“Do you think that owl chewed it off? Or just found it lying around?” Blade asked. Blade’s super tall and skinny as a rail, which is how he got his name. He’s a pussy-hound, always chasing some new tail and never settling down with just one girl, much like Ziggy. He’s tough as a tiger, though, and he moves like a cat, always slinking around and sneaking up behind you, before you even know he’s there.
“I thought owls only ate rats and rabbits, little rodents and shit,” Crow said.
“Me, too,” I said.
Crow’s cool. He’s quiet and calm and doesn’t talk much, though. Watchful and observant, he’s got these dark eyes that seem to peer right through you when he turns them on you. My old man liked him, too. Took him under his wing, showed him the ropes himself after Crow’s old man got thrown in prison.
Asher was good like that. He had a knack for picking guys that needed a little bit of mentoring, a little guidance. Gentle and kind, he’d always been a good teacher, not just to me and Eli, but to Fury, too, and most of the other guys, as well. I’d been proud to call him ‘Dad’. I was still proud, even if he was now in prison for shooting his brother, Rebel.
What a shit show that was.
Dad came home and found Uncle Rebel assaulting his girlfriend. He drew his gun and the bullet went straight through Rebel and hit Dad’s girl, too. Not only did he lose the two closest people in his life, he lost his freedom. Along with that went his pride. His humiliation was so great, he still won’t even let Eli or I visit him. We keep hoping he’ll change his mind someday. In the meantime, we’ve done what we can to salvage our club. Encouraging our guys to join up with the Gods with us was the least we could do to make up for Asher pulling the rug out from under us all.
So far, so good. With each passing day, the Gods feel more like home.
CHAPTER 4
RIOT
The deeper we went into the forest behind the clubhouse, the darker it got. I cursed myself for not grabbing a flashlight.
“We might need to turn back, the sun’s going down fast,” I said to Wreck. He walked steadily beside me, his watchful eyes raking over the thick blanket of brush on either side of us.
My respect for Wreck is through the roof. When he’d first joined up with us, he was young and I was a little skeptical. But he’s Ryder’s nephew, so I kept my mouth shut. Damn good thing I’d done so, or I’d be eating my words now.
Wreck was a man of loyalty, a man of substance. Hell, he was still young, compared to my quickly aging ass, but he’d matured so quickly after everything happened with Frankie. That whole thing had taken his ego down a notch, but they’d made it through and come out the other side looking like a couple of saints. Hell, if it wasn’t for Frankie, and her beyond generous support, none of us would be here. She’d inherited so much money from that awful husband of hers and she’d been determined to put it to good use. And yet, even though she and Wreck could have easily run off to paradise somewhere, knowing they were doing a good thing just by sponsoring Solid Ground, they’d stayed. They’d stayed to help out, wherever they could. Neither of them were afraid to get their hands dirty and that’s how they’d earned my immense respect.
“Just a little further,” he murmured, his concentration unbreakable.
“A fucking finger, I can’t believe it,” Fury said. Fury was huge and strong and he’d proven himself to be a valuable member of Solid Ground already. He’d stepped up and helped Grace out with a case recently that involved a couple of kids and done a great job making sure everyone stayed safe.
“Definitely a first,” I replied. “Oliver’s brought us a lot of gifts, but never anything human.”
“Did you see the fingernail? Painted bright pink,” Stryker said. Stryker reminds me of a young Steven Tyler. He’s ripped but skinny, with long black hair and bright blue eyes and a big smile that he flashes every chance he gets. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a happier biker, outside of Slade.
“Gotta be a woman,” Shadow said, his voice deep and booming through the forest. Shadow’s huge, like Incredible Hulk huge. His biceps are the size of my head and every visible inch of his skin is covered in tattoos of scary things — monsters, devils, demons. He lumbers through the forest like a bull, with absolutely no grace or swagger at all. He’s funny, though, and from what I can tell so far, really smart, despite his slow and deliberate speech pattern.
“What are we going to do if we find a body?” Wolfe asked, taking up the rear as we trailed through the forest like a pride of lions. Wolfe’s a man’s man. He’s strong and serious and always the first to help out when I need something. He looks a little like a scruffy George Clooney, a perpetual five o’clock shadow darkening his square cut jaw.
“That’s a good question,” I replied, shrugging. “Fortunately, that’s not for us to decide. We’ll leave that up to the boss.”
“Ryder?” Stryker asked.
“No way,” I laughed and shook my head.
“Right,” Wolfe said. “Grace.”
“That’s the one,” Wreck said, giving a thumbs up. There’s no mistaking who runs Solid Ground. We don’t make a move without Grace’s approval.
Overhead, a whoosh of fluttering wings breezed by before making a landing on a branch.
“It’s Oliver,” Wreck said.
“Yep,” I replied, as he flew away again, disappearing deeper into the forest.
“Looks like we’re headed in the right direction,” Wreck whispered.
“God, I hope not,” I said, the light dimming with every step.
CHAPTER 5
SLADE
We circled around the west side of the Gods’ property and met back up in the back with Riot and his crew.
“Find anything?” I asked.
“Nope,” he said. “It’s getting dark fast. Maybe we should wait till morning.”
Nate and his guys appeared behind Riot, and the whole lot of us stood staring at each other.
“Well, what now?” Nate said. “We covered the entire length of the front of the property.”
“We’ll look again tomorrow,” Riot said. “Not much more we can do.”
“Let’s head back out around the trail by the front gate, since nobody covered that, and then head back,” I said.
“Sounds good to me,” Riot said.
We started down the trail in single file, the crunching of the pine needles under our boots bouncing off the trees. I wanted to make a joke, make everyone laugh, like I always did, but something about this whole fucking finger thing wasn’t sitting right with me.
And being out in the creepy damned forest with it getting darker by the second wasn’t helping either. The hair on the back of my neck stood up and I swallowed hard, my pace picking up a little. I don’t know why I was feeling like such a pussy, but my gut was telling me something was terribly wrong.
If there was a body in this forest, I didn’t want to see it.
Sure, I was playing around with the finger but that was just a finger, you know? I half imagined it wasn’t real, like some Halloween prop or something. An entire body was a whole different thing.
And a chick? No way, man, count me the fuck out.
With each step the voices of all the other guy’s died down. Soon, the faint chirping of far-away birds and the constant crunch, crunch, crunch of lumbering boots were the only sounds to be heard as we clamored on.
“Whoo-whoooo!” A call broke through the tension and Riot nodded to me.
“Sounds like Oliver,” he said.
“Or Olivia,” Wreck said. “Who can tell them apart?”
“Olivia’s smaller, but her eyes are a little bigger,” Riot said. “But they sound just alike.”
“I really hope there’s not a fucking body, man,” I said. “I promised Diana I’d be back home before Jeremiah goes to bed.”
“You and me both, brother,” Riot said. We trudged along in the direction of the owl’s calls, the trees breaking open into a small clearing and we all stopped dead in our tracks on
e at a time, each of us noticing the outstretched hand one by one and slamming into the guy in front of them.
If it wasn’t such a horror story, it might have been funny.
But nothing about this was funny.
In fact, this was a handful of terror.
Or, at least four fingers worth. The hand jutted up from the ground, the long middle finger missing completely.
“Fuck!” Wreck cried.
“Goddammit,” I muttered, shaking my head, my stomach turning.
“I was really hoping we’d never find an explanation,” Riot said. “Slade, call Grace and Ryder.”
“What are we going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Who would have done this?” I asked, my eyes locked on the dirty fingers, reaching up to the trees for help that never came. “And just left her here?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Riot said, shaking his head slowly. “Whoever it is, they might still be here.”
“Fuck,” I said, my eyes darting around in the darkness. The sun had set completely now, leaving us in near pitch darkness.
“Just watch your back,” he murmured, before turning to the other guys. “Nobody touch anything.”
“What about her?” I asked.
“By the looks of that hand, I’d say there’s not much we can do to help her now.”
“Yeah,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t believe some of the fuckers in this world.”
“You, of all people, know the world’s a fucked up place, Slade,” Riot said.
“Yeah, well, I don’t see this shit every day man,” I said. “And besides, you know I have a tender heart, dude.”
“Take your tender heart and go call Grace and Ryder,” he said, laughing softly.
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “I gotta get out of these trees to get service. I’ll be right back.” The trails leading out of the clearing, through the forest and out to the dirt road that led to the clubhouse, were lit solely by moonlight. I made my way in the dark, wondering why the hell I’d neglected to bring one of the other guys with me.
They were all too busy gawking at the sight of a hand sticking up out of a shallow grave. And I’ll admit it. I just wanted to get the fuck away from that body.
With each step, the forest grew quieter and darker. The road was ahead. I knew these trails like the back of my hand. But to get there, I’d have to trek through a good amount of dense woods.
Just after sunset, the sweet smelling Oregon air chills to a thick, heavy bloom that penetrates your skin, sinking into your bones until the merciful rays of sunlight appear the next morning.
Tonight was no exception.
The fact that I was unable to see my breath on this particular night was remarkable in itself. Never mind that it’s already late Spring. The Pacific Northwest doesn’t adhere to normal seasonal patterns. Without the small amounts of sunlight we experience, we’d all surely lose our minds.
Some do anyway. Like whoever left the body of a woman discarded like an unwanted animal back there. I was shaking like a leaf by the time I made it to the road, despite my best efforts to man the fuck up.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket as I reached the edge of the tree line. My boots hit the dusty road and I checked the bars on my phone. Thank goodness for technology.
I dialed Ryder’s number, my back to the woods as I waited for him to answer. The snap of a twig sounded behind me and my breath caught in my throat as I realized I wasn’t alone. I pulled the phone away from my ear and slowly turned around, peering through the darkness and back into the trees.
“Who’s there?” I asked, my heart pounding like a drum, Riot’s words running through my head. ‘They might still be here…’
Another snap — a branch this time, deeper in the trees.
“Look, motherfucker, I’m not playing around,” I growled, blindly searching the darkness, my fist clenching at my sides. I took a step forward towards the sound, reluctantly inching back into the darkness of the towering trees. “Who’s there, goddammit?”
A movement flashed to my right and I whipped my head around, a shadow falling across a tree trunk.
“Riot? Wreck?” I called. “If this is your idea of being funny, you can cut it the fuck —.”
Out of the darkness flew a blur of flailing limbs and ribbons of stringy hair, dirt-streaked skin and wide, wild eyes — all flying towards me in a flash of fear and shock so quickly that I wasn’t completely sure whether it was animal or human at first.
“What the fuck?” I cried out, throwing up my hands to protect me as fingers clutched at my biceps, terror-filled eyes searching mine.
“Help me,” she whispered, before crumbling to the ground at my feet. I stared down at her, my jaw fallen with disbelief.
“Holy shit!” I whispered, reaching for her. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” I fell to my knees, embracing her shivering body. Covered only by a ripped sundress, she had to be freezing.
“How long have you been out here? You’re okay, I promise, I won’t hurt you. Shh…”
I let go of her and stood up, ripping off my cut and then pulling off my t-shirt, throwing it over her bare shoulders and wishing like hell I’d worn a jacket so I could give her that, too.
“You must be freezing,” I whispered. She leaned into me, nodding as I wrapped my arms around her.
“Let’s get you inside.”
I helped her to her feet and slowly, we headed back down the trail together.
CHAPTER 6
GRACE
She was young. Mid-twenties, maybe.
Now that she’d bathed, the mud washed from her skin and the twigs untangled from her long blonde hair, she had that fresh-faced look that defined Oregon wholesomeness. Her limbs were strong and toned, possibly the result of hours of hot yoga in a trendy studio in NW Portland, if she was anything like other girls her age.
She certainly looked the part of the typical Oregon girl, as long as you looked past the various scratches on her forehead and arms, the mud caked deep under her fingernails, and the dead, empty, haunted eyes.
She stared back at us as if she’d died.
As much as I knew it was strongly discouraged, I let her bathe. When Slade walked up to the clubhouse with her, she was violently shivering from the cold. I ran a hot bath and led her to it, leaving all the questions for later.
The Gods had gone into those woods looking for answers and they’d somehow managed to come out with a situation that warranted a hell of a lot more questions.
Now, we had a frightened girl and a dead body to go with it.
I was certain they were connected.
Cherry, insisting warm soup was in order, was the only person I allowed into the cabin with us. I’d assured everyone waiting outside of the door that I would update them as soon as I was able to.
In the meantime, after Cherry left the steaming crockpot full of her homemade chicken noodle soup on the counter, I quietly watched the girl devour cup after cup. She wore an old Gods of Chaos sweatshirt and a pair of my jeans that fit her perfectly.
“How long have you been out there?” I asked, gently.
Her eyes were wide and green and reminded me so much of my own at her age, before the wrinkles had begun to form around the edges. But I recognized something more in those eyes — a darkness that had settled in after the realities of life had found their way behind them, dimming the sparkle of innocence.
A darkness that is impossible to ignore once you’ve witnessed it.
It changes everything.
Every ounce of my soul yearned to turn her light back on.
But that wasn’t up to me. That would be up to her, years from now, in a place far away from this moment.
“What’s your name?” I asked. “I’m Grace.” I’d already told her my name, but she was only half there.
She paused, blinking at me.
I took a deep breath, waiting silently, holding space for her to speak on her own. With sh
aking hands, she brought the spoon up to her mouth again, letting the silky soup slide between her cracked lips. I smiled at her gently, nodding slightly and leaning back in my seat, willing to give her as much time as she needed.
The voice in the back of my head told me I needed to hurry.
What I really needed to do was call the police. In fact, I should have done that long ago, before I’d allowed her to wash away any potential evidence, before I’d allowed the others to congregate silently outside the door, forcing them to wait before acting.
Not only was this girl in need of assistance, there was a dead body to attend to in the woods.
The police should be called, without a doubt, right away.
But still, I hesitated.
I sat there, my heart beating steady and strong, my eyes gently assuring the woman in front of me that she was safe, even if she didn’t want to talk. My thoughts raced to what lie ahead for her.
Not just endless questions, but invasive medical exams, blinding lights and rough, probing hands, harsh accusations, judging eyes and most likely — blame. Maybe they wouldn’t say it outright, but the eyes give it all away. Cops can’t help it. They’re immune to empathy, to being human, to seeing the basic humanity that connects us all.
They reduce us all to a book of laws and obedience and your willingness to play within the rules decides your worth.
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