by Zoey Parker
I wondered as I played hand after hand whether I could make a life here, among them. I saw myself doing what they did—taking care of the guys, just not sexually. I would only be Vince’s. Would I be expected to do the other things they did, as an old lady? Fetching drinks and changing sheets? Or would being the old lady of the club president give me special privileges?
I wouldn’t want them, I decided, even if Vince and I got together for the long haul. I wasn’t any better than anyone there. I finally realized that, and it gave me a sense of peace.
“I’m out,” I finally said. I’d played three hands and won one of them. To my happy surprise, the men cheered for me. Wow, I thought. I actually feel like a part of something. Maybe we all needed to feel that way. Now I understood the pull this lifestyle had. It really was like one big family. As an only child, it was seductive.
“You sure?” Brett looked concerned. “Honey, he’ll be back soon. I’m sure of it.”
“I know, I know. I just…I’m a little antsy is all. I can’t concentrate on the cards.”
Sam patted my back. “I’ll make you a mug of my world-famous hot chocolate,” she offered. “It’ll help you feel better.”
I doubted that a cup of hot chocolate could do so much, but I couldn’t help smiling. “That would be super. I’ll be in the office.” I went inside and shut the door behind me, then sat down at the desk.
I couldn’t shake the foreboding. Even as I sat at the poker table, laughing, it was always in the back of my mind. Something’s coming. Something bad. It’ll never be like this again.
I had never paid attention to superstition or curses of the world of the unseen. I did believe there was a force working behind the scenes, but I didn’t get much deeper than that. So why couldn’t I get rid of the feeling that we were all in danger? Why did I feel like I’d never see Vince again?
I was feeling particularly morbid by that point, and I opened the laptop to get another look at my pictures. Something inside told me to take a look at the person who chased me.
There he was, looking just as he had that night. Just as he did in my dream. I shuddered at the memory. What had it meant? That was another thing. I wasn’t the type to have vivid dreams. But I felt like this one meant something. I just didn’t know what.
I stared at the picture, focused on the Wolf. If luck was ever going to be on our side, Vince would have found whoever he was by then. I prayed he had, and that it would help us somehow. We needed a little help, for heaven’s sake.
I started flipping through the images, looking carefully at them. I remembered taking them like it just happened. I could feel the cool air, could smell the dank stench of the air in the alley. The wall I leaned against was cold. It was so dark. Water dripped from some unseen place. I heard it plinking against the ground.
I heard the voices, too. The voice of the man defending himself, saying it wasn’t right, what they were doing. He never wanted things to go that far. He was the tall, slim man with the Fury Riders kutte. He was Lance.
Poor Lance. He did look scared, I realized as I went through the images. He knew he was in trouble. I remembered from what I overheard that he felt guilty, and he must have known something was going to happen when he pushed back at the Vicious Wolves.
He had done something wrong when he went against his club, yeah, but he had been brave in the end. He was all alone with the man who would kill him just moments later.
Only…was he alone?
As I went through the images, I noticed something I’d missed before.
Someone.
I heard the door to the office open and close, and assumed it was Sam. But I ignored her, transfixed by what I saw on the monitor.
In the shadows, just beyond Lance and the Wolf who killed him, a man. He stood and watched the two of them as they talked. He stood there, unmoving from one photo to the next. He didn’t do anything to stop what happened. Was he a guard for the Wolves?
He’d stepped out of the shadows just a little toward the end of the series of photos, until the light hit his face.
His scarred face.
“No.” It was the only word I was able to say before the chloroform-soaked cloth covered my mouth and nose.
I struggled for a minute, holding my breath, fighting Onyx with all my might. It was useless. He was so strong, his arms were like iron bands around me.
I was frantic. Now it all made sense. It was him. He let me get away so the Wolves would catch me. That was why he didn’t like me. That was why he stayed behind to watch over us. He was waiting for this. Poor Vince. He never saw this coming, any more than I did. How would he feel when he knew?
My lungs felt like they were about to burst. I had to take a breath. As soon as I did, the world started to go foggy. Oh, Vince. I’m sorry.
Onyx’s breath was hot on my ear. “Couldn’t stay out of it, could you?”
They were the last words I heard before everything went black.
Chapter Twenty-One
Vince
I remembered the first time I ever rode on the back of a motorcycle. I used to see them in my neighborhood, growing up. Mom’s face would always screw up when she saw them pass by, the men on the backs of their bikes. I learned then and there, without her ever having to say so, that men who rode in gangs were bad news. They weren’t good people. My brain made the association, and it stuck.
The older I got, the better I knew. Mom was right. They intimidated people on the street, started fights in bars. Eventually, they were asked to stay away from the bars, period. Then, rumors flew about the local club being involved with drugs somehow. They were bringing them into the neighborhood, putting dope in the hands of kids. They were mean and violent. They didn’t care how their actions affected the people around them, people who worked hard and paid their taxes. Whenever police dragged a body in from the river or found one in an alley or ditch, they blamed the club. Even if it was a random homeless person or something totally unrelated to the club, everybody wanted to believe the bad guys who rode motorcycles around the neighborhood had something to do with it.
Then I rode my first bike, and I was hooked. Mom died long before then, so the guilt went with her. Sometimes I still wondered what she would think of me if she saw the person I had become. Would her face screw up in distaste, the way it had when the gangs would ride down our block? Or would she understand that sometimes a bad man could be a good man who had to make big choices?
I didn’t know why I was thinking about any of this as I raced to the clubhouse. It was something to think about other than the mental image of Erica in a pool of blood.
I broke just about every traffic law in existence on the way—it was worth risking being pulled over if it meant getting to Erica just a minute sooner. A minute could make all the difference.
A plan was in motion. That was what Harrison told me. There was something already going down. Why did Alexander York always think he was smarter than me? Maybe because he was. I had the book smarts. He was cunning. I needed to be cunning in a time like this.
I’d thought I had the bases covered. Leaving Onyx behind to take care of things. I hoped Onyx was safe—the only way to get to Erica was to get around him. He’d have to be dead or unconscious to let that happen. He might not have liked her, but he would have protected her for my sake. We went back that far.
I rode on autopilot. My body was just going through the motions. All I could do was think about the club. I realized it might not have been just Erica they were after. I might walk into my clubhouse and find the entire club dead, taken out by the Wolves. What then?
I flew through the waterfront area, my guys behind me. They had no idea what was happening in my head. I had to rely on them to cover me if things got intense—I couldn’t keep an eye out for danger, or traps. All I could do was get to Erica and the rest of my club.
The warehouse where we’d set up shop years before looked fine, which was a relief. I had hardly switched off the engine before I was running for
the door.
“Vince! What gives?” I heard Frankie’s voice calling out from behind me, but couldn’t pay attention. All I could do was run inside as fast as I could to get Erica in my arms. I needed to know she was all right.
The lounge was empty. I heard noise coming from the game room. The door was open. There was a poker game going on around the table, with the girls included. They we having fun, like nothing else mattered. They were safe, at least.
Then it had to be Erica.
“Vince!” They cheered when they saw me. I ignored them.
Sam was coming from the kitchen with a mug in her hands. “Where is she?” I asked, rushing to her.
“Erica? In the office. I’m bringing her some hot chocolate. She was so worried about you.”
That made two of us. I turned away from Sam and opened the door to the office. I expected to see Erica sitting at the desk. My heart sank when I saw the chair was empty.
“Erica?” I checked the bathroom. Nothing. I turned to Sam.
She shrugged, biting her lip. “I thought she was in here. She said this was where she was going. Maybe she went upstairs instead. She looked pretty upset and nervous.”
I brushed past her and ran upstairs. By then, Frankie and the rest had come in. Everyone looked as tense as I felt. They knew something was off, just as I did.
I opened the door to my room. Empty. I went up and down the hall, looking in every room. I checked the bathrooms. She was nowhere.
Running back downstairs, I called out, “Has anybody seen Erica?” By then, the game had stopped. Everybody knew something was up. They looked at each other, shrugging.
“She was playing cards with us a few minutes ago,” Brett said.
“How did she seem? Sick? Upset?”
Brett shrugged. Everybody shrugged. How could nobody know? I could have screamed in rage and frustration. It was like being in a nightmare where no one was able to help. I could have been speaking a different language.
Then, something else hit me. I looked over the group. “Where’s Onyx?”
Again, shrugging. “He was right here a few minutes ago…yeah, he was watching the game…standing in the doorway…I swear, I just saw him.” Their voices overlapped each other.
A sick feeling bloomed in the pit of my stomach. My mind wouldn’t let me believe it at first. I went back into the office. The window behind the desk was open.
No. It couldn’t be.
Axel was behind me. “You, Chip, whoever. Search the perimeter. Maybe one of them is just outside.” A few of the guys ran out the front door. I heard them walking around outside a moment later.
My head was spinning. There were two scenarios forming. In the first, somebody from the Wolves came in through the open office window. They took Erica. Then they somehow incapacitated Onyx and dragged both of their bodies out of the open window.
Right. In the time it took Sam to make a cup of hot chocolate.
I couldn’t bring myself to consider the second scenario before I knew everything. I realized I was hoping they’d find Onyx on the ground outside. I honestly hoped my best friend was dead or dying out there. It would have been better than the alternative.
He wasn’t. Axel came back. “Everything’s clear,” he reported, sounding grim.
I was sitting in the chair behind the desk. I stared up at him, wishing he could tell me what it all meant. He looked just as clueless as I felt.
“What do you think happened?” he asked.
“I can’t say it out loud yet.” I tented my fingers, closing my eyes. It wasn’t possible. With Onyx gone, Axel was my next in command. I had to tell him everything. “Sit down.”
I went through the entire story, almost as much for myself as for him. I had to get it out, think about it, piece it together.
“So what you’re saying is, Harrison told you there’s a plan already in motion. You assumed it had to do with Erica.”
“What else could I assume?” I motioned around the room. “She’s gone, right?”
“So is Onyx.” His words were heavy, loaded.
I nodded miserably. “Yeah.”
Axel mulled it all over. “Here’s a question. Did you ever find out how they hacked into Erica’s mom’s Facebook account? Like, how did they know how to find her?”
“Shit. I didn’t think about that.” I drummed my fingers on the desk, thinking hard. Then, my heart sank even further. “Do you know her last name? Erica’s, I mean?”
He shook his head. “No, why would I?”
“I didn’t either. It’s Quentin. Erica Quentin.” I stared at Axel. “Onyx knew it.”
“He found her on Facebook,” Axel said, his voice hard.
“And he found her mom through that.” I nodded. “Fuck me. Fuck!” I swept my arm across the desk, knocking everything to the floor. “How? Why?”
“I don’t know, man. None of us saw it.” Axel looked as sick as I felt. “I would never have believed it. But it had to be him. He’s the only one not here. The only one who knew how to track Erica down through Facebook.”
“I don’t get it. I just don’t.” My best friend, my most trusted advisor for years. How was it possible?
“That’s not important right now.” Axel stood, towering over me. “We have to get her back. We have to get all of them for this. Get your head in the game.”
I knew he was right. Now wasn’t the time to get lost in the reasons why. I might get the chance to ask Onyx myself, I might not. Either way, there was time to take care of that later.
The phone rang. It was mine. I pulled it from the pocket of my kutte. I held up a finger to Axel, wanting him to wait while I took the call.
“Hello?” I didn’t know who to expect on the other end of the line, but I knew it couldn’t be good.
“Vince Baldoni.” The voice was warm, friendly. Gloating.
My jaw tightened. I mouthed, “York” to Axel. His fists clenched.
It was a struggle to keep my voice under control. “You got him.”
“I know I’ve got him.” The leader of the Vicious Wolves laughed bitterly. “I’ve been a step ahead of you all along, haven’t I? All this time, you were supposed to be the smart guy. The one who would take the Fury Riders into the future. You’ve studied great leaders, right? You know how to negotiate and get people to work together. You know how to stand in front of a room of people and get them to agree with you.” He snickered. “Or do you?”
I closed my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The one thing you always sucked at was seeing what was right in front of your face. Pride? Probably. Or maybe you never had the balls to be a real leader. You’re so sure everybody wants what you want. That they’ll go along with you.”
“What’s your point, York? Get to it.”
“I’ll get to it. I have your girlfriend here.”
I closed my eyes, my throat tightening. “Don’t touch her,” I warned. I heard Axel let out a sharp exhale, like he was barely holding himself back.
“I’ve already touched her,” he said. “I’ll do any damn thing I please.”
“I want to know she’s still alive.”
“She is.”
“Proof, York. I want proof.” A moment later, I heard her screaming. My chest tightened. I saw red.
“Vince! Stay away!” she screamed. Then she cried out, but the cry was muffled by something. I guessed they were gagging her again.
“Okay? She’s alive and well.”
I bit my lip, hard, to bring myself back around. The sound of her voice… “What do you want for her?” I asked.
“Your club. Simple as that.”
I looked at Axel. “You want my club?” Axel’s eyes went black. He shook his head, hard.
“It’s what I’ve always wanted. You don’t have the balls to lead it the way it deserves. I do.”
“What if I don’t hand it over?”
“What do you think?” He laughed. “She’s dead. Your choice. Be here by tomorrow at d
awn. If I don’t see you before then, she’s gone. Don’t press me, Baldoni. She means nothing to me.” The line went dead.
It took a minute for me to catch my breath. Erica. Screaming. He thought he could take her from me. He thought he could take my club from me.
The worst part was he could. The way I saw it, he held all the cards.