I glance around the rundown police station in frustration, looking for somebody, anybody, that looks like they might be more compassionate and capable than this jerk. Unfortunately, I don’t see anyone who looks like they care in this place.
Several officers crowd around one desk in the back corner, laughing at something one of them has said. Another officer is sitting at his desk, playing a game on his computer. None of them are paying a lick of attention to the woman sitting in one of the plastic chairs against the wall crying. Casey was so right when she said these guys are asses.
Looking back to the balding officer whose pot belly strains the buttons of his stained uniform, I feel some of my patience snap. “Priority,” I huff the word in exasperation. “You sit here, Officer Dillard, and tell me you won’t bring her home because it’s not a priority. What I’m trying to explain to you is that this should be a freakin’ priority! I know my sister, and she wouldn’t leave like this.”
“We took your report; now move along so we can do our job,” he answers me emotionlessly.
Move along. I can’t believe this patronizing peon really just told me to move along! I can’t believe no one will help me. The fact that the man can sit there, as if he does not care one bit over a missing eighteen-year-old girl while his hand keeps inching over to that jelly donut he put down when I walked in, pisses me off.
At my wits end, I slap my hand down on the surface of his desk as I stand up to leave. Then, pointing a finger at his face, I snap, “Here’s your new priority for the day, Officer Dillard, stop stuffing your face with stuff you obviously don’t need to be eating and get up off your ass and do a better job of showing the citizens of your jurisdiction that you actually give a shit.”
I leave the police station, and a feeling of defeat overtakes me. I am not equipped to search for her. I don’t even know where to begin. Calling the hospitals has come up empty each and every day. The more time that ticks by, the more helpless I feel.
The sympathetic secretary at the police station did suggest I check the homeless shelters. With no other options presenting themselves, I make my way to the first one on the list that she gave me.
Parking my car, I stare at the medium-sized building, thinking it can’t possibly be big enough to hold that many people. As I walk inside, though, I see the people who run this place have done the best they can with their resources.
The room in front of me is large, open, and has a friendly atmosphere, despite the circumstances for why one would need to be here. There are at least a hundred cots spaced out with wool blankets and pillows on every one. Some of those cots are already full with ragged and tattered looking men, women, and children. My heart breaks at seeing some of them so obviously defeated.
Along the back wall is a stainless steel counter, manned by a few volunteers who are dishing out food to those who are waiting in line with trays. There are so many people here, way more than the hundred or so cots that are visible. I can’t help wondering what happens to those who don’t get a cot. Do they sleep on the floor? Are they kicked out of the building at night?
With each passing thought, my eyes water a little more. It takes everything I have not to break down and cry for what is probably the thousandth time since Madyson went missing.
While staring at the room, one of the volunteers cautiously approaches me. “Miss, do you need some help?”
Looking somewhat blindly at the woman, I hear my voice rasp, “I’m looking for my little sister. Her name is Madyson. She’s eighteen years old. Hold on.” Digging through my purse, I pull out her picture. “Here, this is what she looks like. Have you seen her? She’s been missing for four days, and I’m desperate to find her.” I can hear the hope in my voice.
Silently I pray the kind looking woman in front of me has seen my little sister, but when she shakes her head and gives me a sad look, I know my prayers went unheard.
“I’m sorry, sweetie, but I haven’t seen her here. Feel free to walk the room and look around, though. I know that would make you feel better. Just please don’t get to close to anyone. They don’t like it when someone invades their space. It’s hard for them living on the streets, and the small things, like personal space and safety, are sometimes the only things they have left to hold on to.”
I nod my head dejectedly at the woman before thanking her for her help. After going through the place with no sign of my sister, I move onto the next two facilities with no luck. It is like she vanished. No one has seen her, knows her, or honestly, seems to care.
The drive home is a blur as the tears run freely down my face. Not paying attention to anything around me, I make my way to my doorstep only to stop in my tracks.
Leaning against my door in his jeans, black T-shirt, and leather vest is none other than Ice.
As if I don’t have enough going wrong in my life! Let’s add something else to the crap-tastic day I am having.
“Brooke’s not here, or she shouldn’t be,” I quickly say, hoping he will leave.
“Oh, I’m very aware of where Brooke is. I can’t say the same for your sister, but no worries about my daughter.”
Cocky bastard. All of my energy has been spent on the search for my sister; I don’t have it in me to fight with him today.
“Why are you here, then? I really don’t have time for your brand of asshole.”
He smiles, really, genuinely, full blown smiles. Something shifts in the air around me. My anger remains firmly planted at the surface, though I see something deeper into this man before me suddenly.
“My brand of asshole, huh? You’re cute, Morgan. I’m here to help.”
“Help?” I question out loud unintentionally. Why does he want to help now? He turned me away. Harshly, brutally, without cause, without a second glance, and without care, he turned me away. Now he stands at my doorstep, offering to help? I want nothing more than to refuse him. The independent side of me wants to scream, yell, throw things, and yes, have a full blown temper tantrum that I don’t need a single thing from him. The truth is, however, I do. I do need his help, his connections, and even the bad boy edge he carries. He is the only hope I have left for finding my sister.
“Can we go inside?” he asks, looking at the keys still in my hand.
No! I scream inside my head. No, we can’t go inside. No, you can’t simply be nice now. He owes me an apology at the very least. Is this how all women are around him? He acts like the biggest dick on the planet until he decides to give me a chance and what now? Am I supposed to bow down and thank him?
My entire life has been doing what everyone wants and expects from me. He is no different. I am tired of being walked all over and treated like crap. No more.
“Why? I have nothing to say to you. Madyson is my problem, not yours.”
He shakes his head at me and blows out a breath. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”
Confusion covers my features. “Huh?”
“Fine. I was wrong. I’m here to make it right and help find Madyson.”
Surprise hits me at his admission. His attitude must be rubbing off on me because I can’t stop myself from challenging him further. “Wrong about what exactly? Wrong about my irresponsibility? Wrong about my sister? Wrong about my intentions with your daughter? Wrong about why I was at your business to see my friend? Which, I will add, I had no idea you were her boss, or I would’ve steered clear. So, yes, Ice, please tell me which infraction you are owning up to because there are many.”
“I was wrong about you. All of it. Everything. I’m an ass of epic proportions,” he states easily.
“And…” I know I am playing with fire. I see it dance in his eyes.
Suddenly, he is in my personal space, and I am backing up against the wall. His hands come up to on either side of my face. “What are you looking for exactly, Morgan? Let’s stop the bullshit and cut to the chase.”
My chest rises and falls in rapid succession at his close proximity. “An apology. Some respect. I need to fi
nd my sister, but I don’t need to feel like crap doing it. I won’t beg you.” I drop my eyes, unable to handle the intensity of his stare.
“You’re cute, Morgan. Understand this, I make no apologies. Ever. I am who I am. I’m all man. I’m also man enough to admit when I’m wrong. I did that. Sorry--I’m not sorry. Everything I do, right or wrong, serves a purpose.” He tips my chin up, forcing me to look at him again. “My word is solid, and I give you my word I will find your sister somehow, someway. Morgan, you get me—my help—but, sweetheart, what you don’t get is my apology. We clear?”
At my nod, he pushes off the wall, giving us both space. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I make my way over to open the door. Once inside, I watch as Ice takes in my space. Inside, I feel slightly invaded having him unexpectedly in my personal area.
“What do you know?” he questions, bringing me out of my insecurities.
“Nothing really. She stayed home from school because she was having cramps.” His eyes blink in what I could assume to be a cringe at my honesty before he quickly hides behind the mask of meanness once again. “Old lady Hanover said she saw her leave around ten a.m. Madyson apparently greeted her and offered to pick her up some milk from the drug store on the corner. She was going to get some pain meds and chocolate. That was the last anyone has seen or heard from her.”
“That’s a starting point. Does she have any enemies at school? A boyfriend?”
I shake my head at his questions. “Believe it or not, other than my parents’ issues with her, my sister is well liked.”
“What do you know of your parents’ financial situation?”
“They’re fine. What do they have to do with this?” The hair on the back of my neck stands up. The look in Ice’s eyes shows he knows more than he is letting on. It is not my place to divulge my parent’s financial situation to anyone. I can’t help but wonder if he already knows. They aren’t rolling in money. They have quite a bit of debt, but they are getting by.
“Do you trust me?” He locks his gaze with mine so he can gage my answer.
“No,” I answer with complete honesty. This he returns with that breathtaking smile of his.
“Cute and smart. I could possibly like you after all, Morgan Powell.”
“I don’t need you to like me. I need to find my sister, you can help or you can move on.”
“What if I told you your parents are in some serious debt?”
“I would say my dad has a good job, but my mom likes to spend. They’re fine, though. What does that have to do with my sister?”
“Your parents aren’t fine. They’re on the verge of losing everything.” His words rock me. I stumble to get to my couch to sit down.
“What are you saying, Ice?” I knew they overspent and had some debt, but is it that bad?
“I’m not saying anything for sure. What I’m doing is gathering information so I can sort out the facts and follow the leads to get your sister. This means I have to keep an open mind. Desperate people do desperate things.”
“They wouldn’t,” I whisper, not really knowing if I am right or not.
Would they do something crazy to Madyson to pay off a debt? Are they worse off than I know? I have even more questions than answers now and more concerns than ever before.
Chapter
10
Ice
“Where are we now?”
The room is packed. Every patched member of the Regulators MC is present. Every man in this room is deadly and has some sort of special skill set: sniper, explosives, hand to hand combat. We are not exactly a group of men you want to fuck with.
“From what we gathered on nearby cameras, Madyson Powell was walking to the drug store. She was approached at the right side of the building. The guy was in dark and torn clothing. For an unknown reason, she followed him to the back corner where there is no angle on a camera. Beyond that moment, there is no further visual of her anywhere,” Rocks informs the group.
“Where are we with the next Sandoval meet?” I ask, needing confirmation. Sandoval won’t meet with just anyone. It has to be me each and every time, which means I adjust to his availability.
“Tonight. We are due dock side at midnight,” Coal answers promptly, checking his watch as if to calculate our count down.
“Map out the points. Set up teams. As soon as he pulls out, I want every single one of them followed. Screech, hack into every system you can: gps on their cars, phones. I don’t care what it takes, track everything. If we can find where the girls are, we have hope.”
The men all nod at me. “Screech, have you found anything more on the Powell’s financial situation?”
“Has this become personal?” Hammer watches me intently for my answer.
“No, I’m covering all our bases, making sure there isn’t a loan shark involved who’s looking for leverage in a teen girl,” I bark back at him.
“You seem on edge, brother. Is this gonna be a problem?” Hammer asks in his same casual tone, always the calm one. He has never been one to question me. I don’t know why the fuck he feels the need to start now.
I am out of my seat and in his face before anyone can move. “Have I ever led you wrong? Are you gonna fuckin’ question me now? Innocent women are disappearing left and right. Commander Wall and his team gathered the initial intel that brought us to Sandoval. We have been investigating and building up to this. Why question me now?”
“Not questioning the task at hand, only gauging where your head is. You’re pushing hard and fast. We need to know if this is personal.”
“Fuck no, why would it be?” I snarl back at him.
“A certain big sister comes to mind.” Coal wears a sinister smirk.
“Where the hell do you assholes get off?” My anger rises.
“Last night, I got off with Crissy,” Coal eggs me on.
“Fuck you!”
“Cute chick, and yup, she has you shaken. No worries, Prez, we got your back. We’ll get your woman’s sister back,” Hammer taunts.
“She’s not my woman!” I explode. “Madyson is Brooke’s friend. People care about her. This doesn’t fit the other missing girls. We could end up in two different directions here. We cannot afford to miss any details.”
“We get that, brother, but you’ve never been this wound up. Check that shit before we’re in too deep,” Coal orders, making me stop and think.
Shit. The truth hits me harder than a case of C4. I won’t admit it to him, but he is right. What is it about Morgan Powell that winds me up like a coo-coo clock ready to spring?
Morgan
Walking into my parents’ home, I am taken aback at the removal of all reminders of Madyson. Not that there were many in the first place; however, what little there was is now gone. For instance, the family picture my mother had hanging in the dining room where my sisters and I pasted on fake smiles and pretended we were the perfect, happy little family that our parents wanted us to be. That picture is now missing, and in its place, there is an oversized portrait of my mother and father.
There had also been a couple of pictures stationed strategically around our old family portrait. Two pictures each of Madyson, Mallory, and myself. Those pictures are now missing, as well. It is as if they are trying to erase any evidence they could of their children. In its place is now a house that gives the impression that two well-to-do adults live here. How is my youngest sister Mallory taking these changes?
My mother sits on her settee, sipping tea like she has not a care in the world. All while my sister—her daughter—could be in trouble or worse.
Tears pool up in my eyes at the thought of what Madyson could be enduring.
“Mom, why did you take her pictures down?”
“Whose, dear?” she asks, pretending to be baffled.
“Seriously? Madyson. Your middle daughter.”
My mother takes another slow sip of her tea before nonchalantly answering, “She is gone. She didn’t want to be a part of our family. Rather than hav
e to explain ourselves, we took her away.”
“She wanted to be a family. You kicked her out.”
“Actions speak louder than words, Morgan. She didn’t act accordingly. Mallory has learned from her mistakes.”
My blood runs cold. What does she mean Mallory has learned from Madyson’s mistakes? Is Mallory in danger of being kicked out, too?
My mind races with worry at the thought that my other little sister is now living in fear of being kicked out of the only home she has ever known. How could my parents be this callous?
“Your daughter is missing!” I shout. “How can you sit here drinking tea like nothing is wrong?”
“She is eighteen. She is free to be. Nothing is wrong.”
Bile rises up in my throat at her words. How easily she tosses us aside for not fitting her mold. What kind of sick, twisted spin has she given herself in her head to justify this?
Looking around one last time, I realize this is a lost cause. I don’t know how or when yet, but I need to speak to Mallory then possibly find a lawyer. There is no way I can leave my other sister to suffer this nightmare anymore. My parents have gone from delusional and self-involved to deranged. First, however, I have to find Madyson.
Without another word, I turn and leave. Like a robot, I walk to my car, get in, and drive without truly thinking about what I am doing or where I am going. Instinctively, I end up at After Midnight. I don’t know why I came here, only that I can’t go home and find my place empty yet again. Any time I try to do it, the pain I feel from the silence of my house manifests so profoundly I feel like I am being stabbed in the heart. My chest seizes up, and I end up crying till I pass out because I am still not sleeping at night due to the fear for Madyson.
Spotting Casey’s car in the back lot, I find relief in being able to see her. Timorously, I make my way to the club entrance.
The burly man at the door does nothing to ease my mood. He towers over me with his beard and huge frame. The black leather vest he wears has a patch that says Hulk on it. Hulk he is, that’s for sure.
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