Stop it, I told myself. Think positive. Don’t manifest the bad shit.
When a knock sounded at the door, I jumped like I’d been shot. I was so on-edge that I was on the verge of fainting, my stomach filled with butterflies, my palms sweating.
“Come in,” I called, my voice shaking, along with my hands. But when I saw the face and warm smile of the woman that walked in the door, all of that went away. She was tiny, blonde and had the clearest, kindest green eyes I’d ever seen.
“Vanessa, I’m Grace,” she whispered, reaching out her hand. I grabbed it and shook it slowly. “We’re going to get you out of here. Are you ready?”
With wide eyes, I nodded slowly, gripping my bag to my side.
“Okay, good,” she said, her voice as clear and calm as her eyes. “Here’s what’s going to happen. It’s very simple really. Is that man outside the only person who came with you today?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“Good. We’re going to usher you out a back door. There’s a man out back named Ryder. He’s waiting for you. Go with him and he’ll keep you safe. I’ll be right behind you and we’ll talk as soon as we get to a safe place. Sound good?”
“Yes, thank you so much,” I gushed, trying to push away my nerves.
“There’s plenty of time for thanking me later. You’re very brave, Vanessa. We’re going to help you,” she said, her pale green eyes staring into mine, full of reassurance and confidence.
I nodded and tried to smile back, but I’m sure it looked more like a painful grimace. I wanted this so badly - to escape - but I had never been more nervous in my life. Tears stung my eyes.
“Okay, Vanessa, don’t talk and quietly follow me - let’s go,” she said, opening the door. I followed her down another hallway that led away from the waiting room. She opened a locked door at the end of it, which opened up into another, shorter hallway. We walked down it, our heels echoing off the linoleum floor. She opened one last door and then we were outside in an alley behind the building, the rain falling around us. It was barely past noon, but the clouds overhead were stormy and gray, throwing a dark overcast over the city.
I looked to my right and right up into a pair of the darkest blue eyes I’d ever seen. This man was even bigger than the guy inside, his long black hair framing a very handsome, very rugged face.
“Hi, there! I’m Ryder,” the man said, his voice low and gruff. “Come with me.”
I looked behind me and Grace had disappeared, the door firmly closed behind her. A black SUV was waiting behind him. He opened the door and I slid into the backseat.
Ryder stayed outside, standing just outside of my door. I turned my head and saw there were two other men in the car. One was sitting behind the wheel and the other was right next to me in the backseat.
“Hi, Vanessa, I’m Riot,” the one next to me said. I nodded, struck with awe. He was younger than Ryder, his arms slathered in tattoos. A huge black beard was hanging down from his handsome face.
“H-h-hello,” I said, my eyes darting around quickly with anxiety.
“Of course you’re nervous,” he said, nodding slowly. “Don’t worry. We’ll be out of here in no time. Grace, Lacey and Slade will be along in just a moment, and then we’ll be off.”
“Okay, th-thank you, Riot,” I said, looking at him gratefully.
“And that’s Wreck up there,” he said, gesturing towards the driver.
Wreck, Riot, Slade, Ryder, I thought, what kind of names are those?
The driver turned around to greet me and our eyes collided. I gasped out loud when I saw his face. His face was scarred, an angry red line cutting right down his cheek. Worry lines cut deep into his rugged skin. But those eyes - dark gray, the color of the cloudy Oregon sky overhead - I could swear I’d seen them before.
But it couldn’t be, I thought.
They couldn’t be the same eyes I’d stared into countless times before, the same eyes that had haunted me for the last ten years, the same eyes that I’d fallen deeply in love with so long ago that it seemed like a dream sometimes.
“Hey,” he said, lifting his chin, and then turning away. “Nice to meet you.”
My mind raced, trying to make sense of it all while I stared at the back of his head. Was this even possible? Surely I must be mistaken. There’s no way in hell this could be that big of a coincidence.
There’s no way in hell that’s Jesse, I thought. That would be absurd. It’s the stress, I’m just overwhelmed.
I swallowed hard, catching his eye in the rearview mirror. He smiled and my heart flipped. His smile looked just like the same crooked grin I’d kissed a million times.
No, it couldn’t be!
“Are you okay, Vanessa?” Riot said, a look of concern falling across his face.
“Um, yeah,” I muttered, trying to shake away the bewilderment. This was no time for me to fall apart.
Yeah, that’s it, I thought. I’m just loosing it, that’s all. I’m not thinking clearly, yeah that’s it, the stress, of course. I shook my head, dismissing my insanity and turned away from them both, staring out the window as Grace walked out, followed by the blonde girl from the front desk and the man that was sitting in the waiting room.
They jumped in the car, followed by Ryder, and as soon as all the doors closed, Wreck hit the gas and we were speeding down the alley, away from my nightmare, away from Royce, away from Travis, away from the death sentence that my father had unknowingly bestowed upon me.
I looked up at Wreck one more time and saw that his gray eyes were focused hard on the road in front of him as the SUV sped down the streets of downtown Portland and headed West on the 26.
I had no idea where we were going, but I didn’t care - as long as it was far away from the nightmare I’d been living.
CHAPTER SIX
Wreck
The sound of the SUV’s wheels hitting the gravel of the road that led to the clubhouse was like music to my ears. I think we all breathed a deep sigh of relief once we were off the main road and headed to our private sanctuary, hidden deep in the forest.
After a few minutes of winding through the trees, we pulled up to the cabin and I cut the engine. Vanessa hadn’t said much on the trip out of the city, silently staring out the window, wringing her hands in her lap. Grace and the rest of our crew had let the silence settle around us, letting her get her bearings and process her feelings at her own pace.
She’s gotta be terrified, I thought. This Randolph asshole sounded like a total fucking piece of shit. She was such a pretty girl, it was a shame she’d had such a hard life.
“Where are we?” she asked, her voice haltingly quiet as she stared wide-eyed at all of our bikes parked in front of the cabin.
“This is the Gods of Chaos Motorcycle Club clubhouse,” Ryder answered.
“Also known as Solid Ground’s headquarters,” Grace answered.
“Bikers?” she asked.
“Yeah, we’re bikers,” Riot answered. “But we’re so much more than that, too.”
“I know it’s a lot to take in, Vanessa,” Grace said, “but I assure you that you are totally safe here with us. Let’s just get you settled, then we’ll talk.”
“Okay, right,” she said, her eyes darting around, trying to take it all in. I could only imagine what she must think. We all hopped out of the car and Grace walked her inside, gently guiding her to the back bedroom that used to be Ryder’s room, but had now been transformed into a comfortable guest room for the women Solid Ground rescued.
I watched them walk away, finding myself entranced by the way she moved, the way her hips swayed with each step, the way her blonde hair swung across her back. Riot caught me staring and punched me in the arm.
“Don’t stare like that, Wreck. This girl deserves respect right now.”
“I wasn’t —,” I began to protest.
“Whatever, dude, I’m not stupid. I’m just saying, give her some space.”
“Dude, I —,” I began again, but he walked
away with Lacey, leaving me standing outside the cabin with my mouth open.
For fuck’s sake, I thought. I’d never in a million years be disrespectful to a woman. Riot’s assumptions pissed me off but I knew better than to say anything. He was just trying to train me to be an efficient member of Solid Ground and I had to respect that, too.
I knew I still had an awful lot of proving myself to these guys and that was fine by me.
I wasn’t about to go chasing any skirts, anyway. That was the last thing on my mind and had been ever since I lost Frankie. There were times I was sure I’d never get over her, and so far, that fact had proven true.
I still had the memories and that would have to be enough. Always had been, and I figured it always would be.
This girl was intriguing to me, that was all. It wasn’t attraction. Sure, maybe I was drawn to her, but I’d barely said two words to her, so it was really just an initial interest in her story.
That was all. Nothing less, nothing more.
I’d prove myself to all of them - Riot, Grace, Ryder - everyone. They’d see I could be a good man.
They’d see how strong I could be.
I just had to keep marching.
I walked to my tiny room and closed the door, leaving the sound of murmuring voices behind. I sat down on my bed and sighed, letting my head fill with images of the past, letting the feelings wash over me once again. I did this often. Maybe too often.
But fuck, I missed her so much.
I opened the bedside drawer and pulled out an old picture. It was creased, the edges yellowing and folding at the corners, but it was all I had.
Frankie’s beautiful young face smiled up at me, her arms wrapped around her equally beautiful mother at her side. Rays of sunlight streamed through their flowing black locks, their smiles identical and beaming at the camera as they laughed at some shared joke.
I’d never seen such beautiful women since and every single time I looked at this picture, I felt grateful to have known Frankie. I’d never met her mother. She died before I met Frankie, but this picture told me everything I needed to know about the two of them. The love they had for each other poured through.
I’d spent countless nights staring at this picture, wondering if they were together now somewhere. The concept of heaven was extremely hard for my bitter agnostic heart to wrap around, but if there was something like that, I sure hoped they’d found each other.
Frankie was a good girl, she deserved that.
I’d spent all this time doing my damnedest at keeping her memory alive, drowning in love for her, it almost felt like I’d put my life on hold, hoping she’d come back.
But she wasn’t coming back. Not ever.
I shuddered as the sound of the explosion haunted me once more. I’d never forget that sound - the smells, the screams ripping from my throat.
I’d say that it was the worst night of my life, but the reality is that things just kept getting worse and worse after that. Having Frankie torn from my life was awful, but living all these years without her had proven to be the greatest torture of all.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Vanessa
If it wasn’t for Grace and her incredibly soothing voice telling me over and over that everything was going to be okay, I would have been a huge mess.
As it was, I was eerily calm. Maybe I was just shut down. Maybe I’d built this day up in my head over and over so often that I’d desensitized myself to it.
It had all gone so smoothly that it was almost unbelievable.
But here I was. Free from Royce’s bullshit. Free from his twisted, sick mind. By now, he knew I was gone. Travis had probably lost his shit completely once he realized I’d slipped out. Once again, I wished I had been there to witness it. They were both such arrogant pricks, they thought they could do no wrong. I felt a huge sense of satisfaction that I’d finally found a way out of their clutches. I could only imagine how pissed off they both were.
However, this was only the beginning. Pissing them off was just the icing on my cupcake. I was going to bring their demented asses down so hard, they wouldn’t know what hit them.
Like my escape, I needed help with this, too. And after seeing the group gathered around the big wooden table in a dark room that Grace had called the War Room, I was having mixed feelings. These guys were huge, scary and intimidating. But bikers?
I had no doubt they could rip Royce in half, but I wasn’t sure if they were the right people to do the job of bringing down a handful of power-drunk multimillionaires. That’s not to say I wasn’t willing to let them try. I’d try anything at this point.
“Vanessa, now that you’ve had a little time to settle in, I think it’s best to start with you telling us everything you know about Randolph. After that, I can fill you in a little more with what we do and what kind of help we can offer you. Are you comfortable with that?”
“Yes,” I replied, my voice sounding weaker than I wanted it to. I took a long, slow, deep breath, summoning the courage to form the words and sentences that had been spinning in my head for years. “First of all, I just want to say thank you so much for helping me. I never could have gotten away on my own. Receiving your number from Diana that day at the news station changed everything. Up until then, I wasn’t sure how I’d ever get away from Royce.” I stared around the table at them, their eyes all turned to me and filled with such kindness and compassion. I hadn’t been looked at like that since my father was alive and it moved me to tears. I blinked hard, biting my lip, trying to figure out where to begin.
“Royce Randolph killed my father. After he killed him, he kidnapped me and forced me to marry him. He was a monster, from the very beginning. I was still a kid, almost eighteen, but I soon figured out that even I was too old for him. He married me because he needed a cover, a wife to legitimize his image, an alibi when he didn’t have one. But he underestimated me. He thought I was weak. He thought I was stupid. But I’m not. I paid attention from the very beginning, figuring out that something was very wrong very quickly. At first, maybe I was weak, I was naive, I was scared - so I went along with him, I believed him when he told me that my father had given me to him before Royce killed him.”
I swallowed hard before continuing, images of my father flooding my mind. Dad, laughing and dancing with me in the kitchen. Dad, teaching me to scuba dive in Hawaii, a snorkel attached to his face as he dove in the water, pretending to be a shark. Dad and Mom, kissing each other in the rose garden outside of our house, long before she was diagnosed. I shook my head, refusing to get lost in those memories.
“Over the years, the truth became crystal clear. I guess because he thought I was so stupid and weak, he allowed himself to be open around me. He wasn’t discreet at all - he’d make phone calls in the same room as me - planning orgies and sex parties with his friends all within earshot. He made no pretense of being faithful to our fake marriage - in fact, he never touched me, thank God. But I quickly learned the reason why. I was way too old for him. The girls he uses are the youngest he can find. Twelve to sixteen or so. It’s disgusting.”
“What a fucking pig,” Ryder muttered under his breath. I nodded in agreement.
“He’s heartless. Cold, calculating, manipulative. He has a knack for finding rich, powerful men that share his sick perverted fetishes and he gives them access to these girls in exchange for favors. They come from all walks of life. Politicians, prosecutors, judges even. Real estate developers, CEO’s, doctors. Royce built a network of these people, collecting them, if you will, along with their secrets, so that if they didn’t provide the favors he needed, he had such damning evidence against them, they’d give him anything he wanted in the end. He’s a snake of the lowest kind. He has no regard for anyone in his life but himself. He’s greedy and relentless. But he’s also arrogant and cocky. And it’s this arrogance that allowed me to easily collect all the information that I did. He didn’t think I’d dig. But I did.”
I paused, taking another deep breath b
efore quickly continuing.
“Most of the parties take place in hotels or Royce’s houses all around the country. He has sex parties, orgies, and arranges one-on-one encounters for the men as well. There’s also his island.”
“He has an island?” Riot asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.
“Yes, it’s located between the Decatur and Lopez Islands in the archipelago of the one hundred and seventy islands that make up the San Juan Islands. It’s his own private perverted paradise. He keeps dozens of girls living there, making them available to his friends anytime they want. Usually, they’re flown there on his private jet where he holds lavish, decadent parties that cater to their every whim. Most of their whims happen to be sex with young girls.”
“Where does he get his money?” Slade asked.
“He’s an investment advisor. He counsels the richest of the rich on where to put their money. Usually, that means most of it goes right in his pocket.”
“Where does he get the girls?” Riot asked.
“Lots of different places. Mostly, he buys them from other traffickers, they get passed around a lot. Sometimes, he sends people out to recruit them - picks up runaways at train stations or off the streets. Brings them back, cleans them up and gives them lots of empty promises, if they’ll just be nice to his friends. Most of the time, the girls have nowhere else to go. They’re just kids, really.”
“You were just a kid, too,” Grace said gently. I met her gaze and tears sprang to my eyes again.
“Yes, I know,” I said, swallowing hard. “But I’m not anymore. I want to help these girls. I want to bring Royce and his friends down. I hate the fact that I haven’t done anything. All these years!” I exclaimed, my voice rising, anger rushing through my veins. Anger at Royce, but also anger at myself. “I wish I had done something sooner.”
WRECKED: GODS OF CHAOS MC, BOOK FOUR Page 5