BEASTLords of Carnage MC

by Daphne Loveling

  And now, I know there’s no way for things to ever be the same again between us. You can’t change the past.

  That’s why it’s crazy that I let myself get into this… whatever it is with him.

  I should never have let Travis back into my life. For either of our sakes. I know he’s trying to help me with this case, even though it puts him at risk with his club. But I don’t know why.

  It feels so good being with him again. Too good. I should be strong enough to stay away from him. I was strong enough once before — strong enough to leave him, even though it almost broke me.

  The cold fact of the matter is there’s no future for us. It’s ridiculous to even hope. We’re on opposite sides of the law, he and I. Even though my side isn’t quite as squeaky clean as I wish it was.

  I’ve never been more in doubt of the decisions I’ve made. Of this life I’ve chosen. I’m a mess, inside and out.

  And Travis has turned into a Beast. Literally.

  If I believed in signs from the universe, this one couldn’t be more clear.

  But the universe has screwed me over before. And right now, my heart is telling me to ignore my head. That sometimes a Beast is more of a man than all the rest.

  After a quick breakfast, Travis takes me on his bike to visit Natalia. When we get to Jewel’s place, she lets us into the small entry of her apartment. I stop Travis just inside the door.

  “Maybe you should take your cut off,” I suggest, remembering what happened last time Natalia saw it.

  He looks down at the leather. “Good point,” he says, shrugging it off.

  Natalia is in Jewel’s tiny living room, sitting on the couch. Olga is there, too, which is a relief. Natalia’s wearing a pair of comfy sweats and a purple top with sparkles on it. She looks for all the world like any typical teenager. Fortunately, Natalia doesn’t seem to recognize Travis as the man with the Lords of Carnage cut at the hospital. She gives us a wide smile and stands up to greet us.

  “Hello, Brooke!” she beams. “I am so happy today!”

  My heart swells as she comes up and gives me a big hug. It’s a little hard to swallow for a second as I think about the hell that Natalia has escaped, and everything she’s been through to get here.

  And then I remember that if she’s correct, there are at least nine other girls out there who are still in that hell.

  “Thank you both so much for helping Natalia,” I say to Jewel and Olga.

  “It is our pleasure,” Olga replies, waving a hand.

  “Have you gotten any word about Natalia’s father?” Jewel asks me.

  “I’m planning to call my contact at the embassy today.” I glance at Olga, and she translates for Natalia, who looks at me with hope. “I’ll call or come back as soon as I have an update. In the meantime, is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need?”

  Jewel chews her lip. “I know Natalia’s still worried that the men will come for her. Now that we’re out of the hospital, I suppose she’s safer, but…”

  Travis cuts in. “I’m gonna ask Angel to send some of the Lords here to keep an eye on things.” He glances at Natalia. “Just to hang around outside the entrances of the apartment. Make sure no one gets in or out without their knowledge.”

  I thank him with my eyes, grateful that he realizes their presence in the apartment would make Natalia nervous.

  “Are you sure?” Jewel asks doubtfully. “It’s not the club’s…”

  “Don’t worry about it, Jewel. You’re part of the club. You’re family. If you’re in any danger, we take care of you. And that extends to your house guests.”

  She breathes out a sigh. “Thanks, Beast.”

  “Natalia,” I say, leading her to the couch. “I have a question for you.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out the small, shiny object I’ve brought with me. “Do you happen to recognize this?”

  Reflexively, I start to look over to Olga for a translation, but before she can start, Natalia plucks the object out of my hand excitedly. She holds it up and exclaims something, then looks at me expectantly.

  “She says it belongs to one of the other girls. Ashley,” Olga tells me.

  “Are you sure, Natalia?” I press her. “Are you totally sure it doesn’t just look like the same ring?”

  More talking between Olga and Natalia.

  “Nemaye,” Olga says, shaking her head. “Natalia say that Ashley loved this ring. She say it was her magic fortune ring.”

  Oh my God.

  If Natalia is right, this is the first real evidence that the traffickers were operating out of the laundromat. And that both Natalia and the other girl — Ashley — were there.

  “Thank you, Natalia,” I say, squeezing her hand. “I have to take the ring back. But hopefully, we’ll get to give it back to Ashley in person, very soon.” I turn to Olga. “Thank you for translating. I’ll try to be back soon.”

  While I’ve been talking to Natalia, Travis has gone into Jewel’s kitchen. He’s just getting off the phone when I come in.

  “Angel’s gonna send over Brick and Skid,” he tells Jewel. “One guy stationed at each entrance. We’ll keep a twenty-four seven watch until this is over.” Turning to me, he continues. “You and me are gonna meet Angel in an hour.”

  I nod. “Drive me back to your place,” I say. “I need my car.”

  25

  Brooke

  My nerves are tingling as I ride behind Travis back to his place. It feels like a storm is about to break. Like I’m finally getting closer to some answers, after days of going nowhere.

  Once I’m in my car, I follow Travis through Tanner Springs, past the road their clubhouse is on, and out of town. I had assumed we’d be going to the clubhouse, but I guess it makes sense that Angel might not want to talk to me there. We go about five miles out into the country, and Travis turns off onto a gravel road that leads to a small man-made lake where families like to take their kids on the weekends. The road makes a wide circle around the park where the lake is. We take it to the far end, where a lone motorcycle is parked not far from a picnic shelter.

  Travis gets off his bike and I climb out of my car. A figure stands up from a picnic table. As we get closer, I recognize him as the man who thought I was Jewel’s friend when I went to the clubhouse last time.

  “Brother,” Travis greets him. Angel nods but doesn’t say anything.

  “Mr…” I begin, holding out my hand.

  “Angel.” His voice is gruff. “Sit down.”

  I do as he says, watching as he straddles the table with one leg. He plants his boot on the bench in front of him.

  “Talk,” he grunts. “About why you came into my clubhouse pretendin’ to be Jewel’s friend.”

  I glance at Travis, but he doesn’t say anything. It’s clear he’s gonna let the two of us tangle by ourselves.

  “I assume Tr… Beast… has told you I’m in town investigating a sex trafficking ring. And that one of the girls who escaped the ring is currently at Jewel’s apartment.”

  “Yeah.”

  This Angel guy is inscrutable as hell. I force myself not to be intimidated by him and continue.

  “The thing is,” I say, “this girl, um, reacted very strongly to the sight of Beast’s cut when she was in the hospital. Through a translator — the girl doesn’t speak very much English — she said it’s the same cut that one of the men who was sexually abusing her — raping her — while she was being held captive wore.”

  He shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “There’s plenty of clubs around here. The Lords aren’t involved with shit like that.”

  “That’s what Travis says,” I nod. I glance at him, then back at Angel. “And I believe him, Angel. I’m choosing to take his word, and yours, that the club is not involved. For now.” I draw myself up. “But that does not mean that no individual from your club is.”

  Angel’s eyes grow cold. He tilts his head at me, appraisingly. “That’s a hell of an accusation to make, without any proof.”
/>
  “I don’t have proof, you’re right. But I do have a description, from the girl.”

  “You see anyone at the club that looked like that?”

  “No. But I’m asking you. As vice-president. To tell me the truth. Is there anyone in your club who fits it?”

  “What’s this guy supposed to look like?” he smirks.

  “Normal height. Older. Maybe fifties, or early sixties. A bit of a paunch. Black hair, with gray in it. Gray beard.” I pause. “Tattoos. One of them the girl remembered more than the others. On his upper arm. A skull, with long hair and a bandana tied around his head. Pointing a gun.”

  The smirk is gone from Angel’s face. His brow creases. One side of his jaw pulses.

  He doesn’t say anything for a second. Then another second. I glance over at Travis, to see he’s staring at me in disbelief.

  “Holy fuck,” he rasps.

  “What?” I ask, glancing back at Angel, who turns and nods grimly at Travis.

  “Rock.”

  “Brooke, you gotta get out of here. Me and Angel need to talk.” Travis has pulled me aside.

  “Travis, I…”

  “No arguments. Go.” He frowns down at me.

  “Goddamnit, Travis. Your VP just basically told me he knows who this man is!” I fling my hands out in frustration. “If you two want your club to be seen as innocent of being implicated in all this, you can’t fucking protect this guy!”

  “We’re not protecting him!” he interrupts. “But we gotta figure out what to do here. This shit affects the club, too.”

  “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just go haul this asshole into custody.”

  “Because we need time!”

  “Time for what, goddamnit?”

  “Time to figure out who the fuck these traffickers are!” He rakes a hand through his hair. “You think he’s gonna tell you anything? Rock ain’t gonna tell you jack shit! You haul him in today, you will not get one goddamn word outta him, no matter what you do. He’s not fuckin’ afraid of some feds. He’s been in prison before. Shit, there ain’t no way you can do anything to him that will break him!”

  I take a step back, crossing my arms in front of me, and consider that he may be right. He obviously knows this Rock better than I do.

  “You want information, B?” he growls. “You want to find out who these people are? Find the rest of these girls, and save them? Do you?”

  “Yes,” I shoot back.

  “Then shut the hell up, go back to the hotel, and let me talk to Angel.” His flashing eyes soften just a bit. “I’ll come talk to you later. Okay?”

  I heave a deep, defeated sigh. “Okay,” I concede. “But I swear to God, do not leave me hanging, Travis.”

  “I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”

  “I give you until the end of the day.”

  I turn on my heel and walk back to the car. I’m still angry, but I’m trying to be hopeful that Travis will keep his word and get some answers for me.

  I’m too antsy to go back to the hotel and just wait. So I decide to kill some time by taking the long way back.

  I drive towards town slowly, for the first time really allowing myself to look around and reminisce about growing up here. It wasn’t all bad. Not all the time. It’s just that the things I have the strongest memories of are the ones I wish I could forget.

  On an impulse, I turn the car at a crossroads and follow a narrow highway toward the north side of town. On the northeastern edge used to be the mobile home park I grew up in. I haven’t been there in so long, I’m not even sure it’s still there. But sure enough, pretty soon I see the faded wooden sign that announces the entrance to the place.

  I drive in, slowing to look around. The park looks just different enough for me to know that I haven’t gone back in time. Abstractly, I wonder how many of the people I knew back then still live here. I wonder how many of them would recognize me, or if I’d recognize them.

  The trailer I lived in with my mom is still right where it was. It’s been repainted, and it actually looks better than it did when we lived there. No one’s outside, so I slow the car, pull it over to the side of the road, and stop. With the engine running, I look around at what used to be my world. The front steps where I used to sit and read are right there, just like they’re waiting for me to come outside.

  In my mind’s eye, a boy on a dirt bike comes tearing around the bend in the road. The girl sitting on the steps looks up from her book, watching him as he hotdogs, popping wheelies and skidding around.

  We were both so innocent then.

  I wish more than anything that I could have stopped that little girl on the steps from having to suffer all the things she did. But I couldn’t save her. All I could do was pick up the broken pieces as soon as she turned eighteen, and try to help her piece them back together.

  Maybe in some ways, I’m still trying.

  Maybe the reason I’m back here in the first place, trying to break this trafficking ring, isn’t only to save some other broken girls. Maybe this whole thing has been about trying to save myself, too. Any one of those girls being held captive right now could have been me. A kid who fell through the cracks, and fell prey to some of the worst instincts of men.

  I could have used someone to save me. To give me strength, and hope.

  I think maybe I was looking to Travis to do that. But in the end, I never gave him a chance.

  I stay there, lost in thought, until I see the curtains move in the living room window of the trailer next door. I realize I probably look pretty suspicious just sitting here. Putting my car into gear, I pull back out onto the road and finish my slow circuit around the mobile home park, feeling more wistful than I ever thought I would.

  I’m almost back out on the main road when I notice there’s a car behind me. It’s a dark navy Dodge Charger, totally nondescript. My first thought is that it’s an unmarked police car, and that someone in the park called in about a strange vehicle lurking around. I chuckle softly and wave my hand in the rearview mirror so he knows I’m not a threat, and then pull back out on the highway.

  The car turns behind me, and starts to follow me at about five lengths behind. I shrug it off, figuring he’ll tail me for a few blocks or so to make his point, and then turn back toward town. But that’s not what happens. Frowning, I see he’s pulling nearer, closing the distance to about three car lengths behind. Now I’m starting to get irritated. I prepare to see him whip out a dashboard flasher to pull me over. “Seriously, Rambo? Nothing better to do today?” I mutter.

  But he doesn’t do that either. At this point, I’m sick of it. I decide I’m going to keep driving out of town instead of turning back into Tanner Springs. He’ll get tired of following me sooner or later, even if we have to cross the county line. I speed up a little — still respecting the limit — and come to the crest of a hill that marks the unofficial northern city limits.

  Once we’re over the hill, the car tailing me speeds up, rapidly.

  My stomach twists in alarm.

  Suddenly I realize this isn’t just a self-important cop trying to teach me a lesson.

  And I’ve just driven away from town and isolated myself.

  I check the road in front of me; there’s no other vehicles visible on either side. Gripping the wheel, I punch on the accelerator. I feel the engine goose ahead as I put a quick ten miles on my speed. The car behind me falls back. Then, a second or two later, it starts to speed up again. Fuck. I opted to take my own car down here instead of a fleet vehicle, and my engine is no match for the Charger’s. I push the accelerator to the floor, to put as much distance between us as possible. But the Charger catches up easily. It pulls into the left lane, and starts to gain on me. Thinking quickly, I wrench the wheel to the left, straddling the center line so he can’t pass me. He swerves and falls back, then starts to gain again.

  A solid thump to the back of my car jars my neck. I cry out and grab the wheel tighter so I don’t lose control. The Charger fa
lls back, then speeds up and hits me again, harder this time. I swerve, the back of my car fishtailing a little. He’s going to damage the chassis soon, and if he does I won’t be able to keep the car on the road. This isn’t sustainable. I’m going too fast to turn, and I can’t outrun him. I have to figure out another plan.

  In desperation, I scan the road ahead for a place to pull off, but there’s nothing. At the top of the next hill, the Charger hits me a third time, and the impact makes one of my rear tires blow. This is it.

  Then I’m skidding, the car veering onto the gravel shoulder on its own. I brace myself for impact as the front wheels fly over the side, into the air. My stomach drops as the car starts to fall, and as I go over the edge and the unknown, a raw cry rips from my throat:

  “Travis!”

  26

  Beast

  I watch Brooke as she gets in her car and leaves. When she’s gone, Angel comes up behind me.

  Silently, we mount our bikes and head to the clubhouse.

  There ain’t nothing to say right now. Not until we get some answers.

  That doesn’t mean that I’m not ready to explode. To purge the shit that’s coursing through my veins like poison.

  Anger. Disbelief. Disgust.

  I can’t believe Rock was raping little girls. But there’s no other way to explain what Brooke just told us.

  I have no fucking idea what’s going on. And I’m pretty sure I don’t want to.

  But whatever it is, we have to get to the bottom of it. For the good of those little girls, and for the club.

  Angel and I head straight up the stairs as soon as we get to the clubhouse. As we climb, I hear Rock’s voice shouting through the closed door of his apartment.