by Sophia Gray
I parked, jogged inside, took the stairs two at a time and knocked on the door marked 352. No answer.
All of my boys gave me a key to their place—strictly for emergencies. If the boys in blue came calling, if things needed to be cleared away, if they needed anything at all, I would handle it. As the leader of the Devil’s Horns, that was my job. I looked out for my own. Mutual respect. I had their backs, and they had mine. We might not share blood, but we were family just the same.
It took me a few minutes to locate the right key, and my hand didn’t shake as I inserted it into the slot. The doorknob turned easily in my hand. I inhaled deeply and then again more easily. Thank fuck the place didn’t reek. It didn’t smell like a dead body. Yeah, my mind had gone there. Paranoid. Worried. Anxious. I wasn’t used to feeling these emotions, but something was wrong here. I had a sixth sense about this kind of thing.
The apartment was fairly messy, but it looked like an organized mess, not like the place had been ransacked. It didn’t look like someone had left in a hurry, or maybe it did. The mess made it impossible for me to be sure either way.
I closed the door behind me, locked it, and entered the apartment farther. There weren’t any clues as to where the couple might have gone, no ticket stubs or mailers or envelopes, so I examined the kitchen. There wasn’t a ton of food in the fridge or freezer. The cabinets were fairly empty, too. Packed up and taken with? Or did Trenton just need to go grocery shopping?
The bedroom held no clues either, but in the bathroom, hidden all the way in the back beneath the tiny sink, I finally discovered something, hit the jackpot, but not the kind I would’ve preferred to find. There, obviously kept in secret, was drug paraphernalia.
Interesting. And infuriating. So fucking frustrating. Just looking at this pissed me off. I had a feeling Trenton may have been trying to trade drugs. Given that he was now missing, he most likely had gotten himself killed for it.
My hands curled into fists. What happened to loyalty? What happened to being a family? A lot of my guys had been forsaken from their birth families for one reason or another, and I had welcomed them into the MC. If one fell, we helped to pick him back up again. When one of us failed, we all failed, but we would work together to change it around and turn it into triumph. We all had our issues and our problems, but we were much stronger together than apart.
Trenton Young had been a part of the crew for years now. He’d come to me when he’d turned sixteen, and he was twenty-two now. His parents had kicked him out because they caught him doing drugs. I’d helped him get clean. I gave him a place to stay. He had done well. Thrived even. Trenton earned himself a place in the ranks of the Devil’s Horns.
But he had always copped a little bit of an attitude. He had a chip on his shoulder. It took two years for me to learn that Trenton’s father had done drugs heavily himself, and when he came down from his high, he tended to turn into an abusive asshole. Trenton had tried for years to convince his mom to run away. She refused. Trenton had no other family members to turn to, so it wasn’t much of a surprise that he decided to experiment and see what exactly the appeal of drugs was, to try to understand why his father would take them.
If Trenton had gotten his own stash, maybe his father wouldn’t have thrown him out, but he claimed Trenton stole from him. Trenton hit rock bottom, chasing after a high, trying to make sense out of life. That was when I found him. I gave him meaning. I gave him a reason to fight. I gave him his life back.
Shortly after he turned nineteen, or maybe twenty, he went back home and beat the living shit out of his father. When I heard about it, some of the boys and I came around to collect Trenton. His father never said a word, never pressed charges. Maybe it was wrong, but I didn’t blame the kid for what he’d done. After all the abuse he’d suffered, he had turned tables on his abuser.
Sometime later, I heard Trenton’s mom ran away, but he never went to see her. “She chose him over me,” he had said.
The kid had trust issues. He had a big problem taking orders from authority figures. He was still trying to sort out where he belonged in the world. And I didn’t mind. He had been through a lot, so it was understandable. At first. But that the same old song and dance continued for years did grow tiresome, and some of the patience I geared toward him wore thin. Did he respect me? I wasn’t sure. Hell, he might even resent me because he didn’t want to rely on anyone. It had been a little while since we last had a talk, a real one, about his issues. I sure as hell wasn’t a psychiatrist, and maybe he needed one, but I was more than willing to be a sounding board and a listening ear. Some distance and a cool head and a different perspective were sometimes all the guys needed to figure out how to better their lives and fix their problems.
Trenton never did talk to me about his love life. Some of the guys went through women as fast as I did, so I didn’t bother to pay attention to their newest squeeze. Now that I thought about it, I thought I did meet his Sage once or twice. I was sure of it. She was tall, thin, blonde hair, blue-eyed. I remembered being proud that he had caught someone like her after the hell he’d been through. Sage and I had never spoken, though. I didn’t know her story. And everyone had a story.
Did she know about his history with drugs? Maybe he wanted to make more money to impress her. Or maybe she pushed him into it. Maybe she had a connection to drugs herself. Who the hell knew?
Okay. So, girl, drugs…That was a start, but what else?
I was about to check out the bedroom when a loud knock sounded at the front door.
Who the fuck was that? Not Trenton. He wouldn’t knock. I doubted his girl would either. Someone else, then. The guy who gave Trenton the drugs?
There was more knocking, almost banging. Some yelling, but the voice was muffled, so I couldn’t make out the words. Whoever it was, he or she wasn’t going away.
The last thing I wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to the apartment, especially because of the disappearances, and the drugs too. Fuck me.
Grumbling to myself, muttering a curse, I opened the door. A gorgeous brunette stared at me with disbelief in her dark eyes.
I glowered at her. I didn’t have time to deal with this shit. I had a mystery on my hands. If Trenton hadn’t started to deal drugs, maybe he was back to taking them again. Either way—dealing or using—he would need my help to get him out of the mess he had caused.
She put her hands on her curvy hips and glared right back at me. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it turned me on. Just the right amount of cocky attitude.
“Where is Trenton?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing.
Who was she? An old girlfriend? She looked older than Trenton, though. A few years younger than me. And hot as fuck.
And pissed as fuck, too.
And I was only going to make her more pissed off.
“Just leave.” I stepped back and started to close the door. I didn’t have time for her, even though I kind of wanted to make some time.
The woman shoved her foot forward to stop me. “I’m not leaving until you answer my questions,” she said hotly. “I take it Trenton isn’t here.”
Really? She thought her tiny foot would stop me? I could pick her up and throw her over my shoulder easily. Which actually wouldn’t strike me as such a bad idea if I didn’t have to worry about Trenton. At times, he felt like a younger brother, one who sometimes ignored me but generally followed my advice and direction.
But, yes, the idea of picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom wasn’t a terrible idea. I gave her a slow once-over, and oh yeah, I wouldn’t mind getting to know her once I sorted out everything with Trenton. Long legs, supple arms, and a throat I’d love to suck on. If I weren’t careful, I’d get a massive hard-on. I wondered if she was as flexible as she looked. Not that I could really afford the time to find out, but I would love to go all Kama sutra on her ass.
She crossed her arms over her ample chest. “Well? Trenton?” she asked, a slight edge creeping into her tone.
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br /> “Not here.” I shouldn’t be wasting time with her, so I started to close the door again.
She didn’t move aside. “Look,” she said, now a little desperate, “I’m not here for Trenton. I’m looking for Sage. Do you—”
Wait. She knew both Trenton and Sage? Maybe she would have a lead. And her voice was rising. I couldn’t have everyone knowing Trenton was missing. People talked, and if word got out, well, I wanted this whole thing wrapped up as quickly as possible.
I threw open the door, yanked on her arm, and pulled her inside. I closed the door behind us, holding her far closer than I should, just because I could, just because I wanted to. Her eyes grew wide. She was obviously freaked out, but she wasn’t about to crumple, I could tell.
Despite myself, I was intrigued by her, this beautiful, mysterious woman. Trying to keep my distance from her and her amazing body, and also trying to keep myself from getting too excited, I asked, “What do you know about Sage, and why are you here?”
Chapter 3
Grant
I gestured for the woman to sit on the couch, but she took one look at it and shook her head. Yeah, actually I wouldn’t want to sit on it myself. It had a few questionable stains.
“Who are you?” I asked when she neglected to answer my previous question.
“Who are you?” she retorted, her brown eyes flashing. She jutted out her chin, as if trying to look down at me even though I was taller than she was.
She had fire, I’d give her that, but did she have any answers? “You’re the one who came banging on the door.” I appraised her. Was she playing me? Why was she looking for Sage?
“You’re the one who’s in an apartment that doesn’t belong to you,” the woman replied coolly.
Unflappable. I liked that. Most women caved beneath my smile and charm. Well, I hadn’t given her the charm yet, and I shouldn’t. I needed to be worried about Trenton. I needed her to answer my questions. I leveled her a stare and waited for her to start talking.
After a moment, she sighed and glanced away. “My name is Victoria.”
“Victoria…” I prompted, waving my hand for her to continue.
“Victoria Klein,” she said in a huff.
“Your connection to Trenton?” I asked.
“To Sage.” Her glower only added to her beauty. “I’m her mother,” she added after a long moment. “Adopted mother. I’m here because I want answers.”
So she knew nothing. Of course.
But to be sure, I asked, “You have no idea where Sage is?”
“I assume she’s with Trenton. Who isn’t here.” She made a point of looking around me to the obviously empty apartment.
“No, he isn’t.” I rubbed my chin, the stubble there prickly against my palm. Just what I needed. A hot mom who was going to try to stick her nose into the investigation and slow me down.
“Do you have an idea where he is?” She started to tap her foot, which made her boobs jiggle.
Really? She was giving me attitude? “I’m gonna find out,” I told her. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it. I have it all under control.”
Her eyes flashed. “She’s my daughter, and I will worry about it.”
“Look. You can either stop your foolhardy search—because I can guarantee you that you won’t get anywhere on your own—or you can come with me.”
What the fuck did I just say? I couldn’t be serious. That had to be my cock speaking. But if she really was dead set on finding her daughter, and drugs were involved, she would need to be careful, and she would need someone to keep an eye on her, whether or not she agreed with that sentiment.
“Go with you? Where?” She shook her head and before I could give her more details, she added, “I can’t. I have a restaurant to run.”
A restaurant? Was she the owner or the manager? Either way, that was impressive. My opinion of her went up a notch, but it wouldn’t stay there if she chose work over her daughter. Nothing should mean more than family.
I shrugged. “No sweat off my back. Just know the police won’t help you either. They don’t care about runaways.”
“Sage isn’t a runaway!” From the scowl on her face, I was certain the cops had mentioned the term to her. I sure hoped she gave them lip for it.
“Well then? What’s your decision?” I was done here. Wasn’t about to waste any more time. I’d already confiscated the drugs, but there weren’t any other clues to the couple’s whereabouts here. The drugs were the way to go, and again, we couldn’t have the police down our backs if we were to explore that avenue.
“I…” She took a deep breath. “Do you have any leads?”
“One.”
“Care to share it?”
“Not here.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I told you my name and my connection to them. Who the hell are you, and why do you think you can stand there and dictate what I do?”
“Grant Reardon.”
She didn’t blink.
“Haven’t you heard of me?”
She shook her head.
I blew out an exasperated breath. “Please tell me you at least know about Devil’s Horns.”
“The stupid motorcycle club Trenton’s involved in. Oh.” Her lips formed a perfect O. “You’re part of the club?”
“I’m the leader of that stupid motorcycle club actually.”
Her cheeks stained pink. “Oh,” she repeated faintly.
“That change your mind about coming with me?”
“How long has Trenton been missing?”
I grimaced. I didn’t appreciate that she answered my question with a question of her own, but I did appreciate that she hadn’t apologized for her remark about my MC. She had spunk and her own opinions. Spunk, fire, zeal—they all made for a wild time in the bedroom. “Trenton’s been gone five days as far as I can tell.”
“Sage, too,” she murmured. “They’ve got to be together.” She nodded decisively. “All right. I’ll go with you.”
“Good.”
“On one condition.”
“Look, I’m not in the mood—”
“I just want you to not keep any secrets from me. Deal?” She held out her hand.
The drugs in my back pocket burned me as I shook her hand. “Deal.”
We left the apartment, and I noticed that she watched as I locked up the joint. She followed me down the stairs and kept up my swift pace until we reached my bike.
“My car is over there.” She jerked her thumb to the left.
“Ever rode on a bike before?” I asked as I put on my helmet.
She shook her head. “Another time, maybe,” she said, but she sounded like the chances of that actually happening were poor. “I’ll follow you to…just where are we going?”
“To Devil’s Horns headquarters. Follow me.”
She started to walk away.
“Not much of a daredevil,” I grumbled under my breath.
She whirled around. “This isn’t fun and games. This is serious. If you just want to make jokes and flirt or fuck or any of that, I am not cool with it.”
Fire enough to last lifetimes. Damn.
“If I want to ride on a motorcycle, I will. Not right now. You got it?”
“Got it.”
She walked away. Her hips were swaying way too much for it to not be on purpose. I had to adjust myself in my seat before I could ride away.
Victoria kept up with me easily. She even ran a red to keep behind me. I should’ve waited the light out with her, but I liked knowing she wasn’t a stickler for the rules. She might need to bend the rules with me if we’re to find our people.
Headquarters was located on the floor above my bar. Outside of my office, there was a general room, a meeting room, two bathrooms, and a small kitchen. Posters lined the walls, pictures of my guys goofing off. On one wall, there was a mural of a bike with a man on fire driving off into the sunset. Gray Beard—real name Alan—was a crazy artist. He’d done most of us up in tats.
&n
bsp; Victoria walked over to it. “Wow,” she said.
“Nice, ain’t it?”
She nodded. “But wouldn’t the gust created from riding make the fire go out?”
I threw back my head and laughed. “Probably. It’s amazing, though. Riding. It’s powerful. Makes you feel alive.”
“Sure it does,” she said doubtfully.
“If you ever wanna find out,” I offered, “I’m your man.”
“First, I wanna find out about Sage.”
I grimaced. “First, you’re gonna meet some of the crew.” With a hand on the small of her back, I ushered her into the meeting room. Shortly before she’d knocked, I’d texted some of the guys to round everyone up for me. It was strange to walk through the general room without anyone else in it. There were always guys hanging out.