Beard Mode (The Dixie Warden Rejects MC Book 1)

by Lani Lynn Vale

  Imogen? Where was Imogen?

  “Nothing. She’s still missing.”

  Why was she missing?

  “Couple of prospects followed the van while one of them stayed with Aaron. Some gang member died trying to protect Aaron, though. Shot about fifteen times by about seven different people.”

  What?

  “Cop chick—Stephanie—showed up just in time to witness the kid fall. She ran four of them over with her fuckin’ car,” Tommy Tom said.

  Who was he talking to? And Stephanie did what?

  “I’ll get Imogen. If he wakes up before we get back, tell him that we’ll get her.”

  Big Papa.

  “Got it,” Tommy Tom confirmed.

  A rather impressive bump that caused my head to jolt had me passing out again—with none of my questions answered.

  Though I guess that was to be expected when you couldn’t voice them.

  ***

  “…new face.” Somebody was saying. “Was able to smooth the skin out. Took away some of the scar tissue. He’ll have scars that run along his hairline, but other than that, it’ll be like this never even happened.”

  “He’ll know,” my mom replied quietly. “All he has to do is see that blemish free face and he’ll remember.”

  “Has he woken up yet?” Tommy Tom asked.

  I peeled my eyes open less than an inch, and immediately regretted it.

  “Fuck.”

  My voice came out rusty, flat, and raspy.

  “Don’t move, baby,” my mom said softly. “You’re okay. You’re in the hospital and just got out of surgery. No, don’t touch your face.”

  “Can’t see out of my right eye,” I told her, trying to lift my hand to touch my face again.

  She easily caught it and stopped me from moving it again by placing it against her cheek.

  “Do you know what happened, honey?” my mother asked.

  I opened my eye again, only to slam it back shut as the same thing happened all over again.

  “No,” I growled.

  “You were in a motorcycle accident,” Mom whispered.

  “I was?” I asked in surprise. “What happened?”

  This time when I went to open my eye, I was prepared by the shards of glass that felt like they were embedding themselves into my brain.

  The first thing I saw was my mother’s worried face, followed shortly by Tommy Tom’s equally worried one.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, ignoring my mother’s concerned stare.

  He looked sorrowful.

  “Imogen’s missing.”

  Those two words were enough to send an electric jolt to my soul.

  All previous sleepiness was washed away by a rush of adrenaline as it overtook my every nerve ending.

  “What happened?” I repeated, this time to Tommy Tom.

  “Gang war. You drove right into it. They were talking—saw you coming, recognized you, and immediately opened fire.”

  I closed my eyes and breathed out a shaky breath.

  “Do you know where she is?” I asked, lethargy trying to pull me under once again.

  “Not yet.”

  A nurse was standing by my bed, her hand on the IV.

  “What’d you give me,” I accused, slurring my words slightly.

  “A light pain med.”

  Tommy Tom snorted.

  “She gave you a bolus of the good stuff,” Tommy Tom countered. “You’ll be dead to the world for the next four hours. When you wake up, we’ll have her.”

  Sleep pulled me under, but not before I got three more words out of my mouth. “You fucking better.”

  They were true to their word, too.

  The only problem was that she came in the back of an ambulance—unresponsive.

  ***

  The next time I woke up it was to being moved. Again.

  This time I was aware of what the hell was going on, at least.

  “She back?” I asked, turning to find one of my brothers.

  “Freaks me the fuck out that your face is covered in gauze. Look away, for God’s sake,” Truth sniveled.

  I flipped him off, causing him to laugh.

  “She’s back, but…,” he hesitated.

  “But what?” I pushed.

  “Something was done to her. She was…I don’t know. Not right,” Truth expounded.

  Fury boiled in my blood.

  “Is she okay despite that?” I asked, trying to sit up.

  “Don’t sit up. You’ll break something, and then everyone will blame me.” Truth pushed me back down, causing me to wince. “Sorry.”

  My heart was beating a mile a minute.

  “Tell me,” I ordered.

  “She’s hurt. She has a couple of broken bones. She won’t be working on any cars anytime soon.” He cleared his throat. “She has a cut down her face. One straight down her left cheek. And she didn’t have any clothes on when we went in and got her.”

  He was trying to tell me that he thought she could’ve possibly been raped.

  My eyes closed as pain consumed me.

  “You don’t know that, though?” I asked, hope clinging to my voice.

  “No.” He shook his head. “We don’t know for sure yet. She hasn’t woken up.”

  I steeled myself, closing my eyes and battening down the hatches of my emotions.

  “Take me to her,” I ordered.

  He gave me a disgusted look.

  “Where do you think you are going right now?” he laughed.

  I flipped him off.

  “At least that finger isn’t broken,” he snorted.

  “Go check on my girl,” I rasped.

  “10-4.”

  With that, Truth left, and I was left wondering just what in the hell happened to Imogen to keep her from talking.

  And I could only think the worst.

  Chapter 19

  Today is day two of my diet. I’m still not skinny. I think I’ll have a cupcake. Diets are bullshit.

  -Imogen’s secret thoughts

  Imogen

  I’ve never been much of a violent person.

  In fact, when I was in the Marines, I was known as Mouse.

  I hated starting fights. I hated finishing fights (though I would if I needed) and I always rooted for the underdog.

  The minute I came to in a freakin’ white walled hellhole, I’d immediately tried to get out.

  Only problem was that getting out meant walking right into a room full of freakin’ gang members. Gang members that looked at me like I was fresh meat.

  The only thing that stopped them was they already had a play toy.

  Kellen.

  Kevin, the douche’s little brother. The kid that played with my nephew.

  “Don’t touch him!” I screamed the moment my eyes comprehended what they were seeing.

  And what I saw wasn’t good.

  It was so far from good that I didn’t think I’d ever be right again.

  I took two steps toward the downed boy, and found myself stopped short with an arm around my waist.

  “Chill, girl,” a man said at my back. “There’s plenty of us to go around.”

  The more I fought to get away from the man, the tighter he hung on.

  I fought, hit, hissed, screamed, clawed and bit all in an attempt to get to the kid who was still lying on the floor, but the man at my back continued to hold me immobile. Almost as if he were trying to save me from receiving the same beating and treatment as the kid had gotten sometime before I’d gotten there.

  “Why are you doing this?” I screamed, since it seemed my only viable option.

  My face was throbbing. My head felt like someone had taken a fist to it multiple times, and I was fairly sure I had a loose tooth, but I wasn’t going to contemplate that until the time was right.

  “He thought he could help you,” Kevin grinned. “Didn’t like seeing his friend’s aunt
locked up. Was caught. We wanted to see if he’d do his duty to the Hollows. Complete his task.”

  My stomach tightened.

  “But he failed, and now he’s going to be used as an example,” Kevin continued. “And how convenient that you’re awake. We’ll finish what we started with an audience. Then we’ll finish you off next.”

  The guy holding me hostage stiffened when Kevin went to reach for his brother, and he hissed in a breath.

  “The cops are outside,” the man at my back said.

  I turned, just now realizing that there was a window at my back, and surveyed the area.

  We were at my apartment complex. Just on the opposite side of my own apartment, and possible one floor up, but I couldn’t be for certain since it was on the back corner compared to mine on the front corner.

  But there were definitely no cops.

  “Two just entered the building. The car drove around to the front,” the man at my back continued to lie.

  Thoughts and emotions poured through my head.

  Did I have an ally? Would he help me if I tried to escape with the kid? Could I pick the kid up? I was five feet one, and that kid was at least five feet. Maybe I could carry him.

  Kevin hurried over to the window and peered outside, disgusted.

  “Fucking hell,” he growled. “Just when I thought we were going to be left alone for a few hours.” He turned and surveyed the room. “Y’all go. Take off your colors so they don’t arrest you. Come back in an hour if everything’s clear.”

  The men wearing their blue bandanas like flags around their heads stood, and started to head toward the door. Each one of them took the bandana off and shoved them in the back of their low riding jeans.

  They were all intimidating as hell, too.

  Most of them wore white t-shirts with their low hanging jeans, but some of them wore wife-beaters—which was apt for the situation.

  They all had tattoos, some of them with them on their faces and around their eyes.

  They weren’t bulky—not like Aaron or some of the other Rejects, as Aaron liked to call them—but the guns that I could see at the small of their backs were enough to make up for any shortcomings.

  “Rafe,” Kevin barked. “Put those two in the room. Make sure you gag ‘em so we don’t get any pigs in this apartment wondering what the hell that sound is.”

  Rafe—otherwise known as the guy at my back—nodded behind me and let go of me.

  The minute he did I sagged, legs tensing in preparation.

  One look at Rafe’s dark black eyes had me freezing in place.

  I wouldn’t run. Not yet. His eyes were lit with an inner fire that practically forced me to stay exactly where I was. I didn’t get a bad vibe off of him, though.

  Then, without another word, he walked out the door and I heard the lock click behind him.

  Son. Of. A. Bitch.

  I looked down at the boy at my side, and immediately felt bile rise to the surface.

  With trembling hands, I did what I could, and touched my cool hands to the kid’s beaten face.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered.

  I just hope what I’d told him was the truth.

  Then, with nothing else to do but sleep, I did.

  ***

  I opened my eyes to find Big Papa standing in front of Rafe.

  Big Papa held his hand out to Rafe.

  “Thanks for getting in there. Did you have any trouble infiltrating?” Big Papa asked.

  Rafe shook his head.

  “No. It was trivial at best. They’re amateurs compared to what I’ve tried to get into before,” Rafe promised.

  I found myself curious as to what he’d gotten into before that was worse than what he had been in. The Hollows were a freakin’ gang for crying out loud.

  “You were planted?” Truth asked in confusion. “When?”

  “Aaron,” Big Papa said simply. “They met while he was back in his old hometown. Kept his number in case he needed use of his services again.”

  I hugged the towel that was concealing my near nakedness, thankful that I no longer had to be in a bra and panties in front of this crowd, around me tighter at hearing Aaron’s name.

  Was he all right?

  The movement of my head caught Truth’s attention.

  “He’s all right,” Truth promised. “He’s got two broken collarbones, though, as well as a few gashes that they had to repair on his face and his knee.”

  My eyes closed, but I continued to say nothing.

  If I opened my mouth right then, I’d fall apart. And I didn’t want to do that in front of the guys.

  Didn’t want to put any more on their plates than was already there.

  “I’ll take her in. Get her checked out. Tommy Tom’s on shift, right?” Truth asked as he stood, causing the ambulance I was sitting in to shift.

  “Yes,” Sean said, making me turn my head. “He’s there. As is the rest of the club.”

  My eyes took in Sean.

  He was dressed in navy blue pants with this bright white stripe down the middle of the legs, and a navy blue shirt that distinguished him as a paramedic for Mooresville EMS.

  He looked haggard, though, as if he’d had a long night.

  “Did you take him in?” I whispered.

  Sean’s eyes came to me.

  “Yeah,” he confirmed.

  “Are you sure he’s okay?” I continued to whisper.

  Sean shrugged. “He will be.”

  I noticed he didn’t answer, but chose not to force him to elaborate.

  Instead, I just lay back on the stretcher, closed my eyes, and forced myself to appear asleep as Sean and Truth took me to the hospital.

  ***

  Hours later I found myself staring down at Aaron’s prone body.

  He looked bad.

  Beat up and defeated.

  I knew he wouldn’t be. I knew he’d wake up all growling and pissed off, but with his defenses down in his sleep, he appeared to be broken.

  With him hurt, though, I knew I couldn’t recruit him for what I was about to do.

  Hell, I might very well end up in jail after I did what I had to do, and that wasn’t going to look good if a police officer was privy to my musings before I actually committed the crime.

  So, in the only way I knew how, I backed out of the room and hurried down the side hall—away from the group of bikers I could hear talking just a short way down the hall.

  The first stop I made was to my dad’s place.

  He’d so nicely brought my sister’s car up to me, as long as I’d promised not to use it for the first twenty-four hours so that my headache and subsequent concussion had time to dissipate.

  I’d agreed, promising to stay with Aaron the entire time.

  Dad had taken me at my word and had taken Davis to visit Kellen, my mom and sisters choosing to make a cafeteria run since I’d not eaten in twenty-four hours.

  The second they’d left, I’d stood and watched Aaron, half hoping he’d wake up and dissuade me from following through with my foolhardy plan.

  But he didn’t, and now I was on my way to my dad’s house to acquire a gun.

  A gun that I knew for a fact to be unregistered with the serial numbers filed off.

  Being a Marine, I also knew how to clean the gun to make sure there were no fingerprints on the hunk of metal.

  If this was to be done right, I had to do it quick, fast, and smart.

  I’d been thinking about it all night.

  From the moment Rafe had shoved me into that room with a beaten and broken Kellen, I knew that I had to do something.

  And it’d been just my luck to find out that Kevin had escaped.

  Unlucky for him, and lucky for me, I knew where he was going.

  His brother had whispered the words to me as I’d slipped my shirt and capri pants on him.

  He’d told me everything I’d ever need to know
about Kevin, and I planned to use it to my advantage.

  The first step, though, was getting that gun.

  The one after that step was to shoot.

  Chapter 20

  Is there a mood for wanting to punch someone in the throat?

  -Imogen to Aaron

  Aaron

  I watched as she shot the man in the knee.

  I continued to watch as she kicked him, spat at him, and threatened him with bodily harm.

  What forced me to intervene, though, was the tear that slid down her cheek that she tried to suppress.

  She didn’t need that on her conscience.

  Not my sweet Imogen.

  Taking one painful step at a time, I made my way to her and cleared my throat.

  “That’s enough, baby,” I whispered.

  Her head whipped around, and she stared at me as tears slowly coursed down her face.

  “He raped his own brother,” she rasped. “Kellen told me everything as he cried in my arms. I couldn’t let him get away with that.”

  A surge of anger poured through me, and I looked down at the crying piece of shit on the floor with barely disguised rage.

  If I’d felt better, I would’ve joined in, but I was fairly sure if I tried to lift my leg in anything other than a step, I might fall down and not get back up again.

  “There are a few things you need to know about the prison system, honey,” I whispered, moving closer as if not to spook my emotional woman. “They don’t take kindly to rapists. It makes it ten times worse if it’s a child involved. Trust me, one word placed in the right ear will make his life a living hell, and he’ll spend the rest of his days paying for his mistake. And if he’s not paying, I’ll put another bug in someone else’s ear.”

  Her eyes closed.

  “I want to chop his dick off.” She choked on a cry, then threw herself at me.

  Pain rocked my body, but I lifted my arms anyway.

  Everything screamed in protest, but I couldn’t let her go through that alone. Not if it was within my power to block that pain.

  “How did you get here?” she whispered.

  I shifted my body—oh, so carefully—and pointed behind me.

  “Them.”

  My club.

  All of them stood at my back. Police officers. Paramedics. Doctors. Everyone.

  Though, I’d had to ride in my truck—a truck I hadn’t ridden in since the day Lynn had plowed into me—due to my injuries.