Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 2: Gage ~ Cash ~ Knight (Vengeance MC series Book 8)

by Natasha Thomas

  Cooper is a fucking idiot for cheating on Zara, but he’s not stupid enough to look a gift horse in the mouth when it comes to his safety. Chase isn’t known for extending warnings, so he should consider himself lucky he’s been given this long.

  “I always knew Zara was fucking crazy; she just got good at hiding it. Nice to see that in the end, I was right. Coming from a family like this, she couldn’t have turned out any other way,” Cooper sneers in parting.

  All of us watch as he storms out the door, slamming it behind him. Chase looks out the window, I assume to check that he’s not hanging around, then pulls his cell out of his pocket and dials.

  “You’re up. It goes down exactly like I told you. Do not fucking deviate from the plan, and check in when it’s done,” Chase orders, hanging up as soon as he issues his command.

  Turning to me, Chase looks me up and down. He’s assessing where my head’s at. Obviously reassured by what he sees, Chase nods once, saying,

  “Zara and Mia are in Vegas; checked into Planet Hollywood three nights ago under the alias, Stargazer Moonflower. My girl knew I’d track her down so she decided to fuck with me, which doesn’t surprise me seeing as she’s pissed as hell that her back is up against the wall on this one.”

  “Stargazer Moonflower. Jesus, what the fuck?” Nate smiles, barely stifling a chuckle.

  Chase shakes his head, answering shortly,

  “Stripper I used to date before I married Ashleigh. How the kid remembers her name is beyond me?”

  “Mighty fine looking woman that one,” Pop interjects. “Pity she was dumb as a box of hammers and crazy to boot.”

  “Reservation is for ten days. My man on the ground says they haven’t left the hotel other than to walk the strip twice, see the sights, and catch a show. The problem is, my girl is too clever for her own good. As soon as Zara spots, Conway, she’ll take off.”

  “Does she know him? Could she pick him out of a crowd?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” Chase nods. “Conway’s been around, albeit not regularly since she was just a baby. He’s a good man and really fucking good at what he does. Conway’s been working personal security to the stars for the last few years and has the next month off, so I called in a favor.”

  This time, it’s Locke’s turn to ask,

  “So there’s a decent chance she won’t spot him then?”

  Chase scoffs,

  “I didn’t say that. Conway might be one of the best, but Zara’s my girl. I taught her everything I know from the time she could walk. That kid can take down a man twice her size, hit center mass from seven-hundred feet away, and spot a tail with her eyes closed drunk off her ass. Honestly, I’m fucking surprised she hasn’t invited Conway to join her and Mia for margaritas poolside yet. But to answer your question, son there’s not a hope in hell your sister won’t make him; it’s only a matter of when not if.”

  “How long have I got?” I question, mentally calculating the time it will take me to drive to Denver, hop a flight, and then rent a car at the other end.

  Pop drawls,

  “Oh, probably, eight hours. Give or take.”

  “You good to watch the gym?” I look at Locke and say rather than ask.

  “You’re not going anywhere until you and I clear a few things up,” Chase remarks calmly, resuming his position against the wall.

  Not willing to risk Zara disappearing on me – again – I answer his questions before he can ask them, giving him the cliff notes version to speed things along.

  “Zara knows about Dark Knights, thanks to Pop. She also knew Locke had something to do with it before she came to me and started asking questions. I didn’t push her into signing her share over; I offered to buy her out, that’s it. A couple of weeks later, her lawyer delivered signed ‘Transfer of Ownership’ papers, listing Locke as the primary shareholder of her stake unless Nate was interested too. In the event he was, Zara outlined that they were to split it, twenty-five percent going to Locke, and twenty-four to Nate. I tried to deposit the buyout figure into her account twice, both times the transaction failed. The bank told me, Zara closed her checking account the same day the papers were delivered to me at the gym. Talking to her about it wasn’t an option, either, seeing as she took that contract with Brent and left without telling me. It took a week to sort my shit out so that I could go after her. I spoke to Locke and Nate, told them I wouldn’t be available to see clients anymore, and spent the rest of the time finalizing the arrangements for me to become somewhat of an active silent partner. I’ll be doing admin, taking care of the finances, scheduling, that sort of shit. That’s what I was in the middle of explaining to Zara when I got a call from, Jonas, telling me to get my ass to Furnace. Evidently, Zara didn’t hang around to finish hearing me out of we wouldn’t be here right now.”

  In my peripheral vision, I can see Nate smiling broadly, Locke silently mulling my words over, and Pop grinning, but it’s Chase I’m focused on. He’s watching me intently, gauging and weighing every word, looking for the barest hint on a lie. But he won’t find one because when it comes to, Zara, I’m done hiding. I’m done lying to myself and everyone else about how I feel and what I want.

  “I should be saying this to Zara first, but she’s not here, and you are. I love your daughter, Chase. I have for a fuck of a long time. Truthfully, longer than I’ve had the right to, considering I was married. It’s no secret, Lena and I are finished, have been for a while, but that’s not why I’m going after, Zara,” I admit.

  And it’s not. This, the chemistry, the connection between us has been building for a long time. It was inevitable we’d act on it eventually, and that day has finally come whether Chase or anyone else accepts it or not.

  “Sure seems like it, Knight,” Chase observes gruffly. “The way I see it, you’re divorced, lonely, and since Zara’s been in love with you for years that makes her an easy mark; perfect for a rebound fling. Especially for a man like you.”

  He’s testing me; I know he is. He has to be because out of anyone, Chase knows me. He’s seen me at my best and worst, and everything in between. I might be an asshole to everyone else, but not to Zara. Never her. Firing her daily, our verbal sparring matches, and difference of opinions aside, I have the utmost respect for his daughter. I fucking adore her.

  “We could go around in circles about it, but that’s only going to delay me getting to Zara. Because mark me, Chase; I am going to Vegas. I’m going to find Zara and prove that I can be the man she needs, then if everything goes to plan, I’m going to convince her to marry me. It’s up to you whether you fly out with Ashleigh so that you can walk Zara down the aisle and give her away, but regardless of your decision, it’s happening. With or without your blessing,” I state resolutely.

  Nate attempts to break the tension by snorting,

  “So what? Your only brother’s not invited to your wedding?”

  Ignoring him, Chase approaches me slowly. When he’s standing right in front of me – toe to toe – he grabs me in a bear hug. Slapping my back several times, Chase tips his head toward the stairs.

  “You best get packed then, son. You leave on a four o’clock flight out of DIA. Conway will be waiting at the other end to pick you up.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  ~ Zara ~

  “Good morning assholes! Your favorite little ray of sunshine has arrived.”

  – Zara to her brothers

  “Do you think it’s possible to be too relaxed?” Mia remarks, not taking her eyes off the magazine spread across her lap.

  We’ve been in Las Vegas for three days, and after driving almost non-stop from Iowa – only stopping to catch a couple of hours sleep on the side of the road – I’ve never been happier than when I finally fell onto the luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets that cover a real honest to God bed. It’s the little things you miss when you’re on a road trip…like a decent fucking mattress.

  Studying the figure partially obscured by a large potted palm, I motion a poolside waiter over.


  “Can you please send a virgin Shirley Temple over to the man dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt at my two o’clock?”

  “Of course, Miss,” the cute twenty-something waiter nods while his eyes roam over my barely contained boobs. Dammit. I knew this bikini was a bad idea. “Will there be anything else?”

  I shake my head, wishing I had a cover-up or something with me.

  “No. Just tell him I said he would have been better off behind the pillar at my five o’clock. He’ll understand what you mean,” I add when the pervy-waiter guy looks at me confused.

  Mia waits until said creeper leaves, then quips,

  “Um, what the crap was that all about? Everything okay?”

  “Yep,” I grin, popping the P. “Everything’s great. Have you decided what you want to do with the rest of the day yet?”

  Readjusting her equally skimpy bikini top, that no word of a lie only covers half of Mia’s generous chest, a gravelly voice from behind her sun lounge drawls,

  “She’s gonna be busy for the rest of the day, so I recommend you find something to do that doesn’t include her.”

  Mia looks shocked to see Jump. I, on the other hand, expected he’d be here far sooner. No doubt my dad told him where we were and how to find us, but even if he didn’t, Jump would have been able to get the information easily enough.

  Sly, Vengeance MC’s Intelligence Officer or whatever he’s called can find out pretty much anything. I’ve only met him twice, once at a cookout and the other at Glacier. Six beers in, and Sly was all too happy to share his entire life story. Three sheets to the wind, I don’t think it would have mattered who he was talking to, but fortunately, for him, it was me sitting on the bar stool next to him because I know how to keep a secret.

  Apparently, before joining Vengeance Sly was in his second year at MIT, studying for his MBA in advanced computer science. His parents are beyond wealthy, and Sly, A.K.A Samuel Taylor the Third was expected to take his rightful position as head of his family’s vast holding when his father retired. Everything Sly did was out of duty and responsibility to his parents and their family name. Quite honestly, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see Sly didn’t want a bar of it, and from what he told me, he didn’t then either.

  Sly’s talents don’t include running a multinational, multi-billion dollar corporation. Although I honestly believe if he put his mind to it, he could, and Sly would be wildly successful at it just like he is with everything else he puts his mind to. However, much to his parents’ disgust and disappointment, Sly was never going to be that man. The man who dons a suit and tie, commanding a boardroom of executives every day while sitting on piles of money eating Bon Bons.

  Sly’s forte is finding backdoors through a rat maze of firewalls so that he can hack into encrypted databases only the most senior government officials have access to. Now, I can’t say that I have the first clue what any of that means, but if the gleam in his eyes when he talks about his work, is anything to go by, then Sly genuinely loves what he does.

  Smiling to myself, I watch as Jump takes Mia’s hand, pulling her along behind him while she argues with him every step of the way. Good for you girl. Give him hell. As far as Scarlet and I are concerned, Jump deserves to work for Mia’s attention after spending months shutting her out of his life.

  I’ve known since the day I saw Jump watching Mia when he thought no one was looking, that he was trying hard to disguise his interest in her. It was only a matter of time before, Jump finally stepped up to the plate and did something about it. Not to mention, I may or may not have intentionally given him a little extra motivation to make his move sooner rather than later.

  Two days ago while Mia was taking a shower before we went out to dinner, I text Kennedy, Cash’s wife, and Jump’s sister-in-law. She had called several times to make sure we were okay and didn’t need anything, but had promised to keep our whereabouts to herself as long as we continued to check in with her at least once a day. So, of course, I knew what I was doing when I sent the picture message to Kennedy. I knew Jump was with her and would see it; that after all was the idea.

  At this point, I’m just so sick of men who can’t see what’s right in front of them, staring them in the face. I’ve been there done that with Knight, so if I can save Mia from having to wait and wonder if he’s eventually going to do anything about the attraction, I know they both feel, I will.

  “When did you clock me?” Conway asks, sitting down on Mia’s recently vacated sun lounger.

  “When we came down for dinner half an hour after check in,” I shrug and Conway chuckles, reminding me just how much I’ve missed him.

  He used to be around a lot more when I was younger. Conway is one of my dad’s two best friends, Malakai, Lower Falls chief of police being the other. The three of them grew up together, and had permanent seats at our dinner table until Conway up and disappeared just after I started high school.

  I remember asking dad where Conway was for months before dad told me it was classified and he couldn’t share the details of his assignment. At the time, I assumed Conway was working undercover for the police or FBI, and that was why my dad couldn’t say anything. But I was wrong.

  Last year, I overheard dad talking to Conway on the phone about his most recent job that had gone horribly wrong, causing a woman he cared deeply about to be hurt. I only heard bits and pieces of their conversation, but enough to learn that the man I’ve called Uncle Con since I could talk isn’t in fact an officer of the law but a mercenary. A hired gun. A hitman for hire.

  “Your dad taught you well,” he grins, shifting until he’s reclined against the backrest with his big booted feet crossed at the ankles.

  “Some things you just can’t unlearn,” I mutter needlessly in reply.

  Conway hasn’t changed a bit in the last ten years. He’s still as bulky as he’s ever been, if not more so. At six-foot-seven and over two-hundred and fifty pounds, Conway’s ability to become a ghost when he needs to has always surprised me. But I suppose, in the life of a mercenary, silent and deadly is the name of the game.

  “If you clocked me, then I can only assume you clocked the other guy that’s been staring at you for the last hour too?” Conway enquires, causing my brow to furrow in confusion.

  “What guy?” I ask, discreetly glancing over my left shoulder to scan the pool area.

  “Eleven o’clock between the two palm trees. Jeans, boots, gray T-shirt. He’s been standing there almost the whole time you’ve been out here. Hadn’t moved a muscle until he saw me sit down, now he looks like he wants to tear my fucking throat out,” Conway smirks.

  Surreptitiously I allow my gaze to wander in that direction, spotting the man Conway is talking about immediately. Oh fuck my life, I sigh.

  “Any chance you feel like playing my pretend boyfriend until I work out how to ditch him,” I all but plead.

  “Not a one,” Conway returns.

  “Fine,” I huff. “If you’re not willing to take one for the team, then what’s your exit strategy? You of all people don’t do anything unless you’ve got a backup plan and way to escape, so out with it.”

  Conway has the decency to look guilty, but not enough to answer my question.

  “You’re not scared are you, Zara? The girl I know isn’t afraid of anything, least of all some guy who poses no threat.”

  “I’m not scared,” I insist, glaring at him for good measure. “I’m fucking terrified. And for your information, I have plenty of reasons to be. Want me to list them all?”

  Throwing his head back, Conway lets out a deep belly laugh.

  “No, sweetheart, that won’t be necessary. Your dad filled me in on what’s going on, so I already know about your boyfriend dramas.”

  “He’s not my freaking boyfriend, douche canoe,” I snap.

  “Okay, calm down. If he’s not your man, then what’s he doing in Vegas, over a thousand miles from home watching you like a hawk and looks like he’s going to fuck me up for e
ven talking to you?”

  “Uh, because Knight’s a crazy stalker who is quite possibly clinically insane, and is incapable of taking no for an answer,” I reply, cocking an eyebrow at him.

  Crossing his arms over his chest, Conway gives me a hard stare.

  “Doubt it. That man isn’t crazy, darlin’. Possessive, jealous, and territorial maybe, but not crazy.”

  Shrugging off his comment, I offer,

  “We’ll just have to agree to disagree then. So, aside from taking in the sights, catching some rays, and snooping for my dad, what brings you here?”

  “Answered your own question, Zara. I’m here to keep an eye on you, but since it looks like you’ve got two perfectly good ones already trained on your every move, I’d say my job here is done. I’ll call Chase when I get back to my hotel and let him know you’re good, then I’m flying out to Cali.”