“It’s quite obvious that you’re very resourceful, and your interest in art overshadows everything else,” Hazel was saying. “I am impressed that you managed to find out about the show when it was supposed to be secret.”
Hazel was continuously complimenting Maxwell, keeping him off his guard and he was falling for it.
He smiled, proud. “I have a lot of skills, Hazel.” I hated hearing her name on his lips. “I hacked into the phones of a lot of artists around town. It’s how I heard about the show.”
Hazel pulled a mock-impressed face. “Well, like I said, your passion for art is quite apparent. I’m so glad I was able to introduce you to Lisa. It looks like just the break you need.”
Maxwell nodded. “I must say, you’re making a very good argument. If Lisa can set up an exhibition, and I can explain my art, maybe I’ll let Amy live.”
It was exactly what I had hoped to hear. The best way to save someone was to convince the killer that he wasn’t interested in killing anymore. Of course, it wasn’t often that something like this happened and I was skeptical. It sounded like Hazel had persuaded him, but Maxwell was a raving lunatic, and I was wary of believing any sign of victory until I was sure Maxwell was down, and he would stay down.
“I know we can make your journey as a recognized artist worth your while,” Hazel said, and Lisa agreed.
I was pleasantly surprised by how Lisa had jumped in on the game. When I had met her, I hadn’t thought much of her. She had seemed dull and uninspiring – exactly what was needed from art agents, but no one I would ask to have my back. Still, she was risking a lot by stepping up to the plate and helping Hazel distract Maxwell.
I had managed to move toward the back of the crowd. There were two pillars between Maxwell and me, and I couldn’t get to him right away. Not without him noticing – even if I ran. I had to bide my time, wait it out. No matter how hard it was. I glanced at Hazel, making eye contact. She nodded almost imperceptibly, understanding that I was in the best position I could be to take Maxwell out. She only had to distract him a little while longer.
“Of course,” Maxwell said, “it’s all good and well to say that Amy will live. You’re handing me the art exhibition I always wanted, and I’m grateful for that.”
“But?” Hazel asked.
“But you and your boyfriend have gotten involved in my business, you have caused me a great deal of trouble. I can’t let that slide. If I’m going to let Amy go, someone else has to die.”
Maxwell took the gun away from Amy’s temple and pointed it at Hazel. A yelp of terror rippled through the crowd. Maxwell laughed when he heard the small screams.
“You didn’t think you could get away with this, did you? You think you’re so noble by helping everyone around you, but you don’t realize how much trouble you have caused me, and you are going to pay.”
I froze. When Maxwell had held Amy hostage, it had seemed straightforward. I had to get Amy away from him, and the danger would be over. Now that he was pointing the gun at Hazel, I had no idea what to do. I didn’t know if I would be able to get to Maxwell in time before he pulled the trigger. If he shot Hazel, it wouldn’t only be the woman I loved, but it would be my unborn child, too.
Maxwell was still clutching Amy by the shoulder, holding her down on her knees even though the gun wasn’t trained on her anymore. I had hoped that now he wasn’t focusing on her, he would let her go. I wanted one of my gang members to take her away so I would know she was safe.
Maybe Maxwell was keeping her around as a plan B, in case something went wrong. He was the type of man that had contingencies for everything. This was supposed to be the end, but my troubles were only just beginning. Maxwell was set on killing someone. I had thought the battle had been won – he had been convinced that an art gallery set up just for him was the answer. I had been an idiot to think that an insane man would make a sane decision.
Hazel stood very still with the gun trained on her. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking, her expression was blank and her eyes were drained of life. It wasn’t unlike the expression that Amy had worn only a couple of minutes ago. As I stared at her, every moment we had had together since the minute we had met under the bridge flashed before me.
I couldn’t lose her. I couldn’t lose the perfect woman. I had fallen hopelessly in love with Hazel and to lose her would be to die myself.
There was only one thing left to do.
End this.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
It looked like I wasn’t the only one that had decided it was time to bring an end to this. A lot of things happened at the same time, and it was only thanks to reflexes and quick thinking that we got through.
Amy was the one to make the first move. She spun around, still on her knees and elbowed Maxwell in the groin. Since she was a little girl, I had taught Amy to defend herself, that the groin was the most vulnerable place. I couldn’t be prouder that she had remembered it and in a situation of panic had decided to use it.
Maxwell toppled forward, one hand going to his groin, but he clutched onto his gun as if it was a lifeline. I kneeled and grabbed a piece of sculpting stone that had broken off one of the sculptures Maxwell had smashed. It was the size of my hand and a good weight.
I aimed and prayed it would hit the mark. I only had one shot, and if I missed, God knew what Maxwell was going to do with that gun.
I threw the sculpting stone, aiming for Maxwell’s head. Everything moved in slow motion, and I watched as the stone tumbled toward Maxwell. I was filled with horror when the stone missed its mark. Instead of hitting Maxwell in the head, the stone narrowly missed and flew past. But it had come close enough to Maxwell for him to flinch.
He fumbled, unsure now that everything was happening at the same time, and lost his gun. It clattered to the floor. Again, Amy surprised me. She kicked the gun away from Maxwell, far enough away that he couldn’t get it. She scrambled away, and one of the gang members grabbed her and moved her to the back of the crowd where she would be safe.
For the first time since I had heard that Amy had been kidnapped, I felt like I could breathe.
Now that Maxwell was unarmed, I ran toward him and grabbed him by the collar. I wound up my fist and punched him so hard in the face he went slack. I didn’t have time to beat the living shit out of him, even though I wanted nothing more. Instead, I dropped him and turned to Hazel who had sunken to the floor, trembling and crying.
My gang closed in behind me, guns drawn and Maxwell had no way out.
“It’s okay, baby,” I said to Hazel, kneeling in front of her and taking her in my arms. “You’re safe. We are all safe.”
“Where’s Amy?” Hazel asked.
“I’m here,” Amy said behind Hazel.
Hazel spun around and grabbed onto Amy, pulling her onto her lap.
“I’m so sorry,” Hazel cried. “I should have done something to keep you safe – to stop him from taking you.”
Amy and Hazel were clutching onto each other, both crying.
“This isn’t your fault,” Amy said. “I’m not angry with you. I’m just glad we’re all okay.”
I wrapped my arms around both my girls and we sat in a pile of relief, watching the rest of the events unfold. Maxwell had his hands up. Every MC member that surrounded him had a gun trained on his face; still, Maxwell didn’t look nearly as worried as he should have been. His face was smug, his eyes blank.
“This isn’t over,” he said.
Hollis jabbed him in the head with the butt of his gun and Maxwell cowered.
Hollis sneered. “Shut up, dickhead.” He still had an ugly bruise on his face after the attack, and since Maxwell had taken him out when he had been on duty to protect my daughter, Hollis had taken it very personally.
Earl had called for backup, and now that Maxwell was unarmed, and the MC members were in control, he called in the troops. My men put their guns up, unwilling to get into trouble for carrying firearms when they weren’t allowed. They knew
when to let the police take over, and now was one of those times.
“Christopher Maxwell,” Earl said, walking to Maxwell with his badge out. “You are under arrest for fourteen counts of murder, four counts of attempted murder, assault, vandalism, harassment, impersonating an officer, and kidnapping. You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can, and will, be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, the state will provide one for you. Do you understand your rights as I have read them to you?”
It was beautiful to hear Earl reading Maxwell’s rights to him. Maxwell was going to go to jail for a very long time – if the charges against him were anything to go by. He was handcuffed and frog-marched out of the building by three armed officers. I looked at Hazel and Amy who had stopped crying. They were still holding onto each other, but not clutching each other so tightly.
“Logan,” Earl said, coming up to them. “I’m sorry it has taken us this long to get this man off the streets. Without you and your people, we wouldn’t have been able to do it. Naturally, I am willing to overlook a few things.”
I held out my hand, and Earl shook it.
“I am the one that has to thank you,” I said to Earl. “You filled the gaps in a few places. Without you, I wouldn’t have gotten my daughter back.” I looked at Hazel, taking her hand. “And I might have lost a lot more.”
“It looks like we helped each other,” Earl said. “But, I have to get back to being a cop now. Stay out of trouble.”
I grinned. “I can’t make any promises.”
He shook his head, grinning.
I turned to Hazel and kissed her.
Amy slipped her hand into mine. “What are we going to do now, Dad?”
“Now, we are going home.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Hazel
One Year Later
“Are you ready?” Alice asked.
I took a deep breath and blew it out with a shudder. I nodded, even though I wasn’t ready at all. Nerves bunched in my tummy and I felt a little nauseous.
“You look fantastic,” Lisa said. She adjusted my veil and smiled.
Alice and Lisa stood side-by-side and the salmon bridesmaids dresses were perfect. I turned to look in the full-length mirror that Lisa had put in the foyer and looked at myself one last time.
I wore an ivory wedding dress, form-fitting to my waist before it flared out in bunches of tulle. It was perfect – beaded on the bodice with the same beads along the edge. Logan had paid for me to have my hair and makeup professionally done and I felt like a princess.
“I can’t believe this day has come,” Alice said. She was emotional.
“You can’t cry, not after the time it took to do your makeup,” I warned, but I was emotional, too. I hadn’t thought this day would come either.
When I started out my journey as an artist, I had been ready to take on the world alone. I would never have dreamed that the man of my dreams would be the president of an MC gang, that I would become stepmother to a teenage daughter, and that I would have a baby.
And I couldn’t be happier.
“Come, it’s time,” Lisa said, and the music started. She lined up with Alice at the door.
The doors opened, and Alice walked in first. When it was Lisa’s turn, she blew me a kiss before she walked in to the music. I was lost, walking myself down the aisle. Nothing about this wedding was conventional.
Art pieces and sculptures were set around the warehouse in a beautiful exhibition that matched the colors of my wedding theme. Lisa had set up the art gallery especially for me, with chairs in the middle of the room for the guests. Logan was at the makeshift altar, waiting. He had cleaned up very well in a tuxedo that showed off his broad shoulders.
When he saw me, his face changed, our eyes locked, and everyone else fell away. The entire MC was present – there to support and protect us. Alice and Lisa were already at the front along with Logan, Hollis and another one of Logan’s friends. Next, to Logan, Amy stood. Holly bounced happily on Amy’s hip, dressed in the same salmon clothes everyone else in my bridal party was wearing.
My baby girl was seven months old and a ray of light. She had only recently learned, but she had smiled from the start. When she saw me, she cooed and babbled.
I couldn’t believe I was marrying Logan. The past year had been a fairy tale. After Maxwell had been arrested, Logan, Amy, and I moved to a new house – a house where I belonged, too. Amy and I had started doing art together again, and she had become the artist I had always known she would be.
Her art was so good that Hollywood agents were interested in her work. She was in the process of signing a deal with them, and as soon as they did, we would never have to worry about money again.
I had given birth to Holly five months later, and our family was the happiest family I had ever seen – despite Logan being the president of a vicious MC gang, despite the drama that had happened while I had been pregnant.
During the time Maxwell had terrorized the streets of L.A., making artists fear for the lives based on their passions, I had somehow found love and the place where I belonged. Through adversity, we had learned, and together, Logan and I had created a bond that had become unchangeable.
I knew that no matter what came my way, with the four of us standing together, we would get through it.
Logan and I said our vows and exchanged rings. We kissed and were married, husband and wife to face our future together.
We turned around. I looked at our friends, the gang; our family. We were the most unlikely team. I knew that sometimes difficulty would come our way and that we weren’t completely safe. But I also knew that every single one of the people in this room would be there for us when we needed them – the same way we would be there for them when they needed us. I was marrying into a family that had a very strong code of honor.
And with love, trust, and honor, there was no way we could go wrong.
THE END
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Books by Kathryn Thomas
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Brute’s Property: A Motorcycle Club Romance (The Blazers MC) (Claimed By Him Book 3)
She’s mine to use as I please.
That was the deal.
Her body in exchange for her brother’s life.
But now that she belongs to me…
I’m gonna use her ‘til she can't take it anymore.
REV
It’s a savage pleasure to have a woman at my bidding.
To know I own every damn piece of her.
And it’s all mine for the taking.
For the squeezing.
For the biting.
For the f**king.
It didn’t have to be this way.
She could’ve just let me go about my business.
But that would’ve meant seeing her brother dead on the floor, with my bullet in the back of his head.
She wasn’t ready for that.
So she did the only thing she could:
She took his place.
But I wasn’t about to put a beauty like that in the dirt.
No, this one was coming home with me.
She’s my property now.
JENNA
I knew my brother was in trouble.
I just didn't know that he was in six-foot-four, two-hundred-and-fifty pounds of tattooed biker hitman trouble.
I can try and ignore Mark's drug problem all I want.
But there's no ignoring the chaos it's brought to our doorstep:
A killer sitting in the living room...
With a loaded gun aimed square between my eyes.
I'll do anything to protect my brother from the drug dealer hell-bent on ending his life.
I just didn't expect to have to protect myself from falling f
or the weapon sent to destroy him…
But I’m his from the moment he sees me.
Bad Boy’s Property: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Lost Disciples MC)
Reaper’s Property_A Motorcycle Club Romance_Valley Reapers MC Page 16