Road to Grace (Dogs of Fire Book 8)

by Piper Davenport

  “Which is what exactly?” I asked.

  “An encryption key,” Booker said.

  “Isn’t that your job? To break into places that need keys? Why don’t you just hack in?” I asked.

  “I fuckin’ hate Hollywood. They’ve set such unrealistic expectations,” Booker grumbled. “Hacking isn’t a matter of performing a couple of key strokes and mouse clicks like you see in the movies. To access the meta-data which contains the sub-coded information we need to prove Hatch’s innocence, I need a unique key code. This is because whoever hacked into Hatch’s computer to plant that phony search history and various bomb schematics, covered their tracks with a scorched earth trojan.”

  “I thought you covered up with a trojan to prevent scorched earth,” Mack said to zero laughs, although the attempt to lighten the mood was appreciated.

  Booker continued, “If I try to access the meta-data with the wrong code, even once, all of the data will become instantly and irreversibly corrupted. We have to get the code from Kitty himself, and we have to be one-hundred percent sure that it’s not a decoy, or else Hatch’s evidence is up in smoke.”

  “Jax, why can’t you and your fed crew deal?” I asked, then turned to Booker before Jaxon could answer. “Why aren’t we turning everything we’ve found over to the United States geek patrol and let them track down Kitty themselves?”

  Booker glanced at Jaxon, then back to me. “Because, if I know Kitty, the moment the FBI starts poking around too deep, he’s going to fry the data remotely. He wants them to see what he has right now, but should they begin to question the validity of the files, he’ll burn it all down.”

  “What about the video footage? How in the hell did Kitty, let alone any hacker, pull that shit off?”

  “I think Los Psychos handled that end of the job, and I think it was quite simple. All they had to do was take someone with the same height and build as Hatch and dress him up in a wig, a beard, and a cut. Once disguised, all he had to do was purchase the supplies, and make sure he was seen on camera. The same goes for the red-light cam. If he was driving the same model truck as Hatch, they could have easily put a fake license plate on it without getting pulled over, if they only had to drive long enough to run a red.”

  “Why take this big of a risk just to get back at Hatch?” Finch asked. “You said yourself that hackers don’t usually do things that will knowingly involve the feds. Not to mention, both Kitty or Los Psychos could easily just kill Hatch if they really wanted revenge.”

  “Because they don’t want Hatch dead. They want to do to him what he did to them. To exile him. To banish him from Portland; far away from his club. They know that in this day and age, framing someone for a bomb threat is the ultimate form of swatting. Except, he’ll be in Guantanamo Bay for six months before they even start figuring out what the fuck happened here.”

  Jaxon coughed. “Look, I’m on your side here, but I’d like to think that the FBI is better at our jobs than that—”

  “Sorry Jax, no offense, but it’s like Booker said, we’re running out of time before Kitty knows we’re onto him. He could fry the data or set up some new firewall before we have the chance to grab him,” Crow said. “If the FBI gets to him first, there’s no telling how this thing goes for Hatch.”

  “What exactly are Minus and the Saints gonna do with Kitty if they do find him?” I asked. “We’re not about to Guantanamo on this guy ourselves, are we?”

  Crow’s features became more severe. “Our hands won’t have blood on them.”

  “But Minus’s will, at your behest? Jesus, Crow, is that what we’re about now? I thought Minus was trying to turn his club around and that you were supposed to be his President Miyagi or some shit,” I said.

  “Careful,” Crow growled. “I’ll do what I have to do to protect Hatch, and you’ll stand by whatever the fuck I tell you to.”

  I looked at Jaxon. “I’m surprised you’re okay with this. Maybe the FBI really do get off on torturing people.”

  Crow walked to where I stood, and leaned in to whisper, “Take a knee,” before hitting me with a stiff shot to the solar plexus. The old man could hit, that’s for damned sure. I’d lost all my wind and dropped straight to the floor instantly.

  “That’s enough fucking questions!” Crow shouted. “While I share Flea’s passion for upholding our club’s code of conduct and appreciate his willingness to bark at the big dog in the name of defending it, this move is not up for debate. The wheels are in motion and I’m awaiting an update from Minus. I don’t want blood on anyone’s hands, but I don’t see Kitty going down without one hell of a fight. The Burning Saints want out of the bone breaking business, and they know not to get carried away. I trust them. Hatch is Minus’s family after all.”

  I fuckin’ hoped he was right.

  Grace

  AT ALMOST SIX that evening, I headed for my locker. It had been a full day of tours, forms, and general company information that I’m sure I’d forget before my first glass of wine tonight.

  I retrieved my phone and saw that I’d missed a call from Flea… he’d left a voicemail, but I was still bummed I couldn’t speak to him in real time.

  “Hey, baby, somethin’s come up, so I won’t be at your Grams tonight. I’ll try to call or text when I get a minute. Love you.”

  I saved the message then pulled up my messages.

  Me: Whatever you’re doing, be safe. I love you.

  A few seconds later, I saw the three dots, and bit my lip.

  Fleabio: Always safe. Good day?

  Me: It was a day without you, how good could it be?

  Fleabio: What time are you finished?

  Me: Now. I’m leaving in five.

  Fleabio: Text me when you’re home.

  I grinned.

  Me: Yes, sir. I live to please.

  Fleabio: I think yes, sir needs to be part of our f***ing time.

  Me: LOL. Keep dreaming.

  Fleabio: Gotta go, baby.

  Me: Love you.

  He sent me the emoji blowing a kiss and I dropped my phone back in my bag.

  “Grace,” Remi said, rushing into the locker room. “Vitaly is looking for you.”

  “Ah, okay.”

  “He’s in the big room.”

  I nodded, shoving my bag back into my locker and heading down to the largest rehearsal room. Vitaly was stretching at the barre.

  “Um, hi.”

  He straightened and frowned. “You are not dressed.”

  “For what?”

  “Class.”

  “I have a class?”

  “Da.”

  Shit, I didn’t get the memo. Good first impression, Grace.

  I nodded over my shoulder. “I have a change of clothes in my locker.”

  “Shoes?”

  “Yes, I have shoes.”

  “Go change. Quickly.”

  I nodded and headed back to the locker room, dragging on tights and a leotard faster than I ever had. I rushed back and secured my pointe shoes, then started my stretch.

  For the next three hours, Vitaly worked me harder than I’d ever been worked. Even Cassidy had nothing on this man. My legs were like jelly when Vitaly finally put an end to my suffering.

  “Excellent, Grace.”

  I grinned, flopping onto the floor and removing my shoes. “You may have killed me.”

  He chuckled. “Then it will all be worth it.”

  “Sadist.”

  “You have no idea.” He grinned. “Go, rest. We’ll do this again on Wednesday.”

  I nodded and headed to the locker room, changing quickly, then walking out to my car.

  “Goddammit, Grace,” an angry voice growled.

  I spun to see Flea stalking toward me and frowned. “What are you doing here?”

  “I have been texting you for two hours. Your brother and your grandmother had no fuckin’ clue where you were, so I came here to see if your car was still here.”

  “Oh, shit,” I breathed out. “I’m so sor
ry. Vitaly had a class and I didn’t know about it, so I had to change quickly, and I totally forgot to text anyone.”

  He pulled me against him. “Don’t do that again.”

  I dropped my head back and met his eyes. “Did you really just drive all the way down here because you were worried?”

  “Are you really surprised?”

  “Yes.” I cocked my head. “You have a lot on your plate. You could have pinged my phone.”

  He sighed. “I did ping your phone. It’s how I knew you were here.”

  I bit my lip. “I’m really sorry, honey, seriously.”

  I took a few minutes to call my brother who let Grams know I was perfectly safe, then dropped my phone back in my bag. I was going to need to have a little conversation with my family and adjust expectations.

  Flea kissed me gently, taking my bag off my shoulder. “You didn’t promise not to do that again, Grace. Need you to say the words.”

  “I can promise I will do my best. I should have texted, but the class was last-minute, and that might happen again, Fleabio, so, no I can’t promise not to forget to call or text. But I will do my best in the future.” I gripped his cut and smiled up at him. “I’m not used to having someone worry about me.”

  “Wrap your head around it, Grace.”

  “Is that your attempt at being bossy?” He raised an eyebrow and I stood on my tiptoes to kiss him. “For the record, I like you bossy.”

  “Wish I had time to take you back to my place and show you just how bossy I can be.”

  I shivered. “Me too.”

  “In the car, baby. I’m gonna follow you back to your Grams’, then I gotta get back to the club.”

  I slid my hands up his chest. “Can I just clarify something?”

  “’Course.”

  “If I ignore your texts and phone calls in the future, will you always come find me? You know, like an anti-bat signal?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Where are you goin’ with this?”

  I shrugged. “Just working on creative ways to see you.”

  He groaned, leaning down to kiss me again. “Not a good plan, baby.”

  “Even if I take the time to suck―”

  “Stop,” he growled.

  I bit my lip and smiled. “Then start, then stop again, then―”

  His mouth covered mine and I wrapped my arms around his waist in an effort to stay upright.

  “Fuck!” he hissed, breaking the kiss. “We need to get you home or I’m gonna fuck you in the parking lot.”

  “Which would be bad?”

  He shook his head. “Goddammit, baby, you tryin’ to kill me?”

  “No, ’cause then I’d lose your cock,” I mused. “Well, unless I bronze it.”

  “Get in the car, Grace.”

  I scoffed. “I wouldn’t bronze it unless you were dead, honey. Don’t worry.”

  He chuckled. “Love that you’re lookin’ out for me.”

  “I love you. Of course, I’d look out for you.”

  He smacked my bottom. “In the car.”

  “Fine.” I sighed. “Are you old because you’re no fun, or no fun because you’re old?”

  His hand connected with my ass again and he squeezed. “I’m gonna show you no fun when I get you back in my bed.”

  I shivered. “Can’t wait.”

  He held my door and I slid into the driver’s seat. I waited for him to climb onto his bike before starting my car, then leading him home.

  “You sure you can’t come in for a minute?” I asked.

  “No, baby, we’re in the thick of it.”

  “Any word yet?”

  “Can’t tell you that, Grace.”

  I sighed. “Can you tell me when it’s over?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Are you being safe?”

  “Not even leaving the compound… well, except to track down my wayward woman.”

  I licked my lips. “I’d really like to show you just how wayward I can be.”

  “Fuck,” he rasped, kissing me. “I gotta go, honey.”

  “Fine. Text me when you get to the compound.”

  “I will.” He kissed me one more time at my grandmother’s door, then waited for me to step inside and lock the door before riding away.

  I walked into the family room to find my grandmother… and my dad.

  “You had us worried sick,” Dad growled.

  I frowned. “Excuse me?”

  “Goddammit, Grace. You should have let us know where you were.”

  “Okay, first…” I turned to my grandmother, “Grams, I’m sorry I didn’t text. There was a class I didn’t know about and I had to rush to change and forgot. I think sometimes people forget that I’m an adult and have every right to change my plans whenever I like to without having to notify everyone I know, but I’ve already had a lecture from Flea, and he was genuinely concerned, so I promise I’ll be more considerate going forward.”

  “I appreciate that, honey,” Grams said.

  “We were also genuinely concerned, sweetness,” Dad said quietly.

  “And, I have apologized,” I said calmly, even though I wanted to stomp my foot and remind him I wasn’t a child. “I should have texted Grams.”

  Dad shook his head, his eyes sad. “I’m gonna head out.”

  I nodded, and he kissed his mom and left the room. I waited a few minutes and locked everything up before joining Grams back in the family room. “Sappy movie?”

  “I’m in the mood for a shoot ’em up.”

  “Oooh, feisty. I love it.” I grabbed the remote and pulled up Netflix.

  Grams fell asleep five minutes into the movie, so I turned the volume down low and took a super quick shower.

  * * *

  Flea

  Calmer now that I’d gotten some distance and made sure Grace was safe, I texted her to let her know I’d made it, then walked back into the compound, heading straight to the bar where Finch handed me a beer before I asked.

  “Thanks, brother,” I said.

  “Gotta have the obligatory big brother conversation with you, Flea.”

  “Have at it,” I said.

  “You hurt her, I hurt you. Then Dad hurts you, and the cycle continues until you’re ruined.”

  I tipped my beer toward him. “Good talk.”

  Finch grinned. “Thanks for checkin’ on my sister.”

  The whole deal with Grace had only taken about an hour, so it was once again back to hurry up and wait while the Saints dealt with Kitty.

  Crow paced the great room, not really engaging with anyone, and the club gave him a wide berth. Ten minutes into his pacing, he stalled and pulled out his ringing phone, glancing at the screen with a surprised look on his face.

  “Minus? I didn’t expect to hear from you so quickly. Really?” He began waving frantically for Booker, who was across the room typing frantically at his laptop. “Are you sure it’s legit? We only have one shot at this. Okay, hold on.” Booker joined Crow and set his laptop down on the table in front of them. “Is everyone okay? Good. Yeah, Booker’s here and he’s ready for the code, I’m gonna give the phone to him.” Crow held the phone to Booker’s ear as he typed.

  My body locked as Booker hit the enter key, and then I saw a broad smile come across his face and relaxed. The room breathed a collective sigh of relief and Crow got back on the phone to wrap up with Minus. I can’t even imagine what they must have done to him to get him to talk that fast. I’m pretty sure I didn’t want to know.

  “Thanks brother, I owe you one,” Crow said before hanging up.

  “Owe him one? I thought Minus was helping to square up with us,” Mack said.

  “Well, as it turns out, our new friend Minus should be called Midas,” Crow replied.

  “Golden touch, huh?”

  “That boy must have a gold brick up his ass, because Kitty gave him more than just the key code. He gave us Los Psychos safe house locations, bank accounts, and details about the 3D printed license plates they u
sed to frame Hatch, just like Booker said. He gave us everything.”

  “It’s more likely that Minus used that gold brick to beat the information out of Kitty,” I mused.

  “I’d always heard the Burning Saints were serious, but if this is Minus after softening his club…” Crow let out a long whistle.

  “I’m not hearing any of this,” Jaxon said, his hands in the air.

  “How could you?” Crow asked. “You were never here.”

  “Minus’s guy just sent me a link to everything we need,” Booker said, clacking away at his laptop.

  “I still can’t believe Kitty would hand over everything to us. Are we sure this isn’t some sort of trap?” I asked nervously.

  “We can’t be sure of anything except that we have to get this evidence to the cops before the feds take over. We’re out of time,” Mack said.

  “Sonofa―!” Booker yelled from behind his laptop.

  “What is it?” Crow asked.

  “Kitty,” Booker replied.

  “What about him? Is there a problem with the files?”

  “No, but he wanted us to find them.”

  “What do you mean? His security is shit and he was just asking to get caught?” Crow asked.

  “No, he wanted us, the Dogs, to find this evidence trail,” Booker clarified.

  “How the hell could you know that?”

  “The key code he gave us was thirty-four characters long in mixed alpha and numeric characters.”

  “So?”

  “So,” Booker continued. “If you break those characters into groupings of two, it’s clear this is hexadecimal code.”

  Crow’s eye began to glaze over. “And?”

  “And, if you convert that hexadecimal code; 62 6f 6f 6b 65 72… and so on, you get, ‘booker is a dick.’”

  “Meaning, he was hoping you’d find it,” Crow said.

  “It would appear so, but why?” Booker asked.

  I noticed Grace’s dad walk in and stand with Booker.

  “I don’t know, but we’ll have to find out later. Right now, Ryan, you and Jaxon need to get those files to Portland PD and get Hatch the fuck outta there. I’ll deal with the Kitty aftermath,” Crow said to Booker before turning to the rest of us. “Everybody stick around here for now and stay frosty. As soon as I know anything about Hatch or Los Psychos, I’ll let you know.”