Blood Revealed (Brimstone Lords MC Book 6)

by Sarah Zolton Arthur

  Because there are men passed out in the common, Boss, Elise, and I lean against the counters to eat. I’m halfway through my bowl when Boss’s cell rings. He pulls it from his pocket, stares at the screen a beat, and answers it.

  “Everything okay?” he asks. I don’t know who’s on the line, but it is a bit early for friendly calls. “Fuck,” he says. “We’re on the way.”

  My back goes rigid. From the tone of his voice, this can’t be good.

  “Beau?” Elise asks.

  “Maryanne. She’s gone into early labor. They need us, darlin’.”

  Oh god. She’s quite pregnant, but it’s still too early.

  “Right,” Elise says as she turns to set her bowl in the sink. “Let me grab my purse. Warm up the truck.”

  Maryanne is my friend, too. “Would you mind if I came with? I only have to grab my purse and phone.”

  “Do it, sweetheart,” he says. I set my bowl in the sink and run to grab a jacket, my purse, and phone. Raif’s still sleeping. Before leaving, I scribble him out a note about breakfast and where I’m headed. I leave it under his phone so he won’t miss it, then run back out to meet up with Boss and Elise.

  A now fully dressed Boss holds the backdoor to his truck open for me. Elise is already inside the front. Please. I say a little prayer. Let Maryanne and the baby be fine. I’m not usually much of a prayer, but I figure since it’s not for me, maybe it’ll count a little more.

  The roads, at least, are clear. It’s chilly out. Seeing as we’ve just entered spring, that’s to be expected, but traversing the mountains in snow can sometimes be a son of a bitch. Being from Texas, I’m a warm weather girl anyway.

  Aside from a worried Tommy, who meets us at the entrance to the emergency room holding Gun in his arms, we’re the only ones to show. “Her parents are on their way,” Tommy tells Boss. “My folks are out of town.”

  “You need me to call ’em?” Boss asks as he reaches for his son’s outstretched arms. Gun grips handfuls of his daddy’s T-shirt in his pudgy, little fists, burying his face in Boss’s beard. “Got a lot on your mind right now. Point me to what you need me to do, brother.”

  “Thanks, man. I’m not sure if I need to call ’em or not. Don’t wanna bring ’em home for nothin’.”

  “She’s gonna be okay, Tommy,” Elise says. She lays her head on his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist. “The baby, too.”

  “That’s my family,” he says in a moment of weakness, his voice cracking, which brings tears to my eyes. Big, strong Sgt. Tommy Doyle of the Thornbriar Police Department with a voice crack? I can’t even comprehend how scared he must be. Maryanne is a good friend. And what if this happens to my sister? My stomach aches. I regret the half bowl of oatmeal now.

  My phone rings. It’s a good distraction. Raif’s calling. “Yeah, babe?” I answer.

  “How is she?” he asks.

  “We don’t know yet. Just got here. Tommy is filling Boss in. The man’s skin is ashen, Raif. I’ve never known Tommy to have ashen skin. He’s so scared.”

  “That’s his woman, his kid. I’d be out of my mind if it were you.” And just like that, I’m no longer pissed at Raif about last night.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  “Tell Boss and Tommy I’m on my way, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “He needs to prepare; Tommy and Maryanne mean a lot to the club. Word gets out, General’s getting flooded with Lords and Lord women.”

  “I’ll tell him that too.”

  “Right. Hanging up now, baby. And Han?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Love you, too.”

  Slowly, I walk back over to their little group to let them know that Thornbriar General is about to host an influx of bikers and their women. As scared as he is, his appreciation shows clearly on his face as he realizes how much he and Maryanne mean to everyone.

  About fifteen minutes after hanging up with Raif, the man himself rushes into the waiting room with about ten other people on his heels.

  My eyes light up at the sight of him. Disheveled and totally sexy, as if he saw my note and didn’t even bother to do more than dress in order to make it here for his, well, I’d say friends, but the Doyles are family.

  He notices me and his flatline lips of concern tip up into a gorgeous smile. Raif walks to me and I walk to him, meeting in the center. His arms wrap around my waist and he kisses me. “You better never do this to me,” he says.

  “Kiss you or go to the hospital?” I ask, semi-teasing.

  “Woman,” he says. “When you’re having our kids. Don’t think my heart could handle it.”

  Oh yeah, I love this man more than he probably realizes. “I’ll do my best,” I answer, although the best gets muffled when he presses his lips to mine again.

  Once he pulls away, I take his hand to lead him to Tommy and Boss. Tommy gives him a half-hug ending with a back pat. “Thanks for being here,” Tommy says.

  All Raif has to say is, “Brother.”

  Not twenty minutes after Raif, Sneak, Trisha, Chaos, Livvy, Scotch, Frankie, Duke, Caitlin, and even Crass and Brighton show up, a second influx of Lords crash the party, including my sister and Hero carrying trays of coffees. Crass and Brighton stopped for doughnuts. At least a good three dozen judging from the three large boxes Crass carried inside.

  We hunker down waiting for news of Maryanne. After a while, the doctor shows up. He greets Caitlin and turns to Tommy. He doesn’t have to ask who’s there for Maryanne Doyle. Everybody in town knows Tommy and Maryanne.

  They speak quietly, then the doctor turns to walk back through the double doors, followed by Tommy and Caitlin. I guess it’s good to have a doctor in the family.

  By this time, the coffee and nerves have gotten to me and I excuse myself to find the restroom. My guess, the hospital has never seen this level of laughing and frivolity. But that’s the Lords. They come when needed and if required to be serious, they’ll be serious. Since we don’t yet know how serious it is, to help one of our own feel better, they joke and tell stupid stories. Anything to take our minds off what no one has any control over.

  Before leaving, I kiss my husband on the cheek. It’s kind of nice to get away from the scrum of bodies and noise to get my thoughts together. Raif wants a family. I’ve always secretly wanted a family, but I never dared to dream. Not with the specter of Carlos Escalante hanging over my head. How could I ever bring a baby into that? Since I couldn’t have a real relationship, what would my child do if he got to me? I know what it’s like to wake up to news that your mother is just gone. Period. No trace of her.

  I was lucky enough to have Cassandra until she got taken from us too. One of the girls would probably take up the cause in my stead, Elise or Caitlin or Brinley, but—I wipe at my eyes. Don’t go down that road, Hannah. You’ve got a man, a husband. You’ve got… Something firm presses against my ribs at the same time a large, tanned hand grips my upper arm.

  “Scream and die.” Escalante’s man? How the hell did he make it past all those leather-clad, gun-toting men?

  Since I don’t want to die, I don’t scream. But as he drags me from the restroom, I keep my eyes open for an escape. It seems Escalante’s henchman can read my mind.

  “Go ahead. Try to make your escape. But let me be clear. Escalante wants you, but if he can’t have you, you’ll be dead before any of the brothers”—he says the word brothers with such disdain— “know you’re gone. He’s willing to take that sweet piece we mistakenly took before in exchange. What’s her name? Elise.”

  At his use of her name, my back goes rigid. She’s a mother. I know Escalante doesn’t care about that. She’s gorgeous. He’d house her in his stable of women or sell her for top dollar.

  “I won’t fight you,” I reply.

  Instead of dragging me, I keep up the pace, leaving voluntarily with the man. Silently, I send my love to my husband.

  The parking lot is an ocean of Harleys. An ocean of Harleys with waves of chrome,
leather, black or red or orange from flames, trucks of various models and colors, though the prevailing seems to be shades of gray, and one long, black Cadillac Escalade SUV. He shoves the gun deeper into my side to get me to veer toward the SUV. The windows are blacked out and from that, I know he’s in there. When we reach the vehicle, the henchman opens the back door, shoving me inside. As always, Escalante sits in the back wearing a white, linen suit and a scowl. The driver has on dark sunglasses and a black suit.

  Before his henchman even closes the door, I know I’m in trouble. Escalante looks me up and down, tipping his lips from the scowl to a grin, which comes off as sinister because it’s meant to. His dead eyes complete a face that could be considered handsome and monstrous. “You’ve been bad, making me chase you all over the country.”

  He reaches across the seat to pop me in the jaw. Closed fist. “You’re mine. You seem to forget I own this”—he grabs me by the hair on top of my head, wrenching my head backward causing me to crack my teeth together—“and this”—he drops his hand to squeeze my breast hard enough to cause pain—“and this.” He finishes by grabbing a fistful of my crotch. It hurts and I’m humiliated, but I refuse to give him the tears burning like a forest fire behind my eyes because that’s the reaction he wants.

  “What?” He raises an eyebrow. “Nothing to say?”

  Even as my stomach clenches, I force a smile back at him. “You’re going to die.”

  That gets me a backhand across my cheek. “Oh no, my dear.” He pauses for effect, taking in a quiet breath. The slight glistening above his lip is the only indication that I’ve rattled him. “I will be fine, but you… you will wish for death before I’m through.”

  On that point, I’m a hundred percent sure. But I don’t regret giving myself up to him if it means I’ve saved a family. Escalante has taken so many years from Raif and me, years we could’ve been building our own family. Taking trips, doing runs. I will forever miss the only man I’ve ever loved, but Duke found another to love after he lost his Dawna, someone as good and loyal as Raif will too eventually. Of this, I have no doubts.

  We drive for forty-five minutes. There’s a digital clock on the dash glowing green to keep my attention as it keeps me informed of the passing time. When we turn off the main road the sense of foreboding takes over. I’ve tried to keep track of my surroundings, but with the windows blacked out, the only place I can see through is the front window.

  Discreetly, I try to stretch my neck around so I can see where we’re heading, but Escalante knows my deal and he backhands me across the face, putting a stop that. I reach up and press my hand to the stinging spot on my cheek and shrink back down.

  The road we turn down is either a private drive or a private road because it’s smoother than the road that we just turned off of. The driver eases the SUV to a stop and Escalante’s henchman gets out, opening Escalante’s door for him. He wrenches me from the vehicle by the arm.

  We’re at a small, private airport with hangars to each side of the airfield. The black tar runway cutting through the middle. The metal hangars have been painted a distinctive burgundy with the outline of a crest painted in gold and white shadowing, a beautifully scripted EJ panted in gold with white shadowed lettering inside the outline on the big roller door, which slides open by a man in a gray jumpsuit, like the ones mechanics wear.

  The pilot backs out a private jet—white, with a matching crest, only this one has burgundy shadowing dropping down from the crest and letters. Slowly, the hydraulics push the door open, revealing burgundy painted steps and an opulent gold handrailing. Whoever EJ is, apparently, he likes his opulence.

  As I’m ushered toward the steps, it’s at this point that my fight or flight response takes over and I start kicking and screaming, clawing and biting, when someone’s shoulder, arm, or hand gets close enough to my mouth. The henchman grabs me from behind, trapping my arms down at my sides. I throw my head back, cracking him in the nose, continuing to kick and scream. If I get on this plane, I’m done for. I know I’m done for.

  I should’ve paid better attention. Escalante approaches me and he’s carrying something small in his hand. I hear the hum of electricity, then I feel the burning zing of the prongs touching my neck. My body goes rigid. He holds the prongs to my skin a second longer and—

  14.

  Raif

  The waiting room is full of brothers and their old ladies all waiting for news on Marianne’s condition. Seems Hannah’s been gone for a while. I pull my phone to check the time and yeah, it’s been twenty minutes, so I search, looking at every head in the room to see if one of them belongs to her. None of them do. I walk quickly down the hallway to the restrooms where she told me she’d be, worrying that she might have gotten sick or the stress of what’s happening with Maryanne’s getting to her. I knock on the door then enter, checking every stall. Its empty. The bathroom’s empty.

  My heart sinks. I run back into the waiting room to check a second time, pausing at each head of blonde hair. My wife’s not there. In a panic, I run from our group, poking my head in every room that I can possibly check, occupied and unoccupied on the floor, hoping that maybe she’s in one because she took a wrong turn or stopped because she saw someone she knew. She isn’t and she hasn’t. I’m back in front of the restroom again with my hands pressed against my knees holding on for dear life. If I let go, I’ll fall. This can’t be happening. Fucking can’t be happening.

  That’s when I feel hands gently grip my arm and I hear my sister’s voice. “Raif, what’s wrong?”

  “She’s gone. Hannah’s fucking gone,” I bark at Liv, who doesn’t deserve my anger, but when animals are backed into a corner, they attack. I’m an animal backed into a corner right now.

  “She can’t be gone—what do you mean? She was right here just—”

  “Yeah, like twenty minutes ago.” This time, I don’t bark because my head goes fuzzy and there’s a sharp pain in my chest. I can’t catch my breath. It feels like a heart attack, but I think it’s a panic attack. I think this is what they feel like, though I don’t remember ever having a fucking panic attack. I fucking hate that I’m panicking. I didn’t before when she was taken. I was pissed and worried, but not panicked. Now I’ve got this terrible feeling that Escalante has vengeance on his mind. Hannah got away from him twice. How’s he going to make her pay for that? He’s had to hunt her down and send his henchmen to grab her twice. How’s he going to make her pay for that? Her list of transgressions keeps going up.

  My sister pulls her phone from her pocket, clicking out a message, then shoves it back in her pocket to grip the back of my neck. “Raif, you have to come down. Please. You’re not doing Hannah any good freaking out and you’re scaring me, big brother.”

  “What’s going on?”

  I hear Chaos, my best friend and brother-in-law, and look up to see him hobbling down the hallway from the waiting room. He’s got Boss and Tommy on his tail.

  “What’s happened?” Tommy asks.

  “Hannah’s gone. She went to the restroom and didn’t show back up. I came to check to make sure she was okay, but she’s gone. I can’t find her anywhere.”

  “Right,” Boss says, pulling his phone from the inside pocket of his cut. “Getting the brothers.” He makes his call and seconds later, we’re joined by Scotch, Duke, Hero, Sneak, Crass, Sly, and every other man who showed up today to support Tommy and Maryanne.

  “Liv, baby, stay with me.” Chaos grabs my sister’s hand. “We need to split up, check every floor.”

  The brothers pair up and take off running toward the elevators. Each pair is assigned a floor, including the basement.

  “I’m heading for security.” Tommy’s gone into police mode, but his wife is here, for Christ’s sake. He needs to be with her.

  “Your wife, man,” I protest. “That’s your family. You need to be with them.”

  “She’s with Caitlin and the doctors. They’ve managed to stop the labor but are keeping her overnight fo
r observation. She’s in good hands. If Hannah’s missing, we’re losing time.”

  Tommy takes off in a fast walk, his back straight and full of authority, headed for the security desk. I jog to catch up. Once we get there, he explains the situation to the officer behind the desk. The officer uses the mouse to pull up a file and he clicks on it, bringing up the video footage from the emergency room doors, the waiting room, and the hallway. He scrolls back to when we first got to the hospital. Using that as our point of reference, he’s able to fast forward through each of the video feeds to find when Hannah leaves to use the restroom.

  While we wait, I try her phone. It goes right to voicemail. I send a text. It’s marked undelivered. Her phone has to be off or destroyed.

  Then on the screen, we see her. The moment she walks into the ladies’ room, the door shutting behind her, and then right before my eyes, a big motherfucker wearing a fitted silver suit, with tan skin and black or brown hair—he looks like one of the cartel men we dealt with a while back—looks left and right before slipping into the women’s restroom behind her. Maybe twenty seconds later, Hannah walks out with the man close on her heels. He’s got something in his hand. We zoom in. It’s not clear what he’s holding, but the more we zoom in, the blurrier the picture becomes. Though we all know it’s a gun.

  He bends down to whisper something in Hannah’s ear and they walk. She doesn’t put up a fight, which means whatever he said to her I know it must’ve been bad. I’ll bet any amount of money he threatened the people she loves because that’s the only way my Hannah wouldn’t have gone out kicking and screaming.

  Seeing this, I know I have to get my shit together. That’s when I reach inside to find it. Determination. Fuck panic.

  Next, the security officer switches to the outdoor cameras and rewinds the feed back to when we watched Hannah and the man walk out the doors of the emergency. He leads her to a big Cadillac Escalade, black with tinted windows, forcing her into the back. He climbs into the front passenger seat, slamming the door.