The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  “That must be the broad Deuce said Rush is obsessed with,” Jack states.

  “Obsessed?” Needles scoffs. “That man needs her rancid ass like he needs oxygen, he’s fixed on her. His old lady caught him a hundred times fucking that shit and threatened to cut his dick off, but the motherfucker kept going back for more.”

  “Don’t talk about her like that,” Stryker grunts. “He’s the reason she’s a fucking mess. He got his hooks into her when she was young. He turned her into a junkie and made her everything she is.”

  “Really don’t give a fuck about some washed up cunt right now,” I grind out. “Get to the point when you tell me where my daughter is,” I demand.

  “I don’t know where your daughter is. Like I was saying, we tried to confront him over the missing money and he started shouting about Deuce being a rat bastard. Then he went off the wall talking about some Russian, said the Russian was coming and he was going to kill him. I don’t know anything about a Russian,” Bas says.

  “Back in the day, he used to deal with a Russian, but that was years ago. I don’t remember his name. He’d come around every once in a while with fresh pussy. Rush would sample and decide if he wanted to keep them around. That Russian supplied us with some of the finest whores we’ve ever had skirting these walls, but he hasn’t been here in years, not since Bas took the VP seat,” Needles explains.

  Anger grips me in a vice as I hear the truth I’ve always known become a reality. For the longest time it was Rick’s word, his findings and his theories of what Yankovich did to the girls he took. Now I’m in a clubhouse with men that wear the reaper as proudly as I do. It all becomes clear. While I was hunting the man that took these girls, they were the men who fucked them. They didn’t ask where they came from or if they were once good girls who were taken by a monster. They didn’t wonder if they had a good family missing them or dreams they wished to one day conquer. They were nothing more than a piece of pussy.

  “Before we could ask him what the fuck he was ranting about, four prospects charged into his office. Three of them had your guy, and the other had the baby,” Bas says, turning his eyes back to me. “She appeared to be fine, a little scared maybe. Rush called in Ally right away. The junkie may not be worth shit but she took the kid. I know that doesn’t make it better for you, but you’d rather your baby girl be in Ally’s arms than any of the assholes who took her in the first place.”

  Trying to hold my voice together, I lower my gun and swallow down the lump in my throat.

  “Was she crying?”

  “No,” he answers.

  Sighing, I roughly run my fingers through my short hair.

  “Deuce was fucked up. The prospects gave him a beating. He was barely conscious, but he kept telling Rush to let the kid go. Rush flipped. From what I could gather taking the kid wasn’t his plan. I’m figuring he sent the prospects to grab Deuce and send a message to your club. Deuce had the kid and they took her too.”

  “We tried to get the kid,” Needles reveals.

  “That’s when Rush started shooting up the place. Got two guys in the back that need to be buried and another bleeding out in his bed. It got real ugly real fast. Before we knew it he had the prospects take Deuce, Ally and the kid out to the cage. He shot his way out of the clubhouse and took off with them,” Bas tells us.

  She may not have been crying when she entered this hell hole but when she left Skylar had to be fucking terrified.

  “We got to find his daughter,” Jack tells Bas. “Do you have anything? Any fucking idea where he could’ve gone?”

  “No, man, the only things we found were two leasing contracts. Both of them are scheduled days from now.”

  “Wait a minute, there’s two?” Jack questions. “Deuce was only able to find one.”

  “There’s one scheduled for Red Hook that’ll leave through the harbor and the other is an intermodal shipment, a road shipment headed to the Canadian border. Both are set to leave on the same exact day,” Needles reveals.

  There it is.

  The second shipment Rick was talking about.

  It all falls into place for me.

  “Rush is going to go to Yankovich,” I mutter, turning to Jack. “He’s going to ask him to get away with Skylar. They’re going to be on one of those shipments.”

  “We need to figure out what he’s exporting,” Riggs points out.

  “I don’t give a fuck what he’s exporting,” I fire back. “I’m over saving the world’s women from Yankovich. All I give a fuck about is making sure Skylar is safe,” I sneer.

  “Cobra, you need to pull it together, man,” Blackie advises. “If we don’t think this through, we can wind up causing more harm than good. You don’t want that for your girl. Now come on, get your head together. What the fuck is Yankovich going to do with a baby? She’s more of a nuisance than anything. He’s not going to move her with his shipment, he’s going to get rid of her. Like he led us to the docks to take out the men that violated Gina, he’s going to hand us Skylar. We just have to figure out how and where.”

  “Listen, whatever you guys need, we’re here. We’re not much, but we’re willing to help,” Bas offers.

  “I got a kid too,” Needles adds. “I’d be losing my fucking mind right now. You say the word and you got yourself a bunch of beat up bikers ready to fuck shit up.”

  “No kid deserves to pay for the sins of a devil,” Bas agrees.

  No they don’t.

  A child should never pay for anyone’s sins.

  Not the devil’s.

  Nor her father’s.

  -Forty-one-

  Celeste

  Forty-eight hours.

  My daughter has been missing for over forty-eight hours. We’ve surpassed those crucial hours and there is still no sign of her anywhere. I used to think God spared me. He took Alexandria and left me. Now I know it wasn’t God, it was Satan. I want to ask the devil to take me. I want to beg in the depths of Hell, barter my life for the sweet life of my daughter.

  Take me.

  Leave her.

  Please. Please. Please.

  I’ll do anything.

  I can wish until I’m dead but it won’t happen.

  I’ll never get the chance to go before the evil demon and plead my case.

  So I sit here in her room and do nothing. I don’t cry, there are no tears left to disperse. I don’t shout either. What’s the point, no one will hear me, just like they can’t hear her.

  Numbly, I watch the detectives go through her stuff. I know they’re grasping at straws but what can I do?

  Nothing.

  Not a damn thing.

  As parents, we take a silent vow to protect our children. We make it our purpose, our life’s mission. We swear on everything we believe in we’ll keep them safe. They’ll grow before our eyes, we’ll instill all our values into them and pray we have nurtured them and loved them enough to tackle the world. Then we’ll take a step back and watch them soar so when we lay our head down for our final rest we can say we fulfilled our promise. We gave it our all, and the world is a better place because of the life we brought into it.

  I gave the world beauty, but I won’t be able to watch it grow. I’m not going to get the chance to rest in peace knowing I gave my all to my daughter. I failed her.

  I couldn’t keep her safe.

  I brought her into this ugly world and I lost her to it.

  Defeated as a mother, as a human, I helplessly watch the detectives.

  They took her toothbrush earlier. Do you know why? Because they don’t believe they’ll find her. They’ll swipe her DNA from it so when they find her body they can identify her. That’s why they took her hairbrush too.

  There is no justice to be served.

  Not for Skylar.

  Just like there wasn’t any served for her aunt.

  The door opens to the bedroom and I lift my head expecting to find my mother, father or Gina. None of them have left my side since I returned from the ho
spital that wretched day.

  My eyes find Cobra standing in the doorway. He’s wearing the same grim expression he’s had every time I’ve seen him since we stood in front of the ice cream truck staring at Skylar’s discarded teddy bear.

  Trust him.

  It’s the last thing he said before he took off with his club, promising me he’d return with our daughter. Now he stands as defeated as I feel. As I scramble to my feet, my hope, trust and faith fade.

  “Why are you here?” I rasp.

  “What do you mean why am I here?” he asks hoarsely, stepping closer to me. I raise my hand and force him to stay put.

  “Don’t,” I order. “You said you’d bring her home.”

  “I will,” he insists. The power that once fueled those two words is no longer there. He’s giving up. He might not know it but I see it, it’s there in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t make it right and he’s just as useless to our daughter as law enforcement.

  “I found some stuff out,” he offers. “It’s not much, but it’s more than we knew before and a whole lot more than the cops have. The men who took her didn’t harm her. Someone saw her and she was okay. Did you hear me? Celeste? Someone saw her and they swore she was okay.”

  Shaking my head, the tears I thought had dried up begin to surface again and stain my cheeks. I think he expected his words to provide me with some sort of comfort, but all they do is sear me and leave deeper wounds.

  “I wish you never came back,” I shriek.

  They are words I never dreamed I’d ever say. For so long I prayed for him to return, wished for fate to throw us together one more time.

  “Before you came back into my life, I thought I was an awful mother,” I confess. “I thought I wasn’t enough, that she was lacking the normality others had by not having her father in her life. I tried to make up for her not having you, I tried to be both a mother and a father. I swore I’d do all the things a dad would do for his daughter. I’d protect her. I’d grill her dates. I’d even walk her down the aisle when the time came. I knew in the back of my mind no matter how hard I tried, it wouldn’t be enough. Then you came back. I thought it wasn’t fair to keep either of you from one another. I didn’t fail without you, Cobra, I failed the moment I told you she was yours. I failed as soon as I trusted her life in your hands,” I cry.

  Standing still, his eyes are blank as they stare at me. There is no rebuttal, no emotion. Just the cold stare of a man that agrees with the ugly truth he’s been handed.

  “The truth is she may have missed having a father, but she was better off,” I hiss angrily. I know he’s hurting and I should stop, but I can’t. I need to usher the blame onto someone. I need someone else to shoulder the grief and mourn my mistakes.

  “Say what you want, but don’t you dare talk like she ain’t coming back,” he seethes. Signs of life spark as his jaw clenches and he rolls his neck from side to side. “You’re entitled to feel every damn thing you’re feeling. Give it to me, Cel. If it makes you feel better, give it all to me. I can take it. What I can’t take…what I won’t take is you talking about her like she’s not alive and well as you wait for her failure of a father to bring her back to you.”

  “I didn’t,” I argue.

  “Didn’t you just say she was better off? Maybe she is better off without me, but at least I’m not giving up on her,” he sneers.

  I lose it.

  I fucking lose it.

  Lunging for him, I beat my fists against his chest as a scream vibrates from my throat.

  “I hate you,” I shout. “I’m not giving up on her. I’m giving up on you!”

  “Big mistake, baby,” he mutters. “Don’t count me out until my final breath is drawn.”

  “Right, and they have to catch you to kill you,” I retort, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Let’s just pray to God they don’t catch Skylar instead.”

  Tragedy changes people and each tragedy changes you more and more. The first time tragedy and I became one, I pushed forward. I made every day count so that I lived for the memory of my friend. This time I’m too beaten down to push forward. I’m too broken to get back on the horse and believe in something as simple as hope. This time, tragedy has left me hollow.

  Except that’s not true.

  There’s life inside of me.

  Another innocent child I’m responsible for.

  Another innocent child that will be born into a world of sin.

  Tragedy changes people.

  It turns lovers against one another.

  It makes everything you thought was beautiful, ugly.

  “Please leave,” I sob. “And please don’t come back unless you have my baby.”

  In another life, Cobra would have reached for me. He would have ignored the malicious words I spat at him, knowing every word I uttered was out of angst. He would have whispered all the reassuring things I needed to hear. In another life, I’d believe them too.

  I’d believe in him.

  In this life, he shoves his hands into his pockets and walks away without a word.

  In this life, we’re strangers pushed aside by the cold, cold world.

  COBRA

  Everything she said is true.

  I failed her.

  I failed Skylar.

  Bracing my hands on the counter I lift my head and stare through the dirt and grime covering the mirror, at my face…at the eyes I inherited from my old man.

  I remember looking into his eyes when I was a boy and thought he was a warrior. He was a true superhero. He was my dad, the man who showed me how to throw a football. My dad, the guy who taught me how to sprint down the field. My dad, the man I hoped to be when it was my turn to be a husband and a father.

  That was before Alexandria.

  After the tragedy I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but misery. He wasn’t my dad. He was a man trying to be a hero. A man who suffered failure after failure. He was desperate.

  Desperation never wears well on a man.

  It doesn’t wear well on me.

  Sound rattles from the other side of the bathroom door and jolts me back to the moment. I push off the small sink and open the door to step into Pipe’s garage. Spotting Jack and Blackie in the corner, I head straight for them.

  “Oh good, you’re here—”

  I cut him off, pull my gun from my shoulder holster and watch as their eyes drift toward my piece. Blackie reaches for his but Jack holds out his arm.

  “What’s going on, Cobra?” he asks, treading cautiously. Almost like I’m the crazy motherfucker and not him.

  “This is your fault,” I sneer, piercing my desperate eyes on him. “It’s just like Pipe said. You don’t give a fuck about any of us; all you care about is yours. I bet if it was your daughter or your newborn boy you’d be pulling out all the fucking stops. Your kid would already be returned safely to your wife’s arms.”

  “Just like Pipe said,” Jack repeats as he narrows his eyes. “What else did Pipe tell you about me?”

  “Stop avoiding the issue.”

  “You’re bouncing all over the place, boy. You want to remind me of the issue and why you got a gun pointed at me?” Jack sneers.

  “I thought I could trust you guys. I gave you my nomad patch and my word I’d do my share to pull this club out of the shit it was resting in when I parked my bike at your turf. You’re supposed to have my back. You’re supposed to have my daughter’s back. You were so hell bent on delivering your word to Stryker you forgot about me. For all I know you’re just as greedy as fucking Rush. None of you can be trusted.”

  “You’re making some pretty bold accusations, Cobra. You need to step the fuck back or this will get ugly.”

  “It already is!” My hand shakes as I aim the gun between the both of them. “Rick warned you he would trick us. He told you there would be two shipments. We know when and where those shipments will go down and you’re standing here like two fucking assholes instead of making a plan of attack.”
<
br />   “We’re working on it,” Blackie argues. “None of us want anything to happen to your daughter. We want to be sure.”

  “Fuck that, you want to intercept his shipment so the club can profit. You think it’ll get you out of the red, hoping there’s enough to cover the construction on the clubhouse and Linc’s medical bills.”

  “Dude, he’s snapped,” Riggs says from behind me.

  Keeping my gun aimed high, I spin around to lash into Riggs when Blackie grabs me from behind and puts me in a headlock. Jack strips me of my gun, throws on the safety and hands it to Riggs.

  “I’ve had about enough crazy to last me a fucking lifetime,” he shouts as I struggle to break out of Blackie’s grip. “Now shut the fuck up and listen to me. I think Rick is right. I think one shipment is a farce, something to distract us from what he’s really planning. However, Yankovich didn’t plan on your kid being a part of this mix. I don’t think he’s willing to fuck up whatever he’s moving through the harbor. We’re going to go with our gut and we’re going to intercept the road shipment.”

  “We’ll make the motherfucker think we’re taking the docks by wiring them with explosives. Riggs is already working on it,” Blackie says from behind me, tightening his grip.

  “That’s right, bro, I’m going to light that dock up like the fourth of fucking July.”

  “You’re wrong,” I hiss. “If he’s looking to get rid of Skylar like you said before then he’s going to bring her back to where it’s easier to drop her. He’s going to bring her closer to home which is the docks.”

  “No,” Jack insists. “That means Rush would be making his way to Brooklyn. We’d be able to tap him on our grid. Bas and Needles are working on a lead to where he might be. We need to be prepared because if we’re a minute late Yankovich is dragging your girl over the border and then there ain’t shit we can do once she’s in another fucking country.”

  Feeling Blackie’s grip loosen, I kick back and elbow him straight in the gut, knocking the wind out of his lungs.