Jake walked over to the only window in the room, which had been painted over with black paint. He crouched down and looked out from the corner of the window where a chunk of glass was missing. “Scream,” he ordered, and so I did. When he was satisfied that Gus had left, he waved me off to stop.
When he came back over to me and leaned down with the drill still in his hand, I flinched and again tried to roll away, but he held me by my chin, ripping the spreader bar from my mouth. The fresh holes in the back of my jaw throbbed. My jaw ached. I spit blood onto the tarp when he sat me up.
Jake separated the chains of my cuffs with a pair of bolt cutters. “I don’t have the keys,” he explained.
“I can’t move my shoulders,” I said. “I think they’re dislocated. I don’t know how long I was hanging there.”
“This is going to hurt,” Jake said, crouching down behind me. Without warning he pushed my arms down and back. This time I didn’t need any prompting to scream. “Roll your shoulders,” he ordered.
I did as he said and instantly the pain started to subside. “How—” I started, but Jake shook his head.
“No time for questions. Here,” he said, handing me a bottle of vodka. “Swish this around in your mouth.”
The vodka burned as it entered the new gaping holes in the back of my mouth. I don’t know if he intended for me to spit it out or swallow it but I swallowed. “More,” he said, pushing the bottle back into my hand. I took another long pull and swished it around. It burned less the second time around.
Jake pulled out his phone and pressed a few buttons before shoving it back in his pocket. “We have to go. Now. Can you walk?”
“I’m not sure.”
“No time to figure it out,” Jake said, lifting me into his arms. “Stay quiet. I mean it. Not a sound.” He carried me effortlessly out the door and down a flight of steps. When he kicked open a back door, I’d never been so happy to be met with the wet heat of the stagnant night air. A black van was waiting.
A minivan.
The automatic door slid open as we approached. Jake set me across the middle row of seats. He pulled out his phone and pressed a number. “Fuck. Bear’s not answering.” He leaned into the van. “I’m going to the MC. Take her to King’s and don’t stop anywhere, you got it?”
“Who are you talking…?” I asked.
“He was talking to me,” a feminine voice said. A girl turned around in the driver’s seat. Long, straight, red hair framed her perfectly round, pale face. Both of her arms were heavily tattooed with colorful yet feminine colors, one arm rested over a hugely rounded pregnant belly. “I’m Abby.”
I groaned as I sat up. My head spun. I looked to Jake. “But I’m going with you, Jake. And we have to go now. Bear went to the MC. It’s a trap,” I said as my adrenaline started to take over, muting the pain in my arms. There were more pressing matters than pain.
“No,” Jake said simply, and started to walk away.
“Wait!” I said, but it didn’t matter what I said because he wasn’t coming back.
“Jake?” Abby called out, and immediately Jake circled back and ducked his head inside the van. “My water sort of just broke.”
After those words I ceased to exist.
Jake jogged over to the driver’s side and much to my surprise he lifted Abby out of the van and carried her over to his bike, setting her down on the seat and getting on behind her. “Take the van,” Abby called out to me with a calm smile. Jake muffled her words by setting his helmet on her head, and she rolled her eyes and laughed. He started the engine and tossed me a gun. With one hand on the handlebars and one hand on Abby’s belly, they took off.
There wasn’t a second to waste. God only knew what the hell Gus was up to or why, all I knew was that I had to get to Bear before Chop or Gus did.
Our story, it wasn’t over yet.
It couldn’t be.
I’d come so far.
Bear had come so far.
We’d both been through so much.
Too much.
We deserved our chance at life. At love. At figuring out what any of this meant.
It was far from a romance.
But it was still a love story.
And it was ours.
I was going to stop at nothing until we had our happy ending.
I used the cell phone sitting in the center console to call Bear, but just like when Jake tried earlier there was no answer. I ended the call and made one more as I drove to the MC at breakneck speed. There wasn’t anyone or anything in this world that was going to keep us apart, including the chained gate at the entrance of the MC, which is why I slammed my foot down on the gas pedal…and drove right through it.
I wasn’t about to let Bear die.
He’d lost everything.
I wouldn’t let him lose his life.
I was crazy. I was reckless.
I was free.
And I was going to get my biker…or die trying.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Bear
The plan was simple. We’d hop the back fence and once inside, we’d spread out and search for Ti. “If anyone tries to prevent you from getting to her, pull the fucking trigger, we don’t have time for hesitation,” I ordered. Munch would stand guard by the ladder while Stone and Wolf swept the first floor, leaving King and I to split the second.
I wasn’t halfway up the steps when the alarm went off along with the first sounds of gunfire, but I didn’t stop. There was one place I was going to search first because somehow, I knew that the motherfucker would be there, and he was there, chances were that Ti was there too.
“I wish I could say it was good to see you, son,” Chop said after I kicked down the door to his office.
“Don’t fucking ‘son’ me, you cocksucker,” I warned. “Where the fuck is she?” I held my gun on him and rounded the desk, pulling out the gun he kept hidden underneath, tossing it to the couch on the far side of the room.
“You’re gonna to have to be more specific than that,” Chop sang, turning around in his chair to face me. It had been a long time since I’d seen him and the only thing that had changed was that his belly had grown a little larger and the bags under his eyes were so dark it looked as if he had gotten into a fight and had two black eyes. “’Cause, as you know, we’ve got a lot of bitches around here.” He laughed. “Well, had.”
I would of ended him right then and there if I didn’t need him to tell me where Ti was. Instead I settled for hitting him on the side of the head with the butt of my gun. “You sick fuck! Don’t fuck with me, old man. The only way you prolong your fucked up life is to tell me where the fuck she is right now or it’s motherfucking lights out.”
Chop rubbed the side of his head where a knot had already started to form. “Aaaahhh, the girl? Is that who you’re looking for?” he asked. “She probably realized she’s too young and pretty for you and ran away. Really, she’s too fucking innocent to be all dirtied up by a son of a bitch like you.” He leaned back and rested his hands behind his head, his elbows high in the air. “My time with her was short, as well. We were going to have so much fun playing together before we were so rudely interrupted by whoever you sent to bomb me the fuck out.”
Gus had done that on his own but I wasn’t out to correct him, there was no time. I pressed the barrel of my gun into his forehead, and growled, “Where the fuck is she?”
“Do it,” Chop said, pushing his head forward against my gun. “Go ahead and do it, you ungrateful little cunt. I gave you everything. Everything I had was yours, but it wasn’t enough for you, was it? Now you show up here with the other fucking traders and expect me to what? Roll over? If that’s what you want then pull that fucking trigger, boy, because it’s not going to fucking happen!” His face reddened, saliva flew from his mouth.
I shook my head. “What is it that you think you’ve given me, old man? ’Cause you haven’t given me shit. Nothing. Not a childhood. Not a family. NOTHING.”
Chop poin
ted at me. “That’s where you’re wrong, boy. I’ve given you everything I ever had to give. This club? This was for you. The gavel was for you. The power was for you. You were born to be a Bastard, but it wasn’t enough for you. Your brothers weren’t enough for you.” He pointed to himself. “I wasn’t enough for you.”
“You’re right, you weren’t enough for me. I needed a dad not a fucking Prez.” I paused, the idea that he gave me everything was so ludicrous that I laughed. “I don’t know what part of history you’ve decided to rewrite in that demented fucked up head of yours, Chop, but let me remind you of what you’ve taken from me, starting with my mother.” I neglected to mention the fact that I knew she was alive.
Chops shoulders shook and I answered his laugh with a kick to his shins. He paused, his eyes narrowed. “It doesn’t matter what I did to that cunt of a mother of yours. You seem to think I was so horrible to you growing up but I never had the heart to tell you who she really was.” Chops jaw ticked. “She was a fucking RAT.”
I rolled my eyes over whatever game he way playing at. “Bullshit. You were just pissed she was—”
“Because she was trying to take you away from me,” Chop finished for me, looking amused that he knew exactly what I was going to say. “If that was the case, she would have felt my wrath. I know that killing women and kids is against code, but killing a woman who’s a rat? Well, that’s not exactly frowned upon,” Chop said.
I scoffed. “You’ve probably said that same line over and over again that I really think you believe your own fucking lies, old man. But here’s the problem with your lies. We both know that my mom wasn’t the rat.” I paused and made sure his eyes were on mine when I added. “And we both know she’s alive.”
“What the fuck do you know about that?” Chop said, abruptly standing up.
“Easy, old man,” I said, nudging him back down into his chair with my foot on his chest. His mask temporarily fell from his face, and for a second, I could have sworn he looked, concerned? Sad? Whatever it was, it was something I’d never seen from him before. “I don’t need to here more of your bullshit anyway. I didn’t’ come her for a fucking reunion or a nice chat with Daddy.” I cocked the gun. “Just tell me where the girl is,” I said through my teeth.
Chop twiddled his thumbs. “Son, if I had her, don’t you think I would have delivered her fingers and ears to you in a fucking box by now?” The gunfire outside the office grew louder.
Closer.
Apparently Chop didn’t get the message that it wasn’t fucking story time. “You were five years old,” he said, pouring himself a glass of whiskey from the bottle on his messy desk. His eyes were fixed on the glass as he spoke. “Your mom was acting fidgety. Had been for a while. Should have suspected something sooner, but believe it or not, I loved that stupid bitch. Gave her an old lady’s cut. Even gave up other pussy for her.” He finished his drink in one swig and set down the glass. “She was family, and almost as much of a Bastard as I was. She loved the life, or at least I thought she did.” Chop looked back to me. “But then she started asking questions. Questions about meetings. Money. Where it came from, where it was going. Things old ladies didn’t need to know shit about. I didn’t even think anything of it for a while. She was always more involved than the other bitches who hung around. She was smart too, so I never thought she’d actually be dumb enough to cross me.” I’d never heard Chop talk about my mom. Not since the night in the woods.
Not once.
Chop rested his hands on his desk and looked absently at the door. “Guys started to go down for shit we’d never had heat about before. We owned the fucking law but the county sheriff was suddenly all over our asses. I wised up. Hurt like fucking hell, but I tested her. Leaked something to her, something I made up. Told her that we were making a gun run. Told her the when and where and what route we were taking. I went with Tank and a few of the other boys who weren’t on probation. When we got there, no one was there. No FBI no ATF. I was so relieved and so fucking happy. Waited a full hour just to be sure.” He poured himself another glass, emptying the bottle and downing it faster than the first. “Came to the conclusion that it was all in my head. Convinced myself that we’d just been unlucky.” Chop slammed his fist on the desk. “It wasn’t until we were pulling out that the ATF swarmed the van.”
Chop laughed, but in a way that told me he didn’t find shit funny about what he was saying. He cracked his knuckles. “The only good thing about that night was the look on the ATF’s faces when they opened the doors and only found a bunch of bicycles we had fixed up to donate to the Y.”
I stood over him, searching his face for any traces that he could be lying. “That’s not true,” I said, although something deep in my gut told me it was.
Chop reached over to the shelf behind his desk and I cocked my gun. “Just getting a drink, son.” He grabbed a fresh bottle of Jack and poured himself a glass. He tipped it back and downed the entire glass in one swallow. “If you’re going to blow my fucking head off, I at least want a last drink.” He slid a cigarette from the open pack on his desk and lit one. “And a smoke.”
“You’ve got three fucking seconds before lights out. I’m done playing your games. We do this my way. Tell me where Thia is or I’m pulling the fucking trigger.” My jaw was clenched so tight it hurt. My anger solely focused on Chop.
Chop threw his hands in the air. “You know what? I wish I had her, but I don’t. I wish I could have finished what I started and show you what real hurt feels like. Betrayal. It broke my heart when I found out your mother was a rat, but not nearly as much as when I found out that you were just like her. Like mother like son. Dirty. Fucking. Rats,” he hissed.
I scrunched my face. “What the fuck are you talking about, old man?”
Chops lip raised in a snarl. “You’re more fucked up in the head than I am if you really thought that I wouldn’t find out what you and King and that Preppy kid were up to. Well, guess again, because I have eyes and ears everywhere. We started taking more heat again, losing runs, losing work. It was like the shit with your mother all over again. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together.”
“I never betrayed the club. Not fucking once. Not fucking ever,” I seethed.
Chop rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. But you know? I didn’t believe it either at first. Don’t you see what I was doing? I was giving you another chance. I was giving you one more shot to prove to me that you weren’t the dirty fucking rat I thought you were, and just like your mother, you disappointed me. You chose them over us. You chose going off on your own over your club and turned your back on me.” He finished his glass again and slammed it down on the table, the bottom of the glass cracked, a crooked line snaked up the side. “If Gus hadn’t told me what he saw? What he’d heard? What you had confided in him? I would have never believed it. I’d still be searching for the rat to this day. But lookey here,” he said, staring up at me. “I don’t have to search anymore. ’Cause the rat is right in fucking front of me.”
“What the fuck did you say?” I asked, his words still ringing in my brain. It didn’t make sense, but it wasn’t until he mentioned Gus that I started to piece it together. “Who told you I was a rat?”
He raised his eyebrows. I stayed still as stone, fearful that if I moved it would be my trigger finger first. “Gus. Surprised, eh? Thought he was loyal to you because you didn’t pop him in the head when you had a chance? Guess again. That little fucker was more loyal to me than you would ever be, and you think that—”
“Chop!” I shouted, but he wasn’t listening.
“You are owed everything you selfish—”
“Chop!” I shouted again, getting his attention. He finally paused long enough for me to get a word in. “Gus. When the shit went down with Isaac here, when he killed Preppy, I knew someone on the inside had to have leaked that information.”
Chop shrugged like what I was telling him wasn’t new information. “It was me. I didn’t want the brothers to know outr
ight that I was taking you out. Thought I’d kill three birds with one stone.” He smiled. “Literally.”
Hearing him admit to what I already knew didn’t make me any less pissed about it. “I already knew it was you because—” I started, with Chop finally cluing in.
“Gus,” he said, sitting straight up as the realization hit him that we’d both been crossed by the same brother.
A voice boomed from the doorway. “It’s so nice that you two are talking about me.” He looked at me, his semi-automatic at my head. “Put your fucking gun down.” I reluctantly tossed my gun to the floor, half hoping it would go off and kill the motherfucker, but no such luck.
“Glad to hear you two fucking idiots finally figured it out.” He looked right at me when he said, “I was kind of hoping you’d kill your old man before you put it all together. But, oh well. That can be fixed.”
“You little shit,” Chop said, standing up from his chair.
Gus gritted his teeth and switched his aim from me to Chop. “I really fucking hate it when you call me that!” Gus roared, tapping the barrel of his gun on top of his head before pointing it back toward us. “And I’ve been good. So, so good. But I’m done being good. I’m done being your bitch. I can’t wait to take you apart piece by piece, just like she said I could. I can do whatever I want, because you’re mine. You both are. You’re my gifts from her.” Gus said, with a huge manic smile on his face.
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “I spared your life and took you in, and this is how you fucking thank me?” I asked my one-time protégé. “I should have pulled the fucking trigger when I had the chance.”
Gus took another step into the room. “Yeah, but you didn’t.”
“Who the fuck are you talking about, boy?” Chop chimed in. “Who the fuck is she?” I already knew who he was talking about and I had a feeling Chop did too.
“He’s talking about me,” said a feminine voice. The clank of heels against the concrete echoed in the hall until she appeared in the doorway.
Soulless (Lawless #2) Page 18