leaps to the side just as I grab Em by the shoulders and pull her down, rolling her under me.
Pop. The gun goes off, and fire shoots through my bicep as the bullet grazes my arm.
Pop. Pop.
Two more rounds go off, and I wait to feel the hits. When the shuffling continues, instead, I wrap myself around Em like a cocoon, her breath hot on my neck.
“You okay?” I ask, needing reassurance. She takes too long to answer, making me panic. I feel her breathing under me, though, so I know she’s alive, but was she hit?
“Yeah, but Earl.”
“Shhh,” I soothe.
The gun slides by me on the ground.
“When I get up, you run, Em,” I say in a loud whisper. “You don’t look back no matter what you hear. I don’t know how many weapons he has. You just run.” I need to know she’s safe, no matter how many bullets I have to take.
“No, Dover, no.” She tries to move to grab me, but I have her pinned too securely.
“Em, let me protect you the only way I know how. I need you to run. Run from me, run from this.” With a kiss to her head, I jump up.
Feeling her body move from under me, I reach to my back for my gun.
Nothing. I turned it over to the deputy. Fuck!
The scene before me is like two savage beasts fighting over a cave. Trapper’s hair is stuck to his face, his hands covered in blood. Randy is swinging a knife at him.
Trapper moves forward, and Randy slices the side of his neck.
“Cut me, motherfucker!” Trapper yells. “I get off on the pain!”
The contained fury of Mitchell ‘Trapper’ Gates is long gone. In his place is a warrior who is breaking free from the man who fights to keep him inside.
I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Every time we come down to the deep south like this, Trapper ends up cut all to hell. There is only so much one man can take before the monster emerges and can’t be talked back down.
When I move to grab the gun from the floor, I see Em getting to her feet. She’s not running, though; she’s going to Earl.
“Dammit, don’t you ever fucking listen?” I yell at her, grabbing the firearm.
Her eyes meet mine, and for a moment, everything stops. “I’ll never run from you, Dover Ragnes. We’re in this together.” Her tear-streaked, bloody, swollen face is the most beautiful sight in the world.
Raising the gun, I aim, and Trapper sees me in his peripheral. At first, I don’t think he will give me the moment I need. The man in front of me is a machine, hell-bent on making Randy pay by his hands for crimes the sick fuck didn’t even commit.
I breathe in and out, watching the men in front of me. I see the slight nod from my brother before he ducks. Without hesitation, I fire.
With a shot to the throat, blood pours out of Randy as he falls to the side, gripping his wound.
Trapper stands over him, his chest heaving with every breath he takes. Blood runs down his arm and the side of his face from different cuts Randy got in. His entire body shakes as he tries to get himself back under control.
“Slice and dice, you motherfucker. You deserve to be in pieces, done slowly and painfully. You got lucky I didn’t get that opportunity.” He wipes at the blood on his face, only making it a bigger mess. “Sick fuck, I had someone try to tell me what love is before. You should know real love doesn’t hurt, and it damn sure doesn’t kill.” Spitting on the dying man, he adds, “The devil always gets his due. I’ll see you in Hell, motherfucker. You’ll get an eternity of my ass raping, and if you’re lucky, I’ll use your blood for lube.”
Without another word, Trapper storms out while I rush over to Em.
Deacon follows not far behind. First, he goes to Earl to check for a pulse. Shaking his head, he confirms the body is lifeless. Going to Randy, he checks, smiling this time.
“No crime goes unpunished forever, not when we’re around. See you in Hell, motherfucker,” Deacon says over Randy before calling emergency services. There were too many shots fired in a business district to leave without an explanation.
I stand over Randy’s bleeding body. “For Raleigh,” I whisper, finally feeling like I did something for my sister after all these years.
Backing away, I sit in a chair at the table with Em on my lap while we wait to give our statements. My left arm burns from the bullet, and my right arm is still bleeding some from the cut at the camper with Ralph.
Deputy Dumbass arrives again. I guess it’s easier than trying to explain to someone else, but damn, I wish there were someone a little more competent. After too many years watching too many crimes go unpunished, I’m bitter and beyond tired of explaining myself to dickwads who only halfway do their jobs. I only want a shower, clean clothes, and to be balls deep inside Em.
“Reckon we better take this down to the station before I end up with more bodies than the morgue’s got space for.” He tries to joke. He looks from my bleeding arms to Em’s battered face. “We need to get y’all seen first.” The officer then looks at Deacon. “You need to call your friend Trapper. You mentioned him in the brief summary; he’ll need to come to the station, too.”
Deacon nods. Trapper won’t come back around, though, until he’s damn good and ready. He won’t return until he feels like he has himself back under control and possibly until he feels he’s mourned the man who helped him years ago.
The deputy calls for an additional ambulance as I try to explain the wounds are superficial. The real damage—I look over my shoulder at Earl—can’t be repaired. Another scar to my soul. It’s another domino to fall in the aftermath of a crime going unpunished.
Unfortunately, according to the laws I don’t believe in, I have to answer some questions, clear my name … and then I will be balls deep in my woman.
Chapter Eighteen
~Emerson~
“What happens now?” I ask Dover as we walk out of the sheriff’s department.
“Well, can’t leave town.” He looks around like he’s going over options in his mind. “Guess I’ll be crashing with you for a while. First, we need a shower. Then I’m gonna get you dirty in a good way,” Dover tries to lighten the mood, but I hear the exhaustion in his voice.
“Is it really over?”
“This case is.” He looks ahead of us like he’s trying to search out the future. “Gotta check in with Rowdy to see if he got the hair and ribbon sent off to the lab. Then there is a little girl in the hospital one of us needs to follow up with somehow.”
“Ribbon and hair?” I ask as my heart feels heavy just thinking of a ribbon.
“Found at the camper. It m
ay be the link that proves he had Raleigh.” He runs his hand through his hair. “He had quite a few”—Dover’s face twists in disgust—“trinkets. The DNA from the twins will match, so we do have the semen sample to test both of them against. At least, with the DNA, we can give closure to the grieving families.”
“He kept her hair?” The realization hits me. The sick fuck kept a trinket from her.
I stop by the bushes on the sidewalk, lurching to dry heave over them. Anguish twists deep inside me. Not only did Raleigh suffer—as did the other victims—but this man held on to a piece of her.
Anger clouds my vision. I feel robbed somehow. He took her from us, from the world, but that wasn’t enough. He had to keep her hair with him.
Two hands come around, pulling my hair back and holding it out of my face.
How sick can a person be? Raleigh thought ribbons would fix everything … He kept that piece of her.
“The ribbon was found on her, though.” I give myself hope it wasn’t hers.
On a sigh, he says, “She had pigtails that day, Emerson. Only one ribbon was recovered at the scene.”
The weight that has held me back for so many years suddenly feels lessened. As much as this hurts, I can finally let go. Raleigh can find her peace. I will always miss her, but the burden of not knowing can go away with the confirmation of DNA.
I rub the ribbon tattooed on my wrist. Not a day will go by that I won’t think of my best friend. Ribbons do fix everything.
I give a smile small and stand up. “How many more crimes like this will you chase?”
“As many as I run into … until the day I die.”
Grabbing his hand, I stop him from continuing. Then I roll up on my tiptoes and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’m proud of you.”
His eyes darken before he turns to face me. His lips crash to mine, and his tongue seeks entrance before I can register that he’s kissing me.
Passion and emotion take over, causing me to forget everything except the sensations of Dover’s hands all over me.
He pulls away on a growl. “Gotta get you home before I fuck you against the jailhouse.”
I let out a laugh, and my face tightens in pain. The adrenaline is starting to wear off, and I’m starting to feel all of the effects of the day.
Climbing on Dover’s bike behind him, I settle in. I watch as he rubs his thumb over a small yellow ribbon painted on the gas tank of his Harley. It tells me, regardless of the moments we share, Raleigh is never far from our minds or our hearts.
I smile for the first time in probably forever as I think of my childhood friend watching me with her brother.
“For Raleigh,” I say to Dover and am rewarded with his tired face breaking into a full smile.
He may want to be balls deep in me, but I want him just as much. After a day full of fear, sadness, and closure, I need to feel alive with Dover. It’s more than being turned on. Today, we all could have died. Randy killed Earl, and he could have added me to his list of victims, as well. It’s a miracle he didn’t shoot Dover and Trapper the minute they came in without Ralph. We survived when it could have easily been the other way around.
As we ride past the shop with the yellow tape closing off the area, I feel the heavy sadness of Earl’s loss. I may not like the truth behind Earl being in my life, but I can never forget the man who gave me my art.
Pulling into my house, I feel the exhaustion of the day wash over me. My face throbs, and I feel like I could bathe for days on end before I’d be clean.
Dover and I climb off his bike silently. At my back door, he gives me a smirk when the knob twists open with no resistance.
“Darlin’, you gotta know, locks aren’t a bad thing.” He enters my home first as I follow.
Deciding I don’t want anything heavy between us today after everything, I roll up on my tiptoes and whisper in his ear, “Don’t really think I need locks when you’re here.”
He wraps his arm around my neck before pulling me closer to him. “Does that mean you don’t plan to stay alone tonight?”
Batting my eyelashes playfully, I say, “Well, given my aversion to locks, it might be in my best interest to have you hang around.”
We both laugh as Dover leads me to my bathroom. After turning on the tub faucet, he turns back to me, heat burning in his eyes, and there is also relief in his features even after the long day we had.
“I’ll go get some clothes,” I whisper a little sultrier than I intended.
“None needed.” Dover’s voice is raspy with the fatigue from the day and his need. “We’re gonna relax for a while and then go to bed. I don’t see where, at any time, you’ll need clothing.”
As the water continues to fill, I step away, only to be pulled back against him. With his fingertips, he lifts my chin before softly touching his lips to mine.
“So much more,” he whispers against my mouth as I open for his tongue to tangle with my own. Slowly, tenderly he kisses me. His roaming hands are like feather-light touches.
Lost in the moment, I yelp when he scoops me up and effortlessly places me in the bathtub.
“Who knew a biker could be so gentle?” I tease as he turns off the faucet.
“I’m tryin’ to get you cleaned up and relaxed from the day, Em. We’ve been through hell.”
Touching his face ever so softly, I look into his iris eyes. “I look like hell, I’m sure.” I didn’t mean to admit my insecurity, and it leaves me feeling like a needy woman, which I’m not.
“Em, you’re still the most beautiful woman in the world to me. If I could go back and put an extra bullet in the fucker for hurting you, I would.”
Well, damn. If that ain’t romance, I don’t know what is.
When Dover leans over me to kiss me again, I realize how little he’s let me take charge.
In an instant, I reach up and pull on his shirt until I can get my hands around his neck. At first, he tries to back up, but I grip him more tightly. Finally, he loses his balance, and with an ungraceful fall, he’s on top of me in the tub with water splashing everywhere. The feel of his leather cut against the sensitive skin of my naked breasts only makes me more aware of my desire for him.
Inhaling, I find he still smells of cigarettes, leather, and the musk that is all his own. As he moves to better fit in the small space of the tub with me, I slide my legs open under him to come around his sides, relishing the feel of his wet denim against my inner thighs.
My body aches for his touch. Deep inside of me, emotions swell as I yearn to connect with Dover again.
He crashes his lips onto mine, and his tongue roughly seeks entrance. My body arches on its own, wanting more contact.
With some effort, his wet clothes are removed and tossed to the floor. Then he guides his hardness between my pussy lips, working me before slowly entering. I can’t contain my emotions as my eyes meet his.
For the first time since Raleigh was taken, I feel hope for my future. For the first time in my life, my heart feels complete. For the first time ever, I feel like everything may fall down around me, but somehow, some way, it will all be okay.
Chapter Nineteen
~Dover~
Three Months Later
“We got shit sorted for Earl, Collector. Time to roll out,” X reminds me of what I have been putting off.
We have spent the last few months showing the good boys in blue here in Alabama that we really weren’t causing trouble, merely cleaning up.
Judge hands me the file, the case that changed the entire course of my life, Gretchen’s life, and Emerson’s life, along with our parents. Raleigh Ragnes can be put to rest now.
No more cold case, no more dead ends, no more leads that go on yet go nowhere.
When the lab results came back, the hair in the ribbon I found was a match to my sister’s DNA. After some prompting from us, along with a few well-placed phone calls to some political connections, the sheriff’s department ran the DNA of Ralph, who turned out to be Kris Bradley. A
fter the confirmed identity, he was tied back to more than twelve cases across the United States, all involving girls under the age of thirteen and all of them rape victims with only a handful surviving.
Erica Hall is doing the best she can, given her trauma. She was hospitalized for a while in order to prevent infections as her body healed. Shock has set her back socially, as she doesn’t speak to anyone who isn’t her direct family. Her therapist doesn’t want to push, so it’s still not completely clear how the fucker got her yet. In time, the physical wounds will heal, but the scars to her soul will never diminish. At least, at the end of every day, she can sleep at night, knowing this man didn’t get away.
When Judge and Rowdy went back to the camper the brothers owned, a young woman approached. Her name was Andrea, and apparently, being neighbors with the brothers, when Ralph went off his rocker once, she tried to track down Randy at the shop to help calm him down. She lied saying she wanted a piercing, but really she was concerned. After seeing the crime scene tape and hearing the news reports, she is thankful and damn lucky she didn’t find the brother’s keeper that day.
Randy Jones, who turned out to be Stephen Bradley, really took his job seriously. He was a one-man protector and cleanup crew, all wrapped up together. No matter what his brother got into, he always got them both out of it.
Andrea would have been Randy’s next victim for knowing too much if she found him that day she was looking so nervous at the shop.
As for the reasons why, I couldn’t give a fuck. Mentally insane, PTSD—none of it will bring my sister back or the other victims. From what Deacon gathered, the brothers were fraternal twins, having some similarities but not being completely identical who were dumped off by their mother to be raised by their disturbed grandfather. The old man lived alone with the two boys on a farm in Wyoming. They were sheltered to the point that the man “homeschooled” them, keeping them from the outside world. Once he died, the two were sent out into the land of the living with no real skillsets to get by in life, and the only love they were ever shown was the physical affections of a dirty old man.
In The Red: Nomad Bikers (Devil's Due MC Book 1) Page 12