by Nia Farrell
He nodded. “I’ll try to keep it down. Is there anything you need before we lock up and head out?”
They had already refilled the empty water bottles. She supposed she should check her phone while she had a signal.
“Let me look at my messages, in case my folks have tried to get hold of me.”
She shuddered, unable to hide her trepidation. Mad Dog crooked a finger under her chin and brushed a kiss across her lips. Straightening, he looked into her eyes. The intensity in his was mesmerizing.
“I’ll keep you safe, Isabella. You’re my old lady now. You’re eighteen, for Christ’s sake. You can damn well choose whatever the fuck you want to do. If your parents give you too much grief, you’ll stay with me at the clubhouse until we can find a place of our own. Sophia will have to make do with your mom until then. Where your dad’s not fond of her, I’m sure that we can get full custody. You’ll still commute to SIU for classes you can’t take online, but you’ll be coming home to me.”
“Oh, Luke!” Isabella wanted to hug him and never let go. “Are you serious? Of course, you’re serious. It’s just—I never…it’s so soon. We just met. You don’t know me. I get laser-focused when I work or study. You’ll be ready for bed, and I’ll have hours to go before I get there. I’ll give you everything I can, but I’m worried that it won’t be enough. What if I can’t give you what you need?”
He shook his tawny head and cupped her face. “When I was younger, we would have had a problem,” he admitted. “Lucky you, I’m old enough to recognize priorities. I can control myself when I need to. Just because I haven’t needed to so far, doesn’t mean that I can’t,” he teased.
Looking at her, his expression grew serious again. “My mother once told me, when something’s meant to be, time is irrelevant. What we have…I agree, it’s soon, but I trust what I feel when I’m with you, Isabella. It feels right. You feel right. I can’t explain it, but there it is.”
“Thank you,” she whispered, fighting tears. “It feels right to me, too. Like I’ve been waiting for you my whole life, and now it’s finally happening. But there’s Lee, and that caller. Fuck, there may be more callers by now.” She closed her eyes and shook herself. She couldn’t worry about that now. It was beyond her control. She needed to focus on things that weren’t. “Let me check my phone, then we’ll go, okay?”
There were two texts from Anna, begging for forgiveness. She’d missed a call from her dad. She felt the color wash from her face as she listened to it and turned haunted eyes to Luke. Putting it on speakerphone, she played his message again.
“Isabella Antonia! What the hell is going on? We leave home for three days, and what happens?” He blew out harshly enough to hear it over the phone. “At least Krissy was honest with us, but you? How long has this been going on? No matter. It stops right now. He’s a biker, for christsakes! He was with your sister! You cannot see him, Isabella! Do you hear me? I forbid it! If I need to, I will speak to your uncle. You have two days until we get home to break things off with him. It better be handled by then, young lady.”
She took one look at Luke and burst into tears. “I knew this was going to happen,” she sobbed, welcoming the strength of his arms when he pulled her into his embrace. “I’m going to lose them.”
Mad Dog kissed the top of her head and rubbed it with the underside of his chin. “They’ll come around,” he said firmly. “There are things that they don’t know, about Krissy, about me. They can go to your uncle, but Mr. Visconti knows the story. He’ll back us up and set them straight. It will work out, eventually. You’ll see.”
She wanted to believe it, but her dad was stubborn and her mother was even worse. “I hate to ask, but is there a way that we can move the rest of my stuff before they get back? It sounds awful, but I don’t want to chance getting locked out and not being able to get back in. No furniture,” she said. “Just my clothes, cameras, tripods and monopod, my laptop, and printer. I have some books, CDs, and DVDs if there’s room. If not, I’ll leave them there for now.”
“We’ll find room,” he assured her. “We can stash anything extra in Rose’s old room. As soon as we’re done at Michael’s, I’ll get a cage from the clubhouse. The back of the van will have more than enough space for your stuff. Lee’s not going anywhere. We’ll get you squared away, then I’ll deal with her.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m sorry for the hassle.”
Mad Dog quirked a grin. “I can handle this. I can handle your dad when he gets home. Until then, we focus on what needs to be done next and forget about everything else.”
It was below average temperatures for June, but still plenty warm. Rather than hug Mad Dog like she wanted to, she sat back and held onto his waist, leaving room enough for the wind to cool them both. As agreed, their first stop was Michael’s. The men disappeared into Michael’s home office. Isabella went with Rose to the sunroom.
Sophia was lying by the glass wall but ran to Isabella when she heard her voice.
“I know some animals stop eating when their owners are gone,” Rose said. “She’s picked a bit, and her water bowl is nearly full. Maybe I’m worrying too much, but it concerns me.
Sophia’s appetite seemed to return with Isabella, who sat on the floor by the cat’s feeding station and encouraged her to eat. Sated, she curled up in Isabella’s lap for a chin scratch and a belly rub.
“How was your trip?” Rose asked her. She’d waited until Sophia was finished eating to speak.
Isabella sighed heavily. “Fine, until I checked my messages. My folks know about the video. Dad was…well, you can imagine. When we’re done here, we’re going to take one of the club’s vans and get the rest of my stuff. I don’t know where we’re going to put it all. I guess we could get those rolling totes that fit under a bed, like people use for out-of-season clothes.”
“My room’s empty,” Rose offered. “Papa Bear and Mama Mare keep it for us to use when it’s safer to stay than to drive home after a party. I suspect that she’ll be adding a crib, once she learns about the baby. But there’s space in the closet, and the dresser is nearly empty. Whatever’s left should fit in the bottom drawer. Just stash my stuff there, and you’ll have four drawers to fill. That should help.”
“Oh, it will,” Isabella assured her, not mentioning that Mad Dog had planned to commandeer it anyway. With his sister’s permission was the far better way to do this. “It’s temporary. Only until he can find a place for us.”
“Get out!” Rose clapped her hands in glee. “Seriously? Omigod. He’s always the one who gets away, and you landed him!”
“I think we kind of caught each other,” she said, still blushing. “But my Dad was the one who sealed the deal. He gave me two days to end it with Mad Dog. That’s not happening. I don’t know if they’ll kick me out, or lock me out, so we’ll get all my stuff after this.”
And check the answering machine. She needed to see if the sicko called. Her threats from this morning still echoed in Isabella’s mind.
“You’re going to burn in hell. Burn, do you hear me?!”
Oh, God. What if the caller were serious? She claimed to know that Isabella was home—which meant that she knew where she lived. What if she’d come while they were gone and set fire to her parents’ house? What if they drove the van there, and nothing was left but smoldering ashes?
Isabella had wanted to return home. Now she prayed that she had a home to go back to.
Chapter Twenty-One
The house was still there.
Isabella released the breath that she’d been holding and forced herself to relax.
The van that Luke borrowed was an older model with no air conditioning or back seats, but it had the most cargo space of any cage that the club owned. They had stopped by the dollar store for yard-sized trash bags. She figured those would work to haul her wardrobe. She was less worried about wrinkles and more concerned with keeping her clothes clean. She planned to take everything to Rose’s old room at the cl
ubhouse and sort things there.
Upstairs in her closet, Isabella kept a second carryon for her cameras and equipment. Padding her laptop in a bath sheet, she made room for it in the bottom, then put her cameras and stands back in. After adding all the power cords to her electronics and rechargeables, she zipped it up.
Mad Dog had loaded her printer in the van while she packed. The suitcase with her most precious cargo was the final thing to be carried out.
She took one last look around the room that had been hers since she was born. A sense of sadness overwhelmed her, and tears sprang into her eyes.
“It’s okay.” Mad Dog pulled her against him, wrapped her in his arms, and held her tight. “It’s just for a while. They’ll come around. You’ll see. At least I didn’t make you cry this time.”
“Not this time,” she sniffed. “Sorry. I’m getting your shirt wet.”
“It’ll wash.”
She stayed in his embrace until her tears stopped. Drying her eyes and swiping her cheeks, she offered a brave smile. “Done,” she said. “Let’s listen to messages, then go home.”
His. And now hers.
Mad Dog took her luggage downstairs and set it by the front door, ready to carry out when they left. Isabella went to the answering machine. There were nine new messages. One was from Anna. Three were from salesmen soliciting business. The one from her father was virtually identical to what he’d left on her cell phone.
The other four were from the sicko, all threatening hellfire and brimstone for her wicked ways.
Isabella started to erase them, but Mad Dog stopped her. “Don’t,” he said. “We might need them. If she’s one of your judgmental neighbors using a burner phone, voice recognition software could help identify her. Fuck. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before. I need to talk to Crash and see what it will take. Meanwhile, let’s call your Uncle Giovanni. After this morning, I’m pretty sure he has this line tapped. I want to see if he had any luck tracing those last four calls. If he’s tapped it, he’ll know that your dad called and know what he demanded. After all that your uncle’s done for us, I think we should tell him what we’re doing about it. I’d kinda like to keep on his good side, ya know?”
Mad Dog pulled out his cell phone, flipped it open, and punched in her uncle’s number.
“Hello, Mr. Visconti? Luke McLanahan. Yeah, she’s here. She’s okay. Would you like to speak to her, sir? We just got home and checked her parents’ voice mail. Yes. Four. Isabella tells me that some of their neighbors aren’t keen on Catholics. I’m going to check with Michael O’Flaherty and see what it would take to do voice recognition. I’m sure he’ll need calls recorded to have something to compare.” Mad Dog listened. Nodded. “We were thinking alike then. I’ll let her know. One more thing. Isabella’s father ordered her to break up with me before they get home on Tuesday. I’m just giving you a head’s up on our plans. She’s in this for the long haul, and so am I. We’re moving her in with me right now. I’ll do everything in my power to protect her—and to make her happy, sir.”
Ending the call, he turned back to her. “It should sound scary, but your uncle and I think a lot alike. His security chief conducted a survey today about a proposed sales tax increase and talked to all the women who live nearby. He got a match, Isabella. Olive Davis, two doors down. The Feds are issuing a search order. They’ll be looking for that burner phone when they bring the warrant for her arrest.”
Bitch. She didn’t realize that she’d voiced it aloud until Mad Dog chuckled.
“That, she is. But she’ll get what’s coming to her, Isabella. So will Lee. Hell hath no fury like an Avenging Angel when someone hurts one of our own. There’s no place they can hide where we won’t find them. Count on it.”
Isabella shivered at the lethal promise in his voice. She was reminded that Mad Dog had yet to finish the last of his war story, the part where his mother was kidnapped. Heaven help the man who took her.
“I am. I do,” she said. “I can’t say that I’m shocked to learn it was Mrs. Davis, but I am surprised that she knew to buy a burner phone. It makes me wonder who else she’s been calling.”
“With luck, the Feds will find the phone she used. When they ring her doorbell, she won’t have a chance to erase any history. Fuck, even if she does, I’m sure there’s a way to retrieve it. You might be the only victim asked to make a deposition, or you might be one of many. I sure as hell will be interested in what they find.”
“Do you think I’ll have to testify?” The thought was at once intimidating and exciting.
“In a case like this, I doubt it. Most of it will be based on forensic evidence, what they’ve proven after the fact. You weren’t here when she called. You didn’t recognize her voice when you listened to the message. There was no number listed on the caller ID. Your uncle has duplicate recordings, so if this one gets erased—accidentally or on purpose, the content of the calls will be available if they’re needed. Now, if you think I’ve answered your questions, I need to get your things unloaded, then go see about firing my manager. The search for a new one starts tomorrow. Let’s go.”
With all the extra hands available at the clubhouse, what had taken them two hours to pack and haul out was upstairs in Rose’s old room in a matter of minutes. Mad Dog refused to let Isabella come along when he confronted Lee, but he did agree to take his brothers with him. Papa Bear made it five. The McLanahan men strapped on their helmets and headed out to Paradise Found, where Lee worked every Sunday.
Except for today.
By the time they got there, Lee was gone and the cash in the safe had vanished. When Mad Dog called Isabella to tell her, he sounded livid.
“Fucking bitch,” he growled. “We’re headed to her place next. If she’s smart (and she is), she won’t be there. I won’t report the theft—for now, anyway. We don’t need the law poking around, looking for an excuse to shut us down. But we do need to find Lee, and our money. The sooner, the better.”
“Stay safe,” she said, disturbed by the sense of dread that she was feeling. Lee was intelligent, calculating, and without much of a conscience. Add desperate to escape, and she was one dangerous woman.
“We will. I’ll call you again when we’re headed home. The men know the situation, in case she shows up at the clubhouse. She’d be nuts to go there, but I’m not taking any fucking chances. You stay put, you hear me? No going out without me, not even to Rose and Michael’s.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Work on getting your gear stowed. I have a feeling when I get back, I’m going to want something to make me feel better.”
“Chocolate?”
“Cocktease. More like a tankard, a toke, and your tush. Now, gotta go.”
One moment he was there. The next, he was gone, headed to Lee’s with his father and brothers, determined to make her pay for her crimes against the two of them, and now his club.
Needing the distraction, Isabella worked on reorganizing the dresser. She put all of Rose’s extra clothes into the bottom drawer and filled the top four with her own. Tops went in the first drawer, then shorts and bottoms. Underwear and socks shared the third. The fourth held pajamas and workout clothes. She crammed everything else into the closet.
Mad Dog had set her printer on top of the dresser. Finding the carryon with her cameras, she pulled out her laptop, its power cord, and her USB connection to her camera and downloaded the pictures from today. Once the files had transferred, she opened the previewer and flipped through the images, one by one.
She stopped when she got to one that she’d taken of Mad Dog. His head was turned toward his left shoulder, throwing his face into profile. His tattooed body was juxtaposed against a primeval forest. Elemental man. Sunlight dappled his broad shoulders and limned his hair, creating a golden nimbus—not unlike a halo.
A copy and crop in Photoshop, and she had a new background screen. She was tempted to close her laptop, pull the power cord, and find Mama Mare, but she wanted to sho
w her pictures to Luke before anyone else. He had shared his special place with her. He deserved to see them first.
Isabella yawned. The day had taken its toll. She was emotionally and physically drained. The only thing that sounded good right now was Mad Dog’s bed and a pillow. The important things—her purse, her suitcase of cameras, and her laptop—she took with her. Not that they wouldn’t be safe in Rose’s old room, but Rose was gone. No one here would mess with their Vice President. They’d be a fool to try.
Luke’s closet was pretty full. Rather than move anything to make room, Isabella set her laptop on a chair seat, hung her purse from the back of it, slid her carryon under the bed, and climbed on top of his covers. Fishing out a pillow, she tucked it under her head. Within minutes, she was asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Mad Dog looked at the sleeping beauty in his bed. After the shitty luck he’d had, he sure could use some TLC, but she looked so peaceful, he hated to wake her.
Then again, she’d be ruined for tonight if he let her sleep.
“Hey,” he murmured, winnowing his fingers through her hair. It spilled like black silk over her shoulders and across her pillow. “Wake up, Isabella.”
Eyes still closed, she smiled at the sound of his voice and stretched.
“Come on, babygirl. I let you sleep, but it’s past supper time. We both need to eat before it gets much later. Mama Mare made pot roast with all the fixings. What’s left is cooling in the kitchen, or we could eat out somewhere. What sounds good to you?”
“Here,” she yawned. “Don’t wanna go out. People.”
People who knew, was what she meant. Someone else besides Olive Davis was bound to have seen the video by now. Several someones, more than likely.