Divided (Unguarded #2)

by Ivy Stone

  I hold the phone up to Ali. “I gotta take this.”

  She nods when she sees who’s calling. “It’s all good. Take it.”

  I hesitantly swipe a finger across the screen of the phone and answer the call. “Someone better be dying.”

  “They aren’t thank fuck. ‘Bout time you answered,” Mason grumbles in my ear. Yep, he’s happy as ever.

  My brows knit in confusion, the call was from the precinct. He must be back at work. “You back at the precinct?”

  “Yeah, I am, and your ass would already be here too had you answered your phone the first time I called,” he replies, his tone sharp.

  “I was gonna call back after talking shit through with Ali. I did just find out I’m having a kid, Mase.”

  “Yeah, I get that, and I know you need to wrap your head around this, but I really need you here right now. Can you get here soon?”

  I glance over to Ali, who’s again staring out into the night like it holds all the answers to our problems. My jaw ticks. Work is the last place I wanna be right now but when Mason calls you better answer.

  “Better be fucking important,” I mumble, not bothering to try and hide my annoyance.

  “It is.”

  Mason hangs up the phone like he normally does, without a goodbye. I shove the phone back in my pocket and turn to Ali. “They need me at the precinct.”

  She tucks her hair behind her ear. “It’s okay. Go do what you’ve gotta do. I get it. Just… come home to me, okay?”

  Her words squeeze my heart. Good and bad. This job, it’s got so much to do with the rift between us, the one that’s always been there, separating us, just not separating us enough. I don’t have a chance to respond before Ali’s back is facing me, her small round ass on display in her tight jeans as she walks to the door leading back into the apartment building. The door shuts with a loud thud and I wince. This was not how I wanted this conversation to end. But progress is progress. And tonight, I’ll be going home to my woman.

  The familiar street comes into view as I pull into the curb out the front of the precinct. I step out with the scowl on my face I’ve been wearing for the past twenty minutes since I left Ali’s loft.

  I breathe in the disarray that greets me the moment I shuffle inside the place that’s always felt like home, the one place I belong. Except now, that’s not true. Because wherever Ali is, that’s where I belong. Some of the tension of the night leaves and I nod acknowledging a few of the officers as I make my way to the back where our squad room is located. Our unit has its own place in the precinct and sometimes behind those doors, it feels like a different world. Outside of those walls, there’s no trust or loyalty. We all stand behind the shield, but some are dipped in blood, not honor. Mason’s disgruntled voice bellows through the room as I twist the door handle open. “No. Shit could turn sideways fast. Bad idea.”

  “What’s a bad idea?” I ask and three sets of concerned eyes belonging to my colleagues turn my way. I walk over to my desk and fall into my chair.

  Cassidy turns back to Mason. “But boss—”

  “It’s not happening.”

  “What’s not happening?” I ask again. Frustration building in my tone.

  Trey butts in, his expression hesitant and I understand why. No one wants to be on the receiving end of Mason’s wrath.

  Trey tilts his head to the side, his face contorts causing the lines around his eyes to bunch. “Might not be a good idea, but it will move things along faster.”

  I throw my hands up, the last of my patience gone, along with Trey’s words. “Will someone tell me what the fuck’s going on?”

  Trey and Cassidy turn toward each other and Mason looks me directly in the eyes and mentions a name that makes my blood boil. “Lucio Marino. We found him…” his features darken, “…well, kind of.”

  Fury reignites, the longing to end the motherfucker who stood by and watched a fifteen-year-old Ali have her innocence stolen from her. Who beat on her, was the whole reason she became addicted to Oxy and put her to work in a strip club, underage. He and his father stole so much from me and so much from her. Pieces of her she may never get back. Her dignity, self-worth, and one thing she’ll never have again—a childhood.

  I ball my hands into fists on my desk. “What do you mean kind of?”

  Anger surges through me like lightening. I want to kill that bastard, slowly and fucking painfully.

  Mase shifts on his feet and crosses his arms over his chest. “One of Trey’s CI’s rang after you left my place a few hours ago. He gave us intel thanks to each of you putting the word out about Marino on the street with your criminal informants. The CI is the leader of a local gang in the Bronx, and during an exchange tonight he was asked if he’d seen or heard from Lucio Marino. Who apparently, is somewhere on our streets and not hiding very well.” Mase turns to me. “You’ll never guess who’s after the bastard.”

  I sit up in my seat and lean forward. “Who?”

  Cassidy pipes up before Mason can answer. “Misery’s Angels MC.”

  Confusion sets in and I frown. This can’t bring anything good. What the hell do they want with him?

  “Well, this mess keeps getting bigger and fucking bigger doesn’t it?”

  I spin around to Trey, standing behind me, tattooed arms crossed over himself. “Is this guy legit? Can we rely on the intel?”

  Trey’s only been with us three months and I still don’t know the guy all that well. Not as well as the others. I’d only shown up to Sunday family dinners when Ali either wasn’t going or wasn’t there yet. I’d distanced myself from the family. It wasn’t intentional it just sort of happened. I needed time to adjust to life without Ali, at least for a while. I needed time to breathe in what it was like to—for the first time years—really live without her.

  That meant no checking up on her. No calling her. No anything Ali. And with our close-knit family, nothing gets by anyone. Everyone is always up in each other’s shit and I couldn’t stand to see her every fucking Sunday at family dinner. Which meant I hadn’t got to know Trey like the others had. He seems cool and he’s a part of us now, but if it’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s not to give out trust that hasn’t been earned. Trey hadn’t earned mine yet, despite Mason and Cassidy having full faith in him.

  Trey nods and confidence exudes in his tone. “Yeah man. He’s all right. Low-level drug dealer I busted a few years ago while I was still working narcotics, been a CI for me ever since. Owes me his life and sure a shit won’t cross me. I believe him.”

  I don’t answer right away and the tension in the room grows with the silence until Mason cuts in.

  “If Trey believes him. We do too. He’s in the city, Roam. We just gotta find him.”

  “Yeah, ‘cause that’s gonna be a fucking walk in the park.” I rub my hands along my jaw and nod. “All right. So what’s this bad idea you were all talking about before I came in?”

  Trey runs out the words quicker than anyone can speak. “Cass suggested we bring the Angels in on this and have them work with us to find Marino. Mason said no.”

  He’s like a child trying to get the first word in to a parent. If he didn’t make for good entertainment he’d probably be annoying. He’s got this whole dorky, funny guy thing going on despite having a body covered in badass tats.

  Cassidy gestures a hand out to the screen on the wall, full of information relating to the case. “I just think it’ll be our best shot at getting Lucio and it wouldn’t be the first time the Angels have helped us.”

  “Okay. So why is this such a bad idea? I don’t get it.”

  “Well, there’s more to it. I think we need to know why the Angels really want him and they aren’t just going to tell us because we ask.” Cassidy moves toward the screen. “We’ve known for years the Angels wanted Marino’s business but they were smaller in numbers. They also didn’t have the manpower Giuseppe Marino had. With Giuseppe out of the picture that’s no longer a problem. We know they’ve taken over w
here Marino left off. Trey’s CI confirmed that. It’s obvious they’d want Lucio out of the way so there’s no chance the Marino family could take over again. But I think there’s more to this than we realize. There has to be a reason why Cannon has been asking around for him, wanting him alive. This goes deeper than just business. I’m sure of it. We’re just missing something. But by bringing them in and getting information from them gives us an in and will help us find Marino faster. We’ve spent three months trying to find him with no luck. It’s time to try something new.”

  I keep my mouth shut as we all stare at Cass while she waits for a response. I reflect on what’s been said and fuck it. Why do we need Marino alive anyway? If they don’t kill him, someone else will. It’s only a matter of time.

  I shrug. “We don’t need him alive. Who cares if it goes deeper? Let them kill him.”

  Mason shoots me hard eyes I recognize all too well. Pull your head in.

  Cass shoots me a glare and rests a hand on her hip. “We do need him alive. He needs to pay for what he’s done not just to Ali and Lindsey, but also to everyone before them. The Angels killing him would be an easy way out and he doesn’t deserve that. If they really are looking for him and know where to find him, we could get him for good this time. No way will he survive in prison. He’ll be going in for attempted murder of a police officer and without any protection. He might as well sign his own death certificate now. This is what we want, guys. I think we should, at least, give it some thought because if we don’t Misery’s Angels will get to him first. And when they do, we’ll be taking them down as well.”

  Mason shakes his head and taps a finger on the screen, over a mug shot of Axel ‘Cannon’ Hawke. For a middle-aged man, he’s in good shape and one look at him would send most people running in the other direction. He might be graying around the sides but his flinty eyes and angry frown scream badass.

  “We’ve had an agreement with the Angels for a long damn time. I don’t like it, never have. But we lose that good faith. Shit could end really badly… blood bath, badly…” he trails off. ”They’ve never been the primary target.”

  “Well, they are now,” I respond.

  Mason stares at the board. What he said is true. They never have been our primary target and that’s the only reason half of the MC aren’t rotting away in prison cells.

  Mase runs a hand through his hair and paces the room. “All right. Let’s do this. Roam and I will go to Cannon,” he points to Cassidy, “I need you looking out for your partner because Trey, I need you to talk to your CI and go under for a day. Find out who else on the streets knows where Lucio might be and who the Angels have contacted asking for him. Trey, you up for this? I know you haven’t done any UC work before.”

  Trey’s lips curve into a giant fucking smirk and he raises his arms up, looking at Mason like he’s suggested something outrageous. “Mase. I’m Trey motherfuckin’ Reynolds. I got this.”

  I burst into a fit of laughter, losing my breath.

  Mason rolls his eyes and walks into his office and Cass’s face contorts into a look of disgust. “Oh my God. No. Don’t do that.”

  She shakes her head and takes a seat at her desk and I do the same.

  Trey raises his arms. “Oh, come on you guys, where’s your sense of humor.”

  Mase returns from his office and dumps a giant ass file onto Eli’s desk that Trey’s been occupying. “All right. Let’s come up with a quick plan that doesn’t get Detective Douche here killed. Then we can go home.”

  I switch off the engine, coming to a stop beside a line of black and chrome motorcycles. I peer out the front window at the tall, rendered brick building a few stories high. Bright red scrolly letters intertwine with a dark rose, illuminating the sign spanning the width of the building. The bar Black Rose looks as classy as ever with a few girls stumbling out already drunk—it’s eleven am.

  “Ready to go in?” I ask Mase, who returns me a smirk.

  “Born ready, my brother.”

  I scoff back. We both exit my car. Stopping at the wooden door with two glass panels, I push it open and a bell chimes. Stepping in, every head in the building turns our way. And every head belongs to a biker or a woman hanging off one of them. A jukebox plays low in the background as Mason comes up to stand tall beside me as we both scan the room for the one man we need to see.

  “We’re here to see Cannon. Where can I find him?” Mason’s voice travels through the bar but meets only silence. Bikers don’t talk unless they’re told too. At least not to us. Movement from the bar catches my eye and my spine stiffens. The bartender—young, maybe mid-twenties, covered in tattoos, a scowl on his face that looks like a permanent fixture is the guy I saw with Ali. He pulls the towel off his shoulder and slaps it down on the bar.

  “Prez ain’t here, Cole,” he answers Mason and walks out from around the bar, swagger in his step with shoulders back. His chest juts out, showing off the patches on his leather cut. Misery’s Angels. Manhattan. Sargent-at-arms.

  Yeah, because we can’t already tell who he is with dark chopped hair, square jaw, bright green eyes and apparently an attitude to match his old man’s. It’s like looking at Cannon, thirty years younger. Spitting image of the outlaw club president.

  He eyes me up and down. “Bring your pretty boy partner today, Cole? What happened to the little blonde thing you got strutting around your precinct?”

  My blood boils. I step closer without thinking, too quick for Mason to stop me. My chest out, nose to nose, my fists tightening by my side.

  “Pretty boy? Seriously, that all you got, man?”

  He smirks barely bothered by my presence, and I gotta admit the dude’s got balls. I’m not a small guy. Not many men have willingly taken me on unless I’ve got a gun aimed at their head or they’re trying to escape arrest.

  I feel an arm on my shoulder and when I turn I see Mason, pulling me back but his eyes narrowing at this punk.

  “Ace, you disrespect one of my team again and I’ll knock your ass out. Now go find your president. I’ll be waiting at the bar.”

  Ace comes back with nothing, just stares Mase and I down as we wander over to the bar and pull up a chair at one end away from everyone else. A cute little bartender offers us a drink and we wait. We wait until fifteen minutes later when Cannon and his Vice President walk through the door of Black Rose.

  Cannon pulls out a stool beside Mason. “Cole. What can I do for you?”

  “Lucio Marino. We know you want him. What we don’t know is why?” He gets straight to the point.

  “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Come on, Cannon. You give me what I want and we keep your youngest out of prison. Hell, you help us catch Marino and I might be able to cut a deal with your boy Diesel’s lawyer. Early parole would be nice. He might even get out in time for his daughter’s fifteenth...” he angles his head to the side, “…her fifteenth birthday is it?”

  Cannon’s stool creaks as he moves in his seat. He twists the beer bottle the other bartender placed in front of him a minute ago, in his hand.

  He sighs. “All right. Let’s talk. Not here, though. Come on.”

  He chin lifts to the stairs that lead up to the MC’s clubhouse. I follow behind the two men because I’ve never been up there before, only Mason has. We step out into a large room with pool tables, another bar, a few lounge suites and a stage in the far corner with a stripper pole bolted in. Apart from the stench of beer, pot and pussy, the place is pretty clean. We don’t walk into the main room. Instead, we head mid-way down a hall off the stairs. Cannon sinks down into a chair behind a thick wooden desk.

  Mason leans against the wall, hands in his pants pockets. “Tell me what I need to know, Cannon. What do you know that we don’t?”

  Cannon clasps his hands together on the desk and while I listen, I take in the history filling the room. Old photos. New photos. They line every wall of the guy’s office. Some are mug shots. Most are family photos. Club members w
ith their kids and wives. “Heard this morning he was seen at one of the Marino properties downtown. In and out and gone with the wind before we could get to him unfortunately. As for why we want him. It’s personal.”

  Mason wastes no time. “I need to know, Cannon. Gotta know if it’s going to interfere with our case? I can’t have you killing the bastard on my watch. Even if he does deserve it.”

  Cannon stays quiet for a moment. “He was seeing, Elena. My daughter. Ace’s twin sister. She didn’t know who he was at first. When she realized, she broke it off with him and he beat her. He beat her so bad he cracked three of her ribs, fractured an eye socket and marked her with bruises that lasted weeks.”

  “When was this?” Mason quips as I scan the photos. A smile catches my attention. A smile I could never forget. I cock my head to get a better look at the woman in the photo under the arm of a much younger Axel ‘Cannon’ Hawke. My mouth falls open. My chest tingles. Breathing becomes difficult as the smile in the photo becomes a flashback of the real thing in my mind. Her beautiful face stares back at me. Happy. Loving. Alive.

  “Mom.” I whisper and it takes me back.

  I clung to Grandma’s neck tighter. Tucking my face away. Away from the rough voices. Rough voices that sounded like the bad man who hurt Momma.

  She squeezed me tight and whispered in my ear, “It’s okay, Roamyn. You can open your eyes.”

  I didn’t want to look. I shook my head.

  “Why did this happen?” I heard Grandma ask and I dropped my chin to my chest to peek out a little.

  Axel, the man who sometimes came over to play with me runs a hand through his hair that was all the way to his shoulders. “It was revenge. I’m sorry, Beth. So fuckin’ sorry.” His eyes twinkled with tears. “I’ll make them pay. That’s a promise.”

  “It’s okay, Axel. She always knew it could end this way. I’ll call you when it’s safe.”

  Grandma shifted me into her arms and walked us to the front door where there were cases full of our stuff. She told me we were going on a holiday. She opened it and I looked over her shoulder at the three big men in our little kitchen. Axel looked at me and I could tell he was sad. I just didn’t know why.