Torched: Afterburn (Iron Serpents Motorcycle Club Book 2)

by Shay Mara

  “Their people can’t seem to find any evidence of an intrusion. They tried to trace the first hack but allegedly came up against dozens of international VPN proxies and dead ends, which led the CEO to wonder whether it was an inside job and one of them is covering. He had his own analyst comb through every employee’s data logs, but again, hit a dead end. No strange correspondence, nothing to suggest the attack was launched from within, and no one opened any malicious attachments or files. But until the situation is resolved, all operations have been suspended and he has surveillance on the tech guys.”

  “It doesn’t necessarily have to be an inside job,” I pointed out, “the first attack could’ve embedded malicious script and hidden it so deep in the system that they couldn’t find it. Then again, that attack could be completely unrelated. It’s definitely a tad strange that there’s absolutely no evidence of an actual leak though. How’s the physical security around their server room?” I asked.

  “They have video surveillance and key card entry, nothing suspicious there from the outside looking in either. The entrance to the building is also outfitted with a body scanner, all wifi and storage devices have to be left at the door during an employee’s shift.”

  Hmm, sounded like just the kind of mystery I enjoyed sinking my teeth into. Was it a good idea though? Could I even do it? I leaned against the wall and weighed the pros and cons. “I don’t know, Silas…”

  “There’s fifty thousand dollars with your name on it, Styx, provided you can sniff out the snake.”

  “You don’t have anyone else who can take this on?” I asked.

  “No one on your level who’s local and I can trust.”

  “I’ve been out of the game for a year,” I added. “I didn’t have internet access in Hazelton and haven’t really had a chance to catch up yet.”

  “Again, I’m not worried about it, you’re a quick learner.”

  I sighed at his relentlessness. “Let me think about it.”

  He pulled a burner from his pocket and handed it to me. “Don’t take too long,” he urged.

  I gave him a nod and watched as he sauntered off, silently admiring the confidence in his strut. Silas was just one of those people who never seemed the least bit fazed by any obstacle, I’d never heard him raise his voice under even the most stressful circumstances. And he wasn’t particularly handsome or fit—my guess was he was at least fifty—but that intoxicating aura of power made him strangely magnetizing.

  Magnetizing enough to draw me back into the game against my better judgment? It was definitely a possibility.

  : : : :

  Late that night in the home office Torch had set up for me, I found myself so wrapped up in combing through emails and surveillance video that I didn’t even hear him come home until I felt his breath and soft beard on my neck.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered in my ear before taking a nibble.

  “Working on the liquor license mystery,” I replied, trying my best not to let those wonderfully warm lips distract me. “Fuck, babe… How am I supposed to get anything done with you doing that?”

  I felt his mouth curl into a smile. “But you’re so goddamn sexy when you’re all focused and shit, what am I supposed to do with this hard-on?”

  My eyes still glued to the monitor, I reached up and swatted his face away. “You need to wait your turn. Go away so I can finish.”

  He chuckled and pulled away. “You’re even sexier when you get bossy. Fine, I’ll just watch then. Let me know when this hungry cock moves up in line.”

  I glanced back over my shoulder and watched as he plopped down on the futon and stuck his hand down the waistband of his jeans. “You’re fucking incorrigible,” I chastised with a roll of the eyes.

  He cocked his head and grinned. “That’s a mighty fancy way of saying you can’t wait to take another ride.”

  “I think you’re experiencing selective hearing,” I groaned, turning back to the computer before he got me all hot and bothered. Just in time too, I caught a flash of something interesting in the video I’d been running through. Instantly back in work mode, I squinted at the screen and rewound.

  There was my target, walking nervously by the bar hours before the brawl. I zeroed in on his hand. “Gotcha, asshole.”

  “You get something?” Torch asked.

  “Oh, I already had the ‘why’ figured out. I just found the ‘how’.”

  Torch hopped to his feet and walked over, then leaned down and looked over my shoulder. “What are we looking at?”

  “This is the feed that points at the front window from inside the bar.” I pointed at Alex walking into the frame, “And that’s our little friend. Watch his hand.”

  “He’s running it along the glass?”

  “Yeah,” I smirked. “With a glass cutter.”

  “What?” He leaned closer to the screen. “You’re shittin’ me.”

  I clicked over to the driver’s license picture I’d pulled from the DMV. “Nope. Meet Alex Mitchell-Collins, son of our recently appointed councilwoman, Jan Collins. Apparently this whole thing was planned. A long cut like that across the bottom made it hard to see and the whole pane was bound to shatter with a few pounds of pressure. He wanted to instigate a fight that spilled out into the street, and what better way to do it than by going through a window? There were too many bodies in the way to see anything down low during the fight, but I bet Alex kicked back at the glass since it’s pretty clear on the video that Jet pulled him away from it.”

  “That motherfucker,” he seethed.

  “It wasn’t his idea, Jan put him up to it. I traced the dispatch call to her cell phone. She must have been waiting outside or something.”

  “What the fuck? Why?”

  I pulled up the next picture, this time from social media. “Jan has another kid. Recognize her?”

  “Is that—”

  “Sadie… freshman club crawler and part-time cocktail waitress at the Nest. She didn’t have anything to do with it as far as I can tell, they’ve been estranged for months and Sadie wasn’t working last night. I checked phone records and voicemails but Jan’s the only one making calls, Sadie hasn’t picked up or responded. Apparently, her nutjob mom concocted the scheme because she’s pissed we’re ruining her precious offspring and turning her into a slut. Jan’s words, not mine.”

  “That’s bullshit. Sadie’s twenty-one, right? Nobody’s forcing her.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s the problem. Jan’s been doing a lot of research on political strategy, I think she wants to go for mayor and probably sees Sadie as a liability for her image.”

  “How would ruining our business help with that?” he asked. “We have a lot of supporters who vote.”

  “No idea,” I replied with a shrug. “I can read her emails and see her internet habits, but there’s no getting in her brain. Maybe she thought Sadie would instantly lose her job and come crawling home, maybe she’s just being irrational and taking it out on the MC, or maybe this was just a first shot to make the club look bad and turn those supporters against it. The election isn’t for a couple more years, she might have a long-term plan.”

  He scrubbed his beard and took a step back. “What about Gellar? Why would he go along with it?”

  I stood up from the chair and handed him a stack of emails. “Mike Gellar’s just another pawn, Jan’s been fucking him and used the threat of a sexual harassment case to force his hand.”

  “Fantastic,” Torch muttered incredulously as he thumbed through the evidence. “What a fucking cunt, this shit’s about to get ugly.”

  “Let’s not be hasty, I think I can handle it under the radar.”

  He looked skeptical. “How are you gonna handle it?”

  “We’ll have a little chat, nothing extreme. I know it’s a foreign concept, but you don’t always have to break bones to make a point. ”

  “But it’s a lot more fun than playing politics,” he protested.

  “Tell you what,” I murmu
red, melting into his chest and reaching around to run my fingers up his back. “Let me try it my way first. If it doesn’t work, have at her.”

  “All these fucking compromises,” he grumbled.

  I gripped the back of his head with the other hand and lifted my heels to gain a few inches. “Yeah, but aren’t they always worth it?”

  “Goddamn it,” he groaned, “now you’re the one trying to distract me so I stand down.”

  I leaned back and smiled. “Is it working?”

  He grabbed me by the waist and pulled my hips tightly to his, the hardness in his jeans answering my question. “Not down here. He’s pretty happy standing up.”

  “And I’ll be happy to give him some attention if his owner concedes on the issue at hand,” I offered.

  Pursing his lips, he fisted my hair and tugged it back, forcing me to stare into those gorgeous eyes. It was a good view, they burned with frustration and primal desire, which was the best way to tame this particular manly species. “You have twenty-four hours, Mrs. Larter, and I’m hereby calling an end to the workday.”

  : 5 :

  | LIVIA |

  I sat on my bike across the street from Linwood’s municipal building waiting for Jan Collins to make an appearance. It was late in the morning, but members of Linwood’s city council rarely kept regular hours at the office. Representing a four-digit population was apparently an easy gig judging by how little they all had on their email calendars.

  Not only had I figured out Jan’s cockeyed plan to shut the bar down, I’d also discovered things about the bitch that didn’t really line up with who she was making herself out to be. And since nothing pissed me off more than a hypocrite with a superiority complex, dealing with me was about to become a rather unpleasant part of her day. I was cranky. Really fucking cranky. But I was also feeling pretty cocky. I knew I had her by the lady balls.

  Ten minutes and a cigarette later, I spotted my prey walking down the front steps. She was forty-five, but with that flaming red hair, statuesque build, and the complexion of a teenager, she could easily have passed for early thirties. The woman was gorgeous, I’d give her that, and it was easy to see why she’d spent most of her adult life as a trophy wife. From what I’d gathered, she’d been married to Linwood’s long-time Director of Public Works until his death a few years back. Between his retirement and life insurance payouts, Jan had made out like a bandit, but her shopping habits drained those funds within months. In order to keep her enormous house on the outskirts of town, she bit the bullet and went into real estate. She then won her elected seat by running on a platform of being one of the people; a grieving widow and working mom who subscribed to family values over everything else.

  Right.

  Seeing her coming down the front steps, I hopped to my feet and jogged up to meet her halfway. “Councilwoman Collins,” I greeted.

  “I’m on my way to an appointment, Mrs. Larter. What do you want?”

  Ignoring her objection and shitty attitude, I smiled and remained planted in place. “Oh good, you know who I am, saves us the boring formalities. I’ll be quick and to the point, I want the club’s liquor license back.”

  “You need to take that up with Rick Gellar, the city manager,” she replied curtly.

  “Are you sure? Because I’m fairly certain he only suspended it to keep you quiet. Blackmail really should be left to the professionals, Jan. Amateurs like you tend to… you know… fuck shit up.”

  “I have no idea what you’re babbling on about, but I don’t have time for this. Excuse me.”

  She tried to step around me, but I skipped down the stairs and intercepted her. I wanted to grab her and hurl her down to the street, but seeing as how we were out in public, I decided to practice a little self-control. “You’ll make time,” I insisted, the bogus saccharine tone of my voice making my own stomach curl.

  She angrily stared me down. “Do I need to call security?”

  “Sure, go ahead. But then I’ll have to stick the real cops on your son for the shit he pulled at the bar last night and I don’t think you want that.”

  “My son was attacked by your husband’s gangster friend,” she snarled. “The police know that.”

  I nodded. “Right, yeah… I’m sure they’ll completely dismiss the security footage of your precious kid scoring the glass a few hours earlier to make it easier to break. Regardless of intent, it didn’t come crashing down on an innocent patron’s head so it probably won’t be a big deal. They probably also won’t care that he provoked the brawl by getting a little too handsy with a woman who made it clear she didn’t want him touching her. Vandalism, public endangerment, sexual assault, I’m sure I’m missing a few.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. That’s absurd.”

  “What part?” I asked. “That Alex could be looking at charges, that we have hidden cameras you didn’t factor in, or are you just talking about this entire harebrained scheme of yours in general? I agree with you on the latter, it was pretty absurd. For someone in a position of power, you’re kind of a dummy.”

  “I thought your kind doesn’t believe in getting the law involved,” she seethed, “but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re using my son’s freedom as a bargaining chip. You’re simply proving what I already know to be true, the MC and everyone associated with it are a blight on this town.

  I rolled my eyes, biting my tongue to avoid going off-topic by defending my kind. What a bitch. “Where was this moral line in the sand when you asked him to do it in the first place? He’s the one trying to press charges. Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll get nothing more than probation. But you? I hope you have a good PR firm on speed dial. You should consider a career as a smut writer after I ruin your political one, those emails between you and Gellar were fucking gold—”

  “A sexual relationship between consenting adults isn’t illegal,” she shot back.

  “No, but it wasn’t a relationship, was it? Poor Gellar, he probably thought you actually enjoyed his company until you showed him your true colors.”

  “If this town tolerates outlaws having half the local government in their pockets, I doubt they’ll care about what I do in the bedroom. Try again, Mrs. Larter.”

  Challenge accepted. “See, that’s the weird thing about Linwood,” I mused, “it seems like people are fairly open-minded but it’s a small town to the core. Granted, I haven’t lived here long, but I’ve noticed the rumor mill tends to be particularly vicious to women labeled as tramps. Now, I’m no prude. Use it if you’ve got it, honey. But I wonder how your constituents would react to finding out that you did a little tramping around yourself. Actually, a lot of tramping around… Ginger May.”

  As if I’d flipped an invisible switch, her face suddenly turned as white as the morning snow. Her lips parted but nothing came out.

  “Yeah, I know all about your foxy alter ego,” I revealed. “Colorado Springs may be hours away, but the internet knows no borders. I’ve gotta say, legitimate escort services are really up on their digital recordkeeping these days, it’s pretty impressive. Did you know some of your old clients kept their own records too? I tracked down emails and videos from five of them in a matter of hours. Let’s just say they put you in very compromising positions and I don’t just mean that figuratively.”

  By now her eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. “You’re lying.”

  I pulled out my phone, found one of the more damaging videos, and held it up for her to see. “This one’s my favorite. I definitely took you for the fetish type, but getting fucked in a latex nun outfit while getting your ass stuffed with a crucifix? Oh boy. I really don’t think that’ll go over well with your religious supporters. Isn’t the mayor Catholic? And come to think of it… his position is your ultimate goal in the next election, isn’t it?”

  “I… That’s not…What are you going to do?” she stuttered.

  “Mmm, I don’t know yet. I’d really hate to have to make these public be
cause I’m not a huge fan of slut shaming, but I guess it depends on you. Don’t look so sad, at least you’re dealing with me instead of my husband. I tend to be a little less temperamental.”

  Backed into a corner, she gave in. “I’ll ask Mike to reinstate the license.”

  “And?”

  “And there won’t be a criminal investigation.”

  “And?”

  She sighed and pulled out a checkbook from her purse. “Will three thousand cover the window?”

  “Twenty.”

  She glared at me with disgust. “Are you out of your mind? I don’t even have that much. Three thousand is being generous.”

  “I got into your emails, what makes you think I didn’t check your bank accounts while I was at it? That’s only a third of your savings, I think I’m the one being generous here.”

  “Ten,” she countered.

  “You’re in no position to negotiate,” I pointed out. “I can make the videos go viral in five minutes. Twenty thousand in cash delivered to the clubhouse by the end of the day or the price goes up and I start leaking them one-by-one. You’ll also stop talking shit about your daughter all around town and stay out of her life if that’s what she wants. Same goes for Gellar. Don’t play with me, Jan. I’m a patient woman, but if you keep pushing your luck I’ll fucking bury you.”

  Her eyes started watering. “Fine,” she finally mustered out.

  I stepped to the side, smiled, and waved toward the street. “Have a nice day, Councilwoman. Pleasure doing business with you.”

  She clutched her purse and raced down the stairs so fast I thought she’d face-plant.

  I probably should have felt bad for extorting her, there was nothing wrong with whatever floated her kinky boat, but I’d had enough experience with hypocrites to know you had to cut them down to size to accomplish anything. It wasn’t about money; it was about coming to a preemptive understanding before she tried to pull this kind of shit again.