There was a knock at the door, and Braya woodenly got up, going to it. For a split second, she thought it might be Crash, that they could talk this out and figure out what to do next and move on. But she knew deep in her bones that he wouldn’t have knocked, he would have just burst into the room and demanded everything she had. Which wasn’t much at this point, all her cards had been played. There wasn’t anything left to tell. With her hand on the doorknob she finally came to some sense.
“Who is it?” she asked before turning the knob.
“Name is Axel, I need you to open the door, Braya.” She didn’t know that name, but she recognized the voice from earlier. Keeping the security latch on, she opened the door a crack. Axel was a handsome man, in a biker kind of way. Not as in your face as Crash but nice looking, and he wasn’t looking at her like she was the devil reincarnated, which was a bonus. She still didn’t make a move to remove the latch. Axel, smiled and winked at her but didn’t say anything, just putting a phone through the opening, handing it to her. Braya slowly brought it up to her ear.
“Hello?”
“Braya, this is Tuck. The man standing in front of you is Maddox Reid, goes by the road name Axel. He’s going to take you to El Paso.”
She recognized Tuck's voice and heard the words he was saying, but still didn’t move to open the door to the other man.
“Where’s Crash? Is he coming back?” And quieter, she asked, “Is he okay?”
“Crash will meet you at the bank on Monday morning.” Tuck was all business. “The RBMC and BRMC will help you get the information you’re after. We will provide safe passage back to your vehicle and to your home, but ma’am, we don’t take kindly to people withholding pertinent information for their own gain.”
“I understand,” Braya said, defeated. Braya cleared her throat. “Please tell him I didn’t know, that I didn’t realize…”
“Ma’am, you just told a man that you know who was behind his sister’s death, and you have known for a long time now. That man is my brother, and you are an outsider. As I said, we will honor our agreement but nothing more.”
Braya wanted to cry. This was horrible, it all was, but she had to ask one more question.
“And my sister, are you going to honor your agreement to locate her as well?”
“Yes, Kayla Stewart has a lot to answer for, and we will be asking those questions.”
Braya started to say thank you, but the line went dead. Braya undid the lock and opened the door, turning around. She didn’t really know what to do next.
Axel stepped into the room but was standing at the door. Her bag had been packed, but Crash’s was still opened. She gathered up the few items, including the t-shirt she had worn the night before, holding it briefly to her chest before folding it and putting it in the bag. She looked around and realized there wasn’t anything else for her to do, so she zipped the bag shut, put it next to hers on the bed, and turned around.
“What do you need me to do?” It was better to get this over with, all of it, and figure out her next move than draw it out any further.
“You already did it, sweetheart. Two of my guys will be here in a minute, and we’ll drive you to the airport where you and I will board a plane for El Paso. I’ve made arrangements for a hotel close to your destination. Upon arrival, you’ll be able to eat, shower, and sleep. We’ll coordinate efforts with the RBMC on how to proceed on Monday morning.”
It was all so surreal, abrupt, and orderly. A part of her regretted she wouldn’t be riding behind Crash for the last leg of the trip, but she knew this was all for the best. The more detached she became, the better, but she had to try one more time.
“Is he okay?”
Axel looked at her, cocking his head to the side. It was several moments before he asked.
“Would you be?”
And that question answered everything. She wouldn’t. Everything went pretty quickly after that, just as Axel had said. Two men pulled up in an SUV, she and Axel got in, and they went to the airport. She had expected to have to wait in line for TSA and boarding, but Axel had directed her to another area of the airport where a private plane was waiting, and they boarded.
Axel directed her to a seat, before he spoke with the captain for a few minutes, then took the seat next to her. Braya had never been a fan of flying, but she was so utterly drained, she didn’t even do the normal things like put on her seat belt or grip the armrest, just waiting for the horrible feeling of being rushed forward. Axel seemed to realize she was at her end and buckled her seatbelt for her. What surprised her was the feel of his hand holding on to hers. She looked up at him.
“Sweetheart, I don’t have all the facts, but the ones I do have aren’t good. I’m going to give you some unsolicited advice. The longer you allow the people you love and care about to use you, the more they are going to take until there is nothing left.”
“What if there isn’t anything left?” Braya looked away from him and out the small window of the plane. She felt his grip on her hand tighten.
“You have a lot of life left, Braya. I think it’s time you started thinking about taking care of yourself, instead of everyone else.”
Braya laughed. This man, this stranger hit home with his words, but he didn’t have the first clue, or at least, she thought that for a moment. Until she remembered he gave Crash that information on her. She tried to remember what he had said, what she had heard, then it came to her—”She has even more baggage than the other chick you're chasing.” Yeah, that about summed up her life. It was time to snap herself out of this and deal.
Turning back to the man, she asked, “What do you think is really going on here? Seriously, because honestly, I don’t have the first clue. It’s almost like psychological warfare or something, keeping everyone involved on the edge of their seat, slamming them with information that will push them just far enough before adding the next thing.” That was when she stopped, saying those two words somehow made everything make sense. Abruptly she asked, “Can I use your phone?”
“Not until we are in the air, but what are you thinking?”
She didn’t know if she should answer him. She had a theory working in her head, but until she checked it out, she wouldn’t know for sure. Then again, what could it possibly hurt? But she had to know something first. “Do you know my sister, do you know Kayla Stewart?”
“No, I never met the woman, but I have been briefed about the situation. Why?”
“Nothing, don’t worry about it, I just had to ask.”
“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Axel said.
He was right, it was a lot if Braya was right about what she was thinking. Kayla had a lot to answer for, and Braya decided maybe letting one more person in wasn’t too bad of an idea. She needed to see if her theory made sense, or if she was just grasping at straws.
“Okay.” Turning slightly in her seat, she faced Axel more fully. “Let me ask you this, can you think of a single reason my sister would have sent those notes to me in the first place? I already know what information she has in the safe deposit box. But the drama, the effect, ‘If you are reading this, I have been taken,’ the whole set-up is like a movie. If you received the same letter from a loved one, what would be your first reaction?”
“I’d do whatever they asked to help or save them.”
“Exactly, it’s an emotional response. They say jump, and you do it because you can’t even fathom the outcome if you don’t. Kayla knows me inside and out, knows my deepest darkest secrets, so I was easy to play. But say you have another goal and another person you need to be in the right place at the right time, but they aren’t as predictable. You know their traits and tastes, but you still can’t pin them down. What would you do then?”
"I can see where you’re going with this, but I’m not catching on. Crash isn’t predictable, in the sense that he is and will always be a loose cannon, but he’s also methodical and determined. It’s what made him a good pilot and soldier.”
Braya smiled, feeling the pieces coming together.
“It’s about manipulation and keeping him off guard, not me. I overheard you, know you gave him information about me. Do you have any idea the lengths my family went to hide that information? But you guys got it easily and right when Crash needed it most.”
“I’m not following what do you mean. My boys are good. Our business is finding information people don’t want to be found.”
“And does Kayla know that? Is it possible she knew about you guys and what you do? I can tell you, she sure as shit knew exactly what the RBMC does. Not the common knowledge but the kind of thing that’s only told to the ones close to them or the people they save.”
Axel moved back in his seat a little, the furrow on his brow showing he was really thinking about it, not just dismissing her theory.
“I’ll admit it’s possible. We’ve been around a lot more, at the RBMC clubhouse and in the area. It would also be easy to figure out who the RBMC is allied with and which clubs they would call on for back up.”
“Yeah, and you have to take this into consideration. Kayla knows the RBMC women inside and out. They talk, come to her for counsel, consider her a friend. Secrets aren’t really secrets when it’s disguised as therapy.”
“Son of a bitch, if what you’re saying if it is true, damn it, none of this is good. My President's sister is one of those women. She knows things the other women wouldn’t about my club.”
“No, it isn’t, but let’s get back to it and follow the path.” Braya was getting excited now, gesturing, becoming more animated as she talked. Not because she was figuring out what the hell was going on but because it made perfect sense.
“Babe, I don’t know if I can follow your path anymore. What you’re saying puts my club, my family in danger.”
“I get it,” Braya said, putting her hand on his shoulder. She needed to finish this to draw the line, and he needed to follow along, just for her own peace of mind. “Forget that for a minute, and let’s go back so we can see how this is all set up.”
“The setup is fucked-up and pissing me off the more you talk, but okay, I’ll bite, go on.”
“So, you have all the players in place now, but you can’t have them thinking too clearly or feeling too safe. Put me and Crash in a room together for twenty-four hours. What do you think is going to happen?”
“Babe, you don’t want to hear what I think would happen.”
“Oh no, I really do. What do you think would happen? Unfettered access, high adrenaline, possible danger—like I said, my sister knows me and my type, and she knows Crash, has watched him for years.”
“Alright, I’ll bite. He would fuck ya, is that what you wanted to hear?”
“Exactly," Braya said. "Then he would be done. He isn’t the type to stick around. He’s a one and done type of guy, but that doesn’t fit with the plan. You and I both know he would have figured out a way to get to the bank and pull the information himself. You guys are all trained, there’s always an option B even if it doesn’t seem like it, so…”
“Holy shit, I see where you’re going. That information on you, it came in right after we stopped. I’ll need to make some calls to confirm, but Caine said he found it in an unlikely place.”
“I’m sure he did, right where Kayla put it to be found. Think about it, Crash reads it and is feeling sorry for me and my past. Logically, he would do the good guy thing and stick it out. Get me to the bank and the information, but how would this unpredictable man react when he actually sees the information implicating Duncan Stewart with his sister’s abduction, rape, and murder?”
“He would go off the rails like he did. He’s probably halfway to where that asshole is as we speak.”
“No, he isn’t. Don’t you see? It’s all part of the plan. His reaction to what was coming needed to be dimmed. He needed to get focused. He needed time to adjust and plan. To not go off the rails like you said but methodically consider his next move.”
“Your theory still doesn’t answer all the questions. Like where the fuck is your sister, how and why did the cartel back off, and why they're even involved in the first place. The dirty feds, I get. Daddy Warbucks paid them to understand that info, and you can bet your ass they will still want the payday from it, so they’ll be there, bright and early Monday morning. The fifty-K on your head also ensures that.”
“I don’t think she actually planned for the bounty, that her father would go that far, especially knowing my mother and my family. Not that they would care or step in, but Kayla doesn’t know that. I’ve never discussed it with her even though she’s asked me.”
“So, what now? If what you’re thinking is true, your sister isn’t in danger, she’s just pulling everyone’s strings. What is the purpose, why the big drama-filled excursion when she could have simply, at any time, turned over what she had and let the RBMC take care of it?”
“I honestly have no idea. It’s cruel almost and very much unlike the sister I know. But it makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does, and that’s some scary shit, Braya. If what you’re thinking is true, you don’t know your sister at all. Her next moves could be even worse than what she’s already done.”
Chapter Seventeen
The drive wasn’t helping him cool his anger in the least. Every mile that passed, the more pissed off he got. Thoughts from the past and present bombarded him from every direction. Shit, he had buried his sister years ago, but it was like he had just seen her yesterday. She was a tiny little thing, and she looked at him like Jewell said—like a hero. Like he could fix anything, and damn, he had tried. Protected her from bullies in school, from boys who wanted what they shouldn’t have wanted from his little sister. Everything, but then he failed her when she needed him the most.
He hadn’t been there, off doing his own thing. There had only been a couple years between them, and they were close. Or at least, they had been until he went in the service and things changed. Evie had changed. She started hanging out more and more with Jewell and getting into trouble. Drinking, drugs, men, you name it, the two of them were into it. Crash hadn’t paid much attention at the time, figured it was just some sort of phase. He’d gone through a crazy stage in his early teens and twenties too. It was just part of life. He figured there would always be time for them to reconnect and for Evie to get her shit together, but he had been wrong... so fucking wrong.
For years after that, guilt drove him until every single member of that club had paid the price for their part in his sister's’ death. But it still ate at him like he hadn’t done enough to avenge her. He threw himself into his work with the RBMC and tried to do good, save as many people as he could. Sought out assignments and worked his ass off, but no matter how many people he managed to save, it still wasn’t enough. It didn’t bring her back, and it didn’t assuage his guilt.
Now this. Knowing Kayla knew who was ultimately responsible and didn’t say a damn thing to him. That was a tough pill to swallow. He had considered her a friend. He had been willing to make Kayla his Ol’ Lady to protect her ass, to make her feel safe. No strings, just someone to be there, and look what she’d done. He fucking trusted her with things he hadn’t imagined ever trusting anyone else with. They talked, she knew and still... It was bullshit, and yet again, there was another part of him that knew he had done those things because, in a fucked-up way, he was still trying to save his sister. Kayla had replaced Evie in a way—she had made it out, she had been saved when Evie hadn’t.
He needed to make plans and figure out what his next move was going to be after getting into the safe deposit box. He needed the information on Duncan Stewart he asked Tuck for. Pulling up to yet another gas station, he pulled his phone up and wanted to throw the dead ass thing against the concrete. Fucking A! Couldn't anything go right on this trip from hell? Thankfully he still had his damn wallet on him. When he reached for it, he felt the envelope Axel had given him on Braya.
Standing there, filling
his gas tank, looking at that damn envelope, he realized something was seriously messed up. He had never believed in coincidences, yet every move this past damn day had revealed one coincidence after the other. He needed to push everything else out of his mind and just think about the facts.
A person he had known for years and had investigated had an unknown sister. One who just happens to show up at his clubhouse with a letter, saying said friend was in trouble and needed help. But wait, there’s a catch, a letter for him as well, after three months of not a single words from that “friend.” Then there’s Braya. Beautiful and perfect in just about every way to get his juices flowing. Sporting the body type he was drawn too—nice ass, big tits perfect fucking smile with an attitude, but not too much, just enough. She was still shy and helpless enough to draw out his protective instincts. She hadn’t been shy when he walked out of that bathroom. No, not even close. She spread her legs and basically begged for it.
He knew he was being played, felt it all the way to his soul. The problem was he didn’t know who the fuck was playing him, Braya or Kayla, or maybe they were in on it together. But why, what was the purpose? Duncan Stewart was a dead man, that was a given if that was the end goal. Why all the drama and other shit? He knew he had pegged Braya right. She didn’t know who the fuck she was. All that woman was trying to do was get through each day and do what she thought was right, or at least tried to. So that left Kayla—sweet, damaged Kayla.
One person no one would suspect of plotting or planning a damn thing. She couldn’t even function on a daily basis without her service dog by her side. But was that really the truth? Before she left Defiance, things had changed. She had been acting differently. The same scared woman only came out when she knew eyes were on her; other times she was lost in her head. At first, he’d thought that was because of the attack by that asshole Haslet, but it was more than that. She’d gotten away and driven right to the RBMC, to him.
Crash: Ruthless Bastards (RBMC Book 9) Page 12