by Bella Jewel
“Seriously?”
She raises her brows. “Yes, seriously. We can’t risk you getting caught. Trust me. Put it on, it’s real, and it’s super comfy.”
I scowl at the wig, and the little sock looking thing she gives me to put on my head. I lean down and bunch my hair up, pulling the little sock over my head. I no doubt look terrible, but whatever. I take the wig and pull it on, letting the thick brown waves flow over my shoulders, then I look to Scarlett. Her eyes widen. “Dang, girl. I thought you looked hot as a red head, but you look super smokin’ as a brunette, too.”
“Fuck yeah,” Maverick mutters. “Nice.”
I flush and glance at Koda, who is staring at me with an expression that makes me want to jump his bones. God, why does he have to look so incredibly gorgeous, and be such a dick?
“Glasses, a scarf.” Scarlett smiles, throwing two more items at me.
I pull on the sunglasses and wrap the scarf around my neck. Then I put my hands out to the side. “Well? What do you think?”
“You’re a new woman.” She claps. “It’s not fool proof, but better to be a little safe than very sorry.”
She’s right about that.
“Okay, let’s get moving,” Malakai says. “Koda, you ride with us.”
We make our way to Malakai’s truck and climb in. I get in the back, thankful the windows are really tinted. Then we start making our way into town. It’s been a while since I’ve been in here, well, okay, it hasn’t been that long, but with everything that has happened, it sure feels like it. Butterflies flutter around in my stomach at the sheer thought of this going wrong.
I try not to think too much on it and just zone out. Malakai and Koda chat in the front, and every now and then they glance at me in the rearview mirror. They know I’m nervous, but what they don’t know is that I’m not only nervous but terrified. I’m terrified of making the wrong call and putting the whole club in danger.
“Here,” Malakai says, after about half an hour of driving.
The old house I remember from the few times I came here when I was younger hasn’t changed. It has aged, sure, and the white paint that was once bright has now faded. But otherwise, the two-story home surrounded by lush gardens is still the same. I wonder if Slater ever found anyone? I never knew if he had a family or not. He rarely spoke, and when he did it was purely to say what needed to be said and that was all.
“Ready?” Koda asks, looking back at me.
I nod, and the two men get out of the car first, glancing around, before encouraging me out. I’m shaking as I climb out. Every movie I’ve ever seen about people being shot from a distance comes crashing into my mind, and I nervously look around. I take a step closer to Koda, not realizing I’m doing it until my hand curls around his arm and he jerks a little. I let him go quickly and step back. “Sorry,” I whisper. “I … I just started imagining getting shot.”
His eyes fall to mine, and I see something very real in them for a second before he shuts it down. Instead, he surprises me by stepping closer and curling an arm around my waist, wedging me to his side. I could still get shot, of course, but it makes me feel a whole lot safer. And that’s nice.
We walk up to the front door of Slater’s home and Malakai knocks. We wait for a few long minutes, and I swallow, wondering if maybe he’s not home. It’s a possibility, of course. But, after a few minutes, the door opens and a familiar face appears. Slater wasn’t a great deal older than me when I was a teenager, probably in his early twenties. He’s now somewhere in his thirties.
And equally as breathtaking.
I’ve not seen many men like him. So utterly terrifying, and yet you can’t look away from the dark pits of his eyes.
Black as the night.
Skin olive.
Hair long and thick, flowing in messy waves around his shoulders.
Dark eyebrows, one with a scar running through, that continues a little way down the side of his face.
Big lips.
Huge body, muscled and tattooed.
Completely empty soul.
He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at the three of us, his eyes mostly moving from Malakai, to Koda, back to Malakai again. They’re not wearing their jackets, but they’re big men, scary, and intimidating. Though, I’m certain not much intimidates Slater.
“Slater,” I say, deciding to make the first move, considering nobody else seems to want to. “I don’t know if you remember me, but … well … you probably do remember me. I just …”
I’m faltering. I’m scared. Terrified as soon as I tell him who I am he’ll do something crazy and I’ll end up in my father’s hands. Hell, he might even decide to kill me himself and get the money.
I take a shaky breath.
Koda and Malakai are here.
“It’s me,” I say softly. “Charlene.”
Slater’s eyes finally move to me, and he stares at me. Of course he can’t see much, I’m decked out. So, slowly, I remove the sunglasses, the scarf, and the wig, letting my red hair flow down and around my shoulders.
“I need your help.”
For a moment, he just stares at me, and my heart is racing so hard I feel it pounding against my ribcage. Malakai has his hand near his back pocket, no doubt ready to pull a gun if need be.
“You got a death wish, kid?” Slater rumbles, his voice exactly as I remember.
Husky and a little broken.
But he always called me kid.
Always.
I smile, and my lips tremble. “It would appear I do, yes, but you’re the only person who might be able to help me. Can we come in?”
Slater looks to Malakai, then Koda. “I’ll let you in, when you tell me what the fuck you’re doin’ hangin’ out with members of the Iron Fury MC.”
How in the hell did he know that?
Oh, God.
Does my father already know where I am?
“Does he know already?” I stammer. “Oh, God. He does. We need to …”
“Calm down,” Slater orders, voice hard. “He don’t know shit. I know who they are. If you’re here to cause problems, fuckin’ don’t.”
Malakai studies Slater then shakes his head. “Care about this girl. Want her safe. Not here to cause problems, unless you’ve got a problem to cause.”
Slater, and his hard face, holds Malakai’s stare for a while, then he nods and steps back, letting us inside.
We move to the living room and sit at a round dining table. Slater does not sit. He stands. I imagine men like Slater rarely sit.
From this chair, he looks even more intimidating.
He’s huge.
“What do you want?” he demands, voice gruff.
“I want your help,” I tell him. “I might be wrong, really, really wrong, but I have a feeling you and my father aren’t working together because you’re loyal to him. I have a feeling you’re there because you have to be. I always felt it. I always saw the way you looked at him. Because of that, I’m hoping … we’re hoping … that you’ll help us take him down.”
Slater grunts. “You lost your mind, kid? You know how powerful Shanks is. He ain’t gettin’ taken down anytime soon.”
“Yes, but we have a plan …,” I protest.
“Like the last fuckin’ plan you had?” he growls.
I shrink into my seat. Because my last plan got my father locked away, but not forever. Now we’re back to square one.
“I was afraid, I had no other way. It’s different now. I’m never going to live in peace until he’s taken down and his operation with him.”
“And how,” Slater growls, “the fuck, do you think you’re goin’ to do that?”
“You’re goin’ to,” Malakai says. “You agree to help us, we’ll give you whatever the fuck you want. The plan is simple; we start a war with someone bigger by double crossing Shanks. Cartel, Mafia, I don’t fuckin’ care. We make it look like he’s fucked them over. They’ll do the dirty work for us.”
Slater glares at Malakai.
The room becomes tense.
“You want your freedom,” Koda finally speaks. “Can see it in your eyes. Whatever the fuck that piece of shit had, or has, over you, it’s eaten you alive and taken every piece of you with it. You want freedom, we give you freedom.”
“How the fuck you think you can give me freedom?” Slater growls.
Koda grins, but it’s cold, and so damned certain.
“We patch you in.”
For a moment, everyone in the room goes silent. I’m quite shocked, because I didn’t expect those words to come out of Koda’s mouth. Patch him in. That’s a big deal—huge, even. Getting patched into the club, that’s everything. It isn’t something they take lightly.
I glance at Malakai who is staring at Koda, the look on his face furious. He’s the president, and Koda just stepped over the line in a big way.
“Yeah?” Slater says, his voice gruff.
Everyone turns and looks to him.
“Not sure it’s up to him,” Malakai grinds out. “Don’t know you. Don’t trust you yet. What makes you think I’d want to patch you in to my club?”
Slater looks to me, then crosses his arms. “Obviously, her life matters to you or you wouldn’t be here. Which means you’re negotiable. You knew I wouldn’t do it for nothin’, you’re not that fuckin’ stupid. Been tied into Shanks’ world for far too fuckin’ long, and I have my reasons for it. What I do not have is a way out. I do what you ask, I earn your trust, I want in to your club. I want freedom. And I want your help.”
Malakai stares at the big man. “My club is my family, my fuckin’ life. You understand I can’t just patch anyone in without first knowin’ they’re trustworthy. and there for life. You tellin’ me you’d be there for life, loyal, have our backs? Because right fuckin’ now, you’re not showin’ a great deal of loyalty to Shanks.”
Ouch.
I even flinch at that one, because we want Slater’s help, we don’t want to push him further away. Koda glares at Malakai, but Malakai holds Slater’s eyes. Watching. Studying. No doubt learning.
“You ever loved somethin’ so fuckin’ hard your soul belongs to it?”
Slater’s words shock me. One, because he rarely says anything outside of whatever subject he’s on, and two, because he has never spoken about anything that matters to him. I figured my father had something on him, obviously. Because he wouldn’t be sticking around if he didn’t, but what that is, I’m not entirely sure.
Malakai nods, because of course he has. He loves Amalie and would lay down his life for her.
“Then imagine losing it, but it not being fully gone, fuckin’ imagine, for one second, livin’ over a fuckin’ decade wonderin’ where the fuck that person is, if they’re alive, and what kind of hell they’ve been livin’ in, because some filthy motherfucker took them from you.”
My heart breaks. I knew whatever Slater was working with my father for was deep, I just didn’t realize it went that deep.
“So, I’m not fuckin’ free. I’m with him because he’s the only fuckin’ person who has information. He knows it. I know it. And he knows I’ll never fuckin’ step away until he gives me what I need. Only he’s not fuckin’ givin’ it to me, knowin’ full well I’ll never stop until I find her. But I’m tired, I’m a fuckin’ slave and I’m tired. I want out. I’ll find her on my own. Can’t just get out, as you fuckin’ know. Need protection. Need someone to have my back. Your club, you can give me that. But don’t, fuckin’ don’t, ever question my fuckin’ loyalty again.”
Oh, god.
Malakai steps forward, getting closer to Slater. “You do what we need and pull it off, showin’ us your loyalty by riddin’ the world of that scumbag, and I’ll patch you in. You’ll have my clubs protection. We’ll have your back. You fuck me over, I will come after you, and I will make you wish you were never fuckin’ born.”
Slater doesn’t flinch at these words, he simply nods and extends his hand. “You have my word.”
I believe him. I trust him. And I know Malakai does, too. There is something about Slater, something real. He isn’t sketchy or shady, he just made it very clear why he has been by my father’s side for so long, why he has been so loyal. Because he has lost someone very close to him and would do anything to find her.
What happened to her?
I’m burning to know.
“Slater,” I ask, crossing my arms and rubbing them, “the girl you’re speaking of, what happened to her?”
Malakai steps back, and Koda steps forward. “Got resources. Good tracker. We can help you find her, you help us get rid of that motherfucker.”
“Shanks is the only person who might know where she is, or who the fuck has her, and he is keepin’ it wrapped up tight. Can’t wait forever for him to break it loose, got to try somewhere else. Got to get answers. Got to get closure. Her name is Ellie …”
The moment he says that name, my knees shake and I stumble backward, crashing into a coffee table. Koda moves quickly, grabbing hold of my arm so I don’t fall. Tears burn under my eyelids, and vomit rises in my throat. Koda steadies me, but my head is spinning. Everything feels like it’s going to collapse around me.
Ellie.
The girl in the basement. The girl I tried to save but nobody could find her. The girl my father said didn’t exist. The girl I walked out on because I was too afraid to help her. The stolen, broken girl that was in chains.
I hiccup and make a pained sound.
Slater steps toward me, big hand curling around my upper arm, and he pulls me close, forcing Koda to let go. He leans in, eyes holding mine. “You know somethin’. You fuckin’ know somethin’.”
“Yes,” I whisper. “Yes, I know something.”
All eyes turn to me.
“Speak,” Slater demands.
“I-I-I-I,” I stammer, then take a deep breath and whisper, “Let me go so I can stand up straight, and I’ll tell you all I know.”
Slater lets me go, and I compose myself, standing up straight. This isn’t a time for fall into a heap. I need to stay calm, even though my chest is tight, my heart is racing, and my stomach is turning. I didn’t know that girl was Slater’s—hell, I didn’t know much about her at all, just that she was in a basement, and when I tried to find out more, everyone acted like she didn’t exist.
But I knew she did.
And I didn’t help her.
I should have helped her.
A decade.
A whole decade.
What happened to her in that time?
~*~*~*~
THEN – CHARLIE
“What did you find out?” my father barks. “Did you get anything?”
I shake my head. “No, he had nothing in his office, or bedroom, and there was nothing to indicate he is double crossing you. Though him and Carl were having a deep conversation, they stopped quickly when I came in.”
My father’s face darkens. “If that boy is in on it, I’ll gut him …”
“I don’t think he is, but I think his uncle is trying to get him in on it. As far as I know, Carl is interested in working with you. Very interested. I think his uncle is twisting things to make it seem like he’s on your side, but there is a chance he’s giving Carl the wrong information, possibly to get him to make the mistake and get caught for it.”
My father nods, almost looking impressed. “Very smart man. What else?”
Should I tell him about Ellie? Should I tell him that I found her? If I call the police, I’ll end up dead, probably worse, my father would make sure of it. If my father thinks Carl’s uncle is against him, he might just use Ellie, get her out, use her to get his uncle into trouble, and she might go free. I don’t know how else I’ll get that girl out of there.
I honestly don’t.
“There is something else.”
My father steps forward, curling a hand around my shoulder and squeezing so hard, I wince. “What the fuck have I said about dancing around? You tell me everything I need to fuckin’ know
, and you do it quickly.”
My eyes water from the pain, and after a second, he finally lets go. I step back, shoulder throbbing. I hate him. I hate him so much it burns. Right down into the depths of my soul.
“There was a girl,” I say, warily. I’m nervous. I don’t know if I’m about to condemn the girl forever, or set her free. Either way, there is no hope of me getting back into that house again, not even with Carl, and to get into the basement again is zero to none chance. Which means this is my only chance.
My father glances at me, eyes empty, and hard. “What girl?”
“I found a door … in his bedroom. It went down into a basement. There was a girl in there, she was chained up, and scared, and she said her name was Ellie.”
My father’s eyes flare, and he steps forward so fast I jerk when his hand curls around my shoulder once more. “There was no fuckin’ girl. You understand me?”
Huh?
“Yes, there was … There was a girl and—”
He raises a fist and hits me so hard I go flying back, slamming into his desk so hard the corner hits my spine and I scream out in agony. I drop to the ground, and my father comes over, crouching down and curling his fist in my hair, jerking me up until I’m screaming in pain. “There is no fucking girl. I ever hear you mention it, I ever hear you say that again, I will put a knife against your throat and slit it. I don’t fuckin’ need you, bitch.”
“Yes, you do,” I spit back, fire and pain ripping through my body. “There was a—”
He hits me so hard my jaw cracks and my screams fill the room. I roll backward, crying in pain, and he walks over, putting his boot to my throat and pushing down so hard I can’t breathe. The pressure is so intense, and for a moment, I see my life flash before me. The pathetic, broken life I’ve been leading because of this man.
This monster.
When I start to see stars and my vision blurs, I know he could do it. He could honestly do it. He’s beaten me so many times I have forgotten the amount, and he’s spat cruel words at me, and he’s done so many awful things. But I never actually thought he could kill me. But when I look up into his eyes now and see the cold ones staring back down at me.
