Wrench: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Inked Hunters MC) (Unbreakable Bad Boys Book 1)

by Sophia Gray

  Chapter Six

  “So are you and Arsen…” Cassandra trailed off, but Maya knew what she was trying to ask. She slowly downed her shot, letting it linger in her mouth before swallowing it, if only to give herself extra time before answering the dreaded question.

  “No. No, we’re not,” Maya said with a polite smile, and she could tell that various club members were listening in on their conversation despite the hoots and hollers of the bikers around her. “I’m just here for a work thing, you know, helping Arsen with a case. I’m engaged now, actually,” she said, gesturing to the ring that she carried on her left hand.

  “Oh, wow, congratulations!” Cassandra said, but Maya could tell that she was caught off guard, expecting an entirely different answer. “Who is he? Where’d you meet him? What’s he do? Is he here in town?”

  Maya laughed, unsure of which question to tackle first. “Um, his name is Chuck, Chuck Huber. We met at a barbecue a coworker of mine was throwing, and we just hit it off. He’s an accountant, but I don’t really understand any of the work he does,” she said with an awkward chuckle. It felt weird, describing her new relationship to someone from her old life. She wanted to keep the two spheres as separate as possible, not allowing them to interfere with each other. It’s not like Cassandra could possibly do anything to mess that distinction up, but still, it was uncomfortable for Maya to even acknowledge her other, cleaner, easier life when she was mired in the city business.

  “Sounds like a great catch,” Cassandra said before drinking her own shot. Maya could tell from the flat, wooden way she said it that Cassandra didn’t really mean it. She was an MC girl, through and through, somebody who’d been hanging around the bikers since she was a teenager. She was what Maya should have been like, honestly, obsessed with hard, tough men with tattoos. But Maya needed something different nowadays. She needed something stable, something easy, something simple and safe. At least, that’s what she told herself.

  Maya felt her skin start crawling a little, the vast number of sweaty, drunk, swaying bodies surrounding her making her more and more uncomfortable with each passing second. “Um, I’m going to go mingle a little bit. I’ll talk to you later!” Maya said, shoving her way through the crowd of bodies to get to relatively fresher air in the center of the room. She thought she heard Cassandra shout something after her, probably trying to tell her to wait up, but Maya ignored it, plunging forward until she saw Arsen on the opposite side of the room, his head bowed as he talked to a man that Maya only vaguely recognized.

  By the time Maya crossed the room, diving in between little pockets of people talking to each other, the other man had left, heading out of the building, while Arsen just stood there by himself, sipping on a beer. “What’s up?” Maya asked, ignoring the sweet, familiar half-smile that Arsen gave her as soon as she stepped in front of him.

  “Hey, talked to Chris. Gave him our girl’s number. He should have the information for us in a couple of days.”

  “Just like that?” Maya asked. It was a little scary how easy it was to invade a young girl’s privacy.

  Arsen just shrugged. “I had to call in a favor, but yeah, we’ll be on our way soon enough. I told him to rush it, so maybe we’ll learn who she was talking to by tomorrow.”

  Maya nodded, her thoughts a million miles away.

  “What’s wrong?” Arsen asked, apparently still capable of reading her expressions, even a year later.

  “Nothing, it’s nothing,” Maya rushed to answer, faking a smile, but she could tell, just judging off of Arsen’s expression, that her performance wasn’t successful in convincing him that everything was fine. She sighed deeply, grimacing a little as she searched for the right words to describe what she was currently feeling. “You ever feel like…you know when you go back to a place from your childhood, and it doesn’t look like anything you remember?”

  Arsen nodded, holding his beer suspended in midair between his waist and his mouth.

  “Yeah, well, that’s not the problem here. Everything’s exactly the same,” Maya said, gesturing to the clubhouse around her.

  “Except you?” Arsen suggested, raising one eyebrow quizzically.

  “I guess,” Maya said, lifting one shoulder and letting it fall limp in a pathetic excuse for a half-shrug. She didn’t really know why it was bothering her, but it did. Maybe because I haven’t changed either, Maya said silently to herself, the thought making her heart seize up in her throat like she was choking on a bone. Maybe I’m the same broken, fucked-up girl I always was. Maybe I fit right in here.

  “Well, not everything is the same. Shit changes in a year, even in the MC,” Arsen said, tearing her away from her thoughts again. “Like, we’ve got a new cook now. Great guy, makes the best ribs you’ll ever have in your life. I’ll introduce you, come on.”

  Maya really didn’t care one way or another if the MC had a new cook, but she followed after Arsen anyway, smiling politely at various bikers who remembered her on the way into the kitchen.

  “Zane!” Arsen called out, rapping his fists against one of the counters. For a second, the chef was nowhere to be found, but then, a moment later, his head popped up from the floor.

  “Sorry, sorry, I spilled something. You know me. Slippery hands,” the chef said with a sheepish smile as he walked towards them. “Sorry, I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Zane, Zane Havens.”

  “Maya Talbot.” Maya offered her hand forward for an introductory handshake, but Zane simply shook his head and lifted his hands, which were covered in flour or sugar or some other white cooking substance.

  “Arsen has told me about you,” Zane said, walking over to the counter to wipe his hands on some paper towel. “You’re like a lawyer, right?”

  “Not exactly,” Maya said, “but I deal with the law a lot. I help connect victims to the representation that they need.”

  Zane nodded and smiled a little, but his eyes remained cold and distant. It was clear he didn’t really care about her job and was just being polite. Maya immediately felt awkward, like she’d been dragged here as Arsen’s accessory, a little finishing touch to his outfit rather than an autonomous person herself. She leaned back against the kitchen counter behind her, crossing her arms and ankles to feel more secure. She’d just let Arsen do all the talking here. He was better at it than her anyway.

  “What are you making for us tonight?” Arsen asked, referring to the thick, heavy smell that hung over the whole kitchen.

  “Same old, same old. Meat and potatoes, the midnight snack of champions,” Zane said with a laugh. “I am making some dessert for you guys, though, so stick around.”

  “Will do,” Arsen said, and then he put a hand on Maya’s shoulder, attempting to steer her back out of the kitchen. For a second, Maya’s body stayed immobile, rooted to the spot like she’d been frozen in time. She stared at Zane even as Arsen applied more pressure to her shoulder and eventually, physically turned her around himself; Zane looked back at her, smiling without any light in his eyes.

  Maya felt a little chill go up her spine, traveling all the way up to the base of her skull. Knock it off, she berated herself, turning her head back to face the main room of the clubhouse where various MC members awaited her. You’re just being weird and twitchy because you’re stuck in the city. You’ll be back out in the country soon enough.

  “How long has he been with the MC?” Maya asked in a lowered voice, keenly aware that Arsen’s hand lingered on her shoulder, possessively gripping her like she might fly away.

  Arsen shrugged. “Little less than a year. He’s really funny. Love that guy.”

  Maya nodded to herself, letting the words sink in. See? You’re just being paranoid. It’s a biker gang. There are bound to be weird, stilted people in here. Not everybody is suspicious. Not everybody is a creep.

  But no matter how hard Maya repeated those words to herself, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was off. Something’s always off with me, Maya thought to herself as s
he accepted another shot of whiskey from one of the MC members. Nothing will ever be normal for me again. Ever.

  In her mind, she tried to argue with herself, even as she took the shot, feeling herself grow drunker and drunker as the minutes passed by. I’m not broken, she tried to think to herself. I’m not broken. I’m okay. I’m normal. I’m a normal woman.

  But Maya was never a very good liar.

  Chapter Seven

  Arsen woke up early the next morning, stretching hard to pop the tension out of his worn-out muscles. He’d overdone it at the gym the morning before, putting in a last-ditch effort to get his abs in peak shape before Maya got here. He knew it was stupid. Chances were, she wasn’t even going to see his bare chest and stomach while she stayed in the city. But he had to try.

  Maybe I’ll make her see them, he thought as he slipped out of bed and put on a pair of sweatpants. He grinned mischievously to himself as he walked into his bathroom to brush his hair. He’d just walk around without a shirt on. That way, Maya wouldn’t have a choice. She’d have to see how good he looked nowadays.

  When he stepped out into the living room/kitchen area, however, Maya was nowhere to be found. She must still be sleeping, Arsen thought as he walked into the kitchen to prepare breakfast. But first, he pulled out his phone to check his e-mail. Sometimes he got frantic requests for his P.I. work overnight. But right at the top of his inbox was a message from Chris, who’d managed to get ahold of Roxie’s text messages and call records within twelve hours.

  Arsen knew Maya would want to see this right away, so he walked back over to the hallway to knock lightly on her door. “Maya? I’ve got some good news,” he called out.

  The door swung open, revealing an exhausted-looking Maya, whose jaw fell open as soon as she got a good look at Arsen in his shirtless state.

  A second later, Maya went pale, like she’d just seen a ghost. “Um, I…hi, good morning, hi,” she stuttered out, her eyes drifting up and down his body.

  Arsen struggled to suppress a self-satisfied smirk. She still wants me, he thought. Even if it’s just physically, she wants me. “Good morning to you, too,” he said, putting one hand up on the frame of the door to flex his abdominal muscles even more. “Roxie’s phone records. We’ve got them.”

  Maya’s eyes widened, and she immediately stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind her. “Let me see them,” she demanded.

  Arsen wordlessly handed his phone over to her before he remembered that the screen automatically locked after a minute of inactivity. “The access code is…”

  “I remember it,” Maya said quickly, dragging her finger down the front of his phone screen to open up the right e-mail. “Let’s comb through these.”

  “You start,” Arsen said. “I’ll make breakfast.” He knew Maya would have better insight into what was relevant and what wasn’t worth their time. After all, between the two of them, only Maya had ever been a teenage girl.

  Maya didn’t answer him, already completely wrapped up in Roxie’s virtual life. Arsen set about scrambling some eggs and making a few slices of French toast for them. They worked in silence, Maya studying up while Arsen cooked, and Arsen couldn’t help but feel…relieved at how comfortable it felt, how familiar. They used to do this all the time, back in the day. He’d cook while her thoughts stewed. He’d take care of her while she took care of the case. They were a great team. Arsen had to swallow to clear the lump in this throat that popped up just thinking about it. He missed this. So much.

  Once he finished fixing up breakfast, he brought two plates full of food to the table, where Maya sat thumbing through the phone records with her brows furrowed and her eyes narrowed practically to slits. “Got anything yet?” Arsen asked as he sat down across from Maya.

  “Not sure,” Maya murmured, not looking up from the phone. “She…she had a flirtation or a…short-lived relationship that didn’t appear in the diary. His name is Darren, Darren Crenshaw. She talks about how annoying he became, bothering her when she decided she didn’t want to date him anymore.”

  “That’s suspicious,” Arsen said, beginning to dig into his eggs. “Most women are killed or abused by intimate partners.” Maya nodded in response, and then they fell into silence for several long moments before Maya finally spoke again.

  “It’s possible…it’s possible that she wasn’t even taken by The Blade, isn’t it?” Maya asked, finally tearing her eyes away from Arsen’s phone to look him in the eyes. “It could be a copycat, trying to misdirect the police’s attention so that they can get away with killing her.”

  “Yeah, it’s possible,” Arsen agreed. “My gut tells me otherwise, though.”

  Maya bit down on her bottom lip, nodding more to herself than to Arsen. He couldn’t help but wonder what all was going through her beautiful head.

  “You should eat,” Arsen said, gesturing towards her full plate. “You’ll need your energy if we’re going to catch some scumbags.”

  Maya picked up her fork and stabbed at her eggs but didn’t actually bring any of the food to her mouth just yet. She returned to looking at the phone, but a few seconds later, she froze, her eyes rising again to meet Arsen’s. This time, her eyes looked full and wide, like she’d just pieced together the final bit of a puzzle. “Her dad hit her,” she said lowly. “A week before she went missing. Look,” she said as she handed Arsen his phone, pointing to a message that Roxie wrote to one of her close friends.

  Arsen cleared his throat and began to read out loud, “My stupid fucking father wouldn’t let me go out yesterday. I yelled in his face, so he slapped me. Mom told me to stop being a baby about the whole thing. Such a bitch. Can you believe that?”

  Maya took the phone back, but she finally put it down next to her plate and began eating, chewing slowly, obviously still lost in thought. “Could be nothing…”

  “Could be something, though,” Arsen argued. “Sometimes small acts of violence snowball. That might not have been the first time he hit her. Or the last.”

  “But why would they come to you, then?” Maya asked in between swallows of French toast. “Are they really that arrogant to think that they could trick you into pinning the crime onto somebody else?”

  “Yeah, it doesn’t make sense. Still, it’s worth looking into,” Arsen said, even though he didn’t believe that the Saxtons were responsible for Roxie’s disappearance. They seemed too genuine, too sincerely heart-broken about what had happened to their daughter. Arsen would be shocked if they were behind the whole thing.

  “So we’ve got a working list of suspects here,” Arsen said as he finished off the rest of his eggs. “The parents of the unnamed girl, the Saxtons, the guy at the sunglasses hut, and the ex-boyfriend. That’s good to start with.”

  But Maya frowned and pushed her red hair out of her face, the way she always did when she was struggling to gather her thoughts. “But if it is The Blade…he could be anybody. I need to look at the crime scene photos again, get an idea of how his mind works.”

  “Are you sure…” Arsen trailed off, thinking about how the photographs seemed to trigger Maya in a powerful way just the night before.

  But Maya nodded furiously, so fast that her head practically became a blur. “Yes, I’m sure. I need to do this.”

  That’s my girl, Arsen thought with pride as he got up to go to the evidence cabinet, pulling out the gruesome pictures from the crime scenes again.

  Maya stared at them a long time, tapping her feet anxiously under the table like she was itching to break into a run. Arsen honestly wouldn’t blame her. After everything that she’d been through, it was amazing that she was able to confront stuff like this at all. Maybe I’m just torturing her, Arsen thought, feeling the heavy sensation of guilt sink down through his stomach. Maybe I should have never bothered her. Maybe she just needs to rest, not get drawn back into this bullshit.

  But Maya sprung up from her chair a minute later, gripping one of the crime scene photos in her fist. “The spiral.”


  “The thing he carved on that one girl’s knee?”

  “Right,” Maya said. “It means something. It’s not just a doodle. It’s Masonic imagery. There’s an eye in the center, see? You have to really squint to see it, but it’s there.”

  “What do you mean? The killer’s a Freemason?”

  Maya shook her head. “More likely, someone who thinks the Masons were more mystical and powerful than they really were. So, judging by that, the killer’s a man, although that was already statistically likely from the outset. He’s probably older. It’s not likely that a teenager is obsessed with the Freemasons, although I suppose it’s still possible. And…” Maya trailed off, rubbing her finger over the edge of the photograph. “He thinks he’s doing God’s work. He thinks it’s holy or sacred or important.”

  “Shit,” Arsen whispered. “Any other information you think we could use?”