Savior: Silent Phoenix MC Series: Book Five

by Myers, Shannon

  I’d heard it time and time again, but that wasn’t who she was. Kate and I were adults now. We deserved to know the truth, about all of it.

  “Dakota?” Little Ricky asked, and I came back to the present.

  I’d gotten lost in thoughts of my mother while staring at the pictures lining the hallway off the living room. There was one of Little Ricky as a teen that caught my eye, and I moved closer.

  “Your hair was so long.” I grinned. “And this sweater? Were you supposed to dress up as someone from the past?”

  “That’s not Rick, Dakota. That’s Bear when he was a kid.”

  “You and your dad could’ve been twins—”

  “He’s not my real dad, Caparina. We’ve been over this,” Little Ricky snapped. “Now, are we gonna get shit done or sit around doin’ nothin’?”

  I waved a hand in his direction, still focused on the picture. “Fine, fine. We can go.”

  When the idea struck, I cradled my belly and turned to Molly with an apologetic smile.

  Kate once told me that normal people had a tendency to look directly to the right when they were about to lie. I made sure to keep my eyes on hers as I hitched my purse up onto my shoulder and asked, “Is there a bathroom I could use before we go? I know for a fact that the minute we get in the car, this baby is gonna start tap-dancing on my bladder.”

  I fell silent, knowing if I said anything more, it’d seem like I was rambling. Like I was guilty of something.

  “Sure. Just down the hall, it’s the last door on the right.”

  I closed the door and turned the lock before releasing the breath I’d been holding. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, leaving me feeling like a spy who’d had too much caffeine.

  A cursory glance along the bathroom counter revealed nothing useful. I turned the faucet on high before easing open the door of the medicine cabinet. There was a comb with a few short strands of salt and pepper hair caught in between the teeth. Next to it, were two toothbrushes, nestled side by side in a yellow ceramic holder.

  I placed my thumb and forefinger around the handle of one and lifted to find that it was hot pink.

  That had to be Molly’s.

  The next one was royal blue. I laid it on the counter before searching for a bag. After placing the lid on the toilet seat down, I sat and began rummaging through my purse. There was a plastic bag filled with the cookies I’d packed, and another filled with orange slices.

  Not willing to part with the baby’s snacks, I rifled through the cabinet under the sink until I found what I needed. I tore the end off the wrapper, letting the tampon drop onto my lap before carefully placing the toothbrush inside the plastic sleeve.

  “Caparina!” Little Ricky yelled from the living room. “Sometime today would be nice.”

  I hurriedly tucked the wrapped toothbrush into the side pocket of my purse before reaching for a washcloth to wrap the comb in.

  We were going to find out why Kate had run away, convince Jeremy to pull surveillance from the hospital, swing by Angel’s house and get the full story on what had happened to my mother, and then I’d have Zane run a simple paternity test on Bear.

  Maybe if there was enough time, I’d even be able to sneak in a nap.

  I exited the bathroom, lingering for a few extra seconds in the hallway to regain my composure and stop the trembling in my hands. A black leather vest lying on the white comforter of Molly and Bear’s king-sized bed caught my attention.

  My dad had been wearing one just like it the night he saved my life. I let my hands run over the worn leather before pausing to take a closer look.

  It couldn’t be.

  President, the patch proudly declared. Underneath were four letters that would change the entire course of my search for the truth.

  Grey.

  Bear had my father’s vest.

  He was the traitor.

  Chapter Eleven

  Celia

  The porch swing creaked as I settled against it, leaving me with a strong sense of nostalgia. I’d long considered the old farmhouse my safe haven. For twelve years, it had been the place I could go to escape the world.

  It wasn’t until Jamie went missing that I realized it was never the house. My safe place had been him.

  Always.

  A motorcycle slowly rumbled up the driveway, the headlight hitting my face like a spotlight. I squinted against the brightness before wrapping my fingers around the handle of the gun beside me, keeping it out of sight.

  I refused to run and hide from anyone.

  The lone rider climbed off the bike and removed his helmet, making no attempt to reach for the weapon on his hip.

  “A man walks into a bar and sees his friend sittin’ next to a twelve-inch pianist,” he called up to me before stepping into the light from the porch.

  Comedian.

  I exhaled a shaky laugh and moved my finger off the trigger before flipping the safety on again. “You came all this way to tell me a joke?”

  He shrugged. “It’s my night to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t do anything crazy.”

  “Like what?” I asked. “Go after the men who shot my husband and took my parents?”

  “Somethin’ like that. Bear’s just tryin’ to keep you safe.”

  No, since he’d discovered that I’d reneged on my promise to stay out of their way, Bear was hellbent on keeping me a prisoner in my own home.

  Initially, I’d stood in my parent’s empty kitchen, staring at the bloodstain on the cabinets until the shock gave way to simmering rage.

  I’d driven home on auto-pilot, turning Lauren’s warning over and over in my mind. We were all fish in a barrel, just waiting to be picked off on a whim of a group of psychopaths.

  Angel had found me in the closet, emptying the contents of Jamie’s gun safe into a duffel bag. Unfortunately, he hadn’t seen the logic in ending them before they ended me, and had alerted the club.

  SPMC raided my house, confiscating my weapons as if I were a criminal before leaving a biker behind to ‘watch over’ me. Yesterday it had been Crossbones, today it was Comedian.

  I adjusted my long skirt until the pistol disappeared from view. The club hadn’t gotten everything. And, if the only way to recoup my firearms was by smuggling them back in under my dresses, I’d do it.

  I just had to figure out how to lose my guards first.

  Comedian paced along the porch, walking the same path that Jamie had when he was working through a problem in his head. It wasn’t right, men who weren’t him coming in and taking over.

  “Are you going to tell me your damn joke or not?” I snapped, stopping him in his tracks.

  He grinned before hopping up onto the railing across from me. “Right, so this guy walks into a bar and sees his friend sittin’ next to a twelve-inch pianist. And he says to his friend, ‘Hey, that’s amazing. How’d you get one of those?’ The friend pulls out a bottle and tells him to rub it. The guy does, and a genie appears in a puff of smoke, tellin’ him he can have one wish.

  “The man thinks it over and says, ‘I wish I had a million bucks.’ The genie says, ‘Go outside, and your wish will be granted.’ Guy runs outside, but all he sees is a sky full of ducks. He runs back into the bar and tells his friend what happened, and the friend sadly looks down at his beer before sayin’, ‘I know. You really think I wanted a twelve-inch pianist?’”

  I mashed my lips together, fighting a smile. “That’s terrible! Now, you want to tell me the one where the club finds my husband and parents?”

  The grin on his face faltered. “You know I can’t, doll. We don’t discuss anything that goes on in church. In fact, it’s best just to let the club—”

  “It’s best to let the club do what? Sit on their asses while my husband is lost out there? Continue to operate as if everything’s normal? What is it Bear wants me to believe the club is doing to fix things?” My teeth ground together painfully, my breath coming out in short, panicked bursts.

  His boot came
up to rest against the railing. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the inside of his vest, offering me one. I shook my head. “Bear thinks Grey might’ve had somethin’ to do with your parents disappearing. Money was there—”

  I ran a shaking hand over my face, feeling the vein throbbing in my temple. My blood pressure had to be dangerously close to stroke levels by now.

  “Is he really that stupid?” I growled. “The money was a ruse, Michael, a way of getting me over to their house! Even the texts from my father’s number were bogus. Why do I feel like I’m the one under investigation here? And for the love of all the saints, why am I the only one who seems to give a damn where my husband is?”

  “Hey.” He jumped down and came over to me. “Hey. I don’t for one second believe that Grey left you willingly.”

  “You don’t? And here I assumed that Bear had everybody in the club drinking the same Kool-Aid.”

  “I saw how he was after you got… hurt. He could’ve stayed at home with you and the girls, but he refused, said he’d go home when he’d found the men responsible.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked.

  Comedian ran his thumbnail along the edge of his jaw. “I’m sayin’ that if he ain’t dead, then there’s a damn good reason he’s layin’ low. Now, between you and me, I got more than a few issues with the way Bear’s runnin’ shit. His focus is on widening our territory instead of on findin’ your old man.”

  I knew it.

  I’d known that Molly’s reassurances were nothing more than ridiculous platitudes. The club wasn’t going to find Jamie. They’d already moved on.

  “Someone within that club was giving up information, Comedian. Someone wanted him dead. I need to know who that was… they can’t get away with it.”

  “Trust me, Celia,” he said. “I ain’t gonna rest until I figure out what happened that night, even if I have to face every single one of those motherfuckers myself.”

  I wanted to say more, to inform him of our plans to stop the Sons, but I heard Jamie’s voice as clear as day in my head, reciting a passage from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War as if it were gospel.

  Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.

  Comedian served his patch above all else. He might’ve had his doubts and suspicions over what had happened to Jamie, but ultimately, his loyalty was with the club. If he knew what we were planning, he’d be obligated to inform the club. And, with as much trouble as I’d already given Bear, the biker would probably chain me up and leave me in their storage facility.

  Imagine you’re me. Where would you put him?

  The storage facility.

  “Celia?” Comedian waved a hand in front of my face. “You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  I nodded. “I’m just tired. I think I’m just going to try to get some sleep. I’m assuming you’re staying all night?”

  He nodded and reached for my hand. “You sure you’re alright? You seem, I dunno, jumpy or some shit. Did I say the wrong thing? I just don’t want you thinkin’ that no one gives a fuck, okay? Grey was like a brother to me. Even if Bear don’t give a fuck what happened, I do.”

  I was wound up.

  The entire time I’d been going about it the wrong way. I’d been looking for my husband the way any law-abiding citizen would. I’d relied heavily on the authorities, convinced that they were making my case a top priority.

  Instead, I needed to be thinking like Jamie.

  I squeezed Comedian’s hand in mine while wrapping the gun up in my skirt with the other, keeping it safely hidden as I stood up. “Do you need anything before I go in?”

  “Nah.” He held up the pack of cigarettes. “I got everything I need. You get some rest, Celia. Things’ll be better tomorrow.”

  They most certainly would.

  “Thank you for watching over me… for believing in Jamie.” I sighed. “All of it.”

  He lowered his head with a nod. “Sweet dreams, Celia.”

  I closed the heavy wooden door behind me and locked it before softly calling out, “It’s just me.”

  The bedroom door opened, and Kate crept down the hall slowly, hands wrapped around the base of a curling iron. “You’re sure it’s safe?” She whispered.

  I nodded and pointed to her weapon. “Katydid, what are you planning on doing with that?”

  “You know, if they got close, I’d just… I’d just hit them on the head.” She swallowed nervously. “Does anyone know I’m here?”

  “No, and they won’t.”

  Kate lowered the curling iron and padded lightly across the hardwood toward the kitchen. “Who was it?”

  “Comedian.” At the mention of his name, she shuddered. “What? What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “It’s just… it’s stupid, really. In the cemetery, Mike was convinced that Comedian was behind it all, and his argument made sense. Now, I feel like everyone’s changed their minds, but I don’t understand how.”

  “Simple. There was no evidence to back up his claims. Comedian was with other members of the club when your father was shot, and right now, it seems that he’s our only ally within the club. Bear seems to think your father was behind your grandparent’s disappearance.”

  I was giving her the watered-down version of the club’s actions and didn’t know why. Bear didn’t deserve my loyalty after the things he’d accused Jamie of doing. Maybe I was just exhausted at the idea of having to rehash every twisted theory that the club had come up with.

  Kate didn’t need to know everything her father stood accused of. She was going through her own battles; I’d known it since the night she’d shown up on my doorstep, completely out of sorts. Until she decided to open up to me, I could only speculate as to what had happened.

  Instead of immediately disagreeing with the idea that her father could’ve kidnapped anyone, she nodded to herself before climbing up onto one of the barstools. “Mom, it makes sense. You have to see that. When Nan and Pops showed up at Dakota’s wedding, I could’ve sworn he was going to kill them. Think about it. We’ve all remained perfectly safe, but two of my father’s enemies suddenly disappear? It’s telling.”

  I tucked my lower lip between my teeth, holding back my words for a moment. How was I supposed to convince the girl who’d grown up without her father that he wouldn’t have left us voluntarily?

  Not again.

  “What do you think?” she asked, crossing one leg over the other.

  “I think I want you to tell me why you’re really here. What are you running from, baby girl?”

  She slipped off the stool and moved around the island, avoiding my gaze. “I’m going to make some tea. Do you want some?”

  “Kate,” I tried again. “What happened? One minute, your marriage is fine, and the next, you’re crying at my front door. I thought you and Nate were happy.”

  She filled the kettle and placed it on the stove before answering. “You have enough going on without me piling—”

  I shook my head. “Stop. You could’ve gone anywhere, but you came here. Why?”

  “Because…” The first tear fell, and she brushed at it angrily, keeping her eyes on the counter. “Because I found out it was all a façade. For months, I’ve felt this disconnect between us—like, we were living together, but we weren’t together, you know? It’s as if we’ve been operating on two separate planes since Dakota’s wedding.”

  “Every marriage goes through—”

  “Don’t say it, Mom,” she warned. “Don’t tell me that every marriage goes through rough times. I know that. I see it on a daily basis. This was different. We’d just reconnected and then it was like Nate was keeping something from me. He’d been adamant that I stay away from the club and… and my family.”

  For months, I’d been laboring under the delusion that she was grieving and confused, the same as all of us. Suddenly, any goodwill I held toward Nate evaporated at the realization that he’d been the one responsible for
all of it.

  He didn’t know her, not like Dakota and I did. He didn’t know about the panic attacks or the night terrors. By forcing her to bottle up her emotions, he’d only made a terrible situation worse.

  “I’m sorry,” Kate said through another sob. “I thought he was doing it to keep me safe, but I got this email.” She pulled her phone from her pocket and stabbed at the screen several times before sliding it over to me.

  I watched in confusion as Nate conversed with a man in a hooded jacket before leading him toward the doors. “I’m not sure what this is supposed to prove,” I admitted. “It looks like he’s giving someone directions.”

  “Don’t you see?” she asked, just as the kettle began to whistle. “That’s Dad. Nate was helping him escape the hospital. It’s why the club’s theory makes sense. They must’ve known what happened, and that’s why they’re convinced that Dad was the one behind Nan and Pop’s disappearance.”

  I dragged my finger to the left, restarting the video from the beginning. The man was tall, that much was obvious, but it wasn’t Jamie.

  I didn’t know how I knew, but I did.

  “Wait,” I exclaimed. “When did you get this email? Was Nate home when it came through?”

  Kate stayed silent, turning in a slow circle around the kitchen. Realizing what it was she was looking for, I directed her to the cabinet that contained the mugs before pointing to the ceramic canister of tea bags near the stovetop.

  She added one to her mug with a nod. “Yeah, the first one was sent maybe thirty minutes after he got home.”

  “The first one?” I asked, scrolling up to check the timestamps. “They kept sending the same email… why?”

  “Maybe to ensure I got it? I don’t know. Do you want a cup?” She held up the kettle, and I nodded. “Why is it important?”

  Think like Jamie.

  What had he said about the Sons? Something about them being masters at moving people where they wanted them. What if they hadn’t gone dark, like everyone wanted to believe, but were still subtly moving us all into position?