by Brook Wilder
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Wrecked copyright @ 2018 by Brook Wilder and Scholae Palatina Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.
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BOOKS IN THE DEVIL’S HORSEMEN MC TRILOGY
WRECKED
SHATTERED
DEFILED
TABLE OF CONTENTS
WRECKED
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
EPILOGUE
PREVIEW – SHATTERED
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WRECKED
Chapter One
Sydney
I eased into the chair, my coffee cup in my hand. I had overdone it at the gym the night before, trying to push my leg presses to the max. This morning, I was feeling the effects of my overzealous workout, to the point where I’d had to roll out of my bed this morning.
“Overdo it last night?”
I looked over at one of the officers, Luke, who had apparently just watched me lower myself in the chair.
“Shove it, Luke. You only wish you could press what I was.”
Luke chuckled, holding up his hands.
“Whoa. Syd. Don’t take it personally. I was just wondering if you needed a massage later on, that’s all.”
I threw a pencil at him, a grin on my face. Luke was one of the officers that I actually liked here at Cibolo Police Department, and, while others would view his comment as sexist, I didn’t. Luke and I had already gone down that road, the handsome officer trying once or twice to get me to date him.
While Luke was gorgeous, I wasn’t interested. I wasn’t back in Cibolo to shack up with the first man I laid eyes on. I was here to focus on my police career and build a reputation here.
Better than my last reputation.
Heaving a sigh, I brought my cup to my lips, allowing the hot liquid to warm my insides. Most would say that I was crazy, coming back to my hometown, but the badge on my chest gave me the support I didn’t really need for people to take me seriously. All my life, I had been quiet and unassuming, not one to be noticed in a crowd, and spent the majority of my younger days in my room, with a book in my hand. I didn’t have many friends growing up, nor did I care to.
I had just wanted to survive.
And then… well, I had become notorious overnight.
“Warren! In my office!”
I shook out of my thoughts, nearly upending my coffee all over my uniform, as the chief’s voice cut through the air. I set the cup on my desk, wincing as I stood and walked to his office at the back of the department. Chief Turner was a heavyset man with a storied thirty-year career in law enforcement. When I had applied for this job, he had not wanted to hire me, stating that people who worked in their hometown tended to turn a blind eye on the happenings. I had promised him that I had no intentions of doing that. I would uphold the law in every aspect, doing my best to make Cibolo safe for the next generation.
Most of all, I had no intentions of giving anyone a break here. They hadn’t done it to me back then, and while I was not bitter about that any longer I knew that it was a dog-eat-dog world in the small Texan town.
Why would I treat them any different?
“You yelled chief?” I asked innocently, sitting on the worn leather chairs in the stifling office.
The air conditioning had been acting up again at the station, and no number of fans were going to blow out the warm, humid air. It was only eight in the morning, and I was already sweating under my bullet-proof vest.
“Funny, Warren,” Chief Turner said, narrowing his gaze at me. “I have a case for you.”
I sat up just bit straighter in my chair. A case? I had only been with the department for four months, not planning on getting anything but the beat trails for at least a year. While I longed to be a detective one day, I knew I would have to work my way up in this department to get that privilege.
Chief Turner drummed his fingers on the scarred wooden desk while I waited for him to say something, anything, knowing he was biding his time.
And making me go insane.
“I debated on giving this to you,” he finally said, leaning forward.
I could smell the pipe tobacco he liked to smoke, the heat starting to become stifling in the small office. I was going to need another shower before this day was over with.
“But this could be your big break,” he continued, pushing the file to me. “And I think you have it in you, Warren, to be me one day.”
“T-thank you sir,” I stammered, surprised.
“You’re welcome,” he said gruffly. “Don’t let me down Warren. Remember that oath you took.”
I nodded, my heart racing in my chest. This was my moment to shine for this station, to cement a new reputation in Cibolo. Eagerly I grabbed the file and opened it, only to find one sticky note.
The chief chuckled as I read the name on the sticky note.
Amy Travis.
Oh, I knew that name.
“You didn’t think it was gonna be that easy, did you Warren?”
I swallowed, shutting the file.
“I wouldn’t imagine it to be chief. What do you need me to do?”
If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.
“Ms. Travis is here right now. I have her in one of the interrogation rooms. She’s looking for her missing sister. I need for you to find her.”
I nodded tightly, standing. He was testing me. Well, I was going to show him that I was smarter than he thought I was. I was going to solve this missing person case faster than any other man in this department and prove to him that I could be chief one day.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Good luck,” he said, dismissing me.
I walked out of the office and toward the interrogation rooms, clutching the folder in my hands. Amy Travis was the oldest child of Grant Travis, a well-known leader of one of the many bike gangs that were in and around Cibolo. The Devil’s Horsemen MC was a prominent gang in our area, fierce but not as deep into illegal dealings as many of them were.
I hated them all.
Straightening my shoulders, I kept on toward the room. It didn’t matter. Every citizen of Cibolo, no matter how corrupt, deserved our full attention, and I couldn’t hold it against them. I had
grown up in a far different manner, in a loving household that sheltered me as much as it could from the horrors of reality.
But now, I knew all too well what the world brought and how it could shatter someone in an instant.
“You can do this,” I whispered to myself as I reached for the knob to the room.
I had overcome so much to get here, and I wasn’t about to allow this stop me. Pushing open the door, I looked at Amy Travis. She was older now, her long hair draped over her shoulder and hiding the tattoo that covered one shoulder, the end barely sticking out under the curls. She was dressed in a tank top and ripped jeans; her feet clad in boots that were stretched out in front of her in a relaxed pose.
But it was her eyes that were wary, moving over me as I walked in the room and shut the door. There were layers of hardness to her, some I knew she had built around her to protect herself from her father’s choice of profession.
“Ms. Travis, I’m...”
She cut me off with the wave of her manicured hand.
“I know who you are, Sydney. You look well.”
So, that was how it was going to be.
“So do you Amy,” I said, pulling out the chair across from the table and seating myself. “How is the family?”
“Dad is good,” she said with a sigh. “But Hayley is the reason I called Chief Turner.”
Hayley was Amy’s younger sister, a hellion even when I was here six years ago. She thrived in the limelight of who her father was and didn’t mind using that name to get her what she wanted.
“Hayley’s missing,” I said flatly, putting two and two together.
Amy nodded, losing some of her bravado. I could see the underlying worry in her eyes now, the lines of exhaustion on her face. Despite what Amy’s family stood for, I sympathized with her. To have a family member missing had to be devastating and, knowing what the Travis family dealt with, had to be even more of a concern. One of the other gangs could be using her as leverage, which didn’t bode well for Hayley’s sake.
There were things I had seen of what could happen when a family member got caught up in this gang war, and it wasn’t pretty.
I pulled out the pad that was tucked in my shirt pocket, finding my pen.
“Tell me what happened.”
Amy blew out a breath.
“You know Hayley. She’s always running her mouth, boasting about who she is and what her father can do. I’ve told her to shut her trap more than once, that someone was going to use it against us one day, but would she listen? No of course not. She likes the attention she gets, and now it could be her downfall. Stupid, stupid girl.”
I listened to Amy, catching the undertones of sadness in her voice. She was truly worried about her sister.
“Has anyone contacted you or your father?”
She shook her head, looking down at her nails, which were painted fiery red to match her lipstick.
“No. The last person to see her was her friends when they were at the mall two days ago. They said she got in her car and drove off. S-she never made it home.”
I jotted down the specifics, though my stomach twisted at that thought of what the young girl could be going through.
If she was even still alive.
“Who do you think took her?” I asked softly as Amy sniffed away the tears in her eyes.
Amy laughed hollowly.
“You tell me, Sydney. Anyone could want to make a name for themselves by snatching Grant Travis’s daughter. The cartel, the brotherhood, the brigade; they all have it out for our family, wanting to be on top of this area.”
I shifted in my seat, knowing that unfortunately she was right. We had a number of lethal gangs in the area, some that made my skin crawl to think about. There seemed to always be a turf war going on, over who could make the most waves in the communities without getting caught, and I wasn’t about to remind Amy that her father was one of them. While they weren’t into some of the heavier stuff, such as sex trafficking, they were still no angels.
But that still didn’t allow me to be their executioner. I had a missing girl who should be home with her family, and I would do everything in my power to find her.
Dead or alive.
“I’m sorry,” Amy said quietly after a moment. “I’m not giving you much to go on.”
“It’s okay,” I offered with a small smile. “I’ve had worse to go on, honestly. I will do my best to find Hayley, I promise.”
“Thank you,” she said, her expression softening. “Listen, I know we haven’t ever been friends, but I do appreciate you looking into this. Chief Turner said you were one of the best here, and I… well, I want to find my sister.”
“I know,” I answered, feeling some of the pride well up in my chest. “I will do everything I can Amy.”
She nodded and slid a card across the table.
“Here’s my cell. Please don’t put it anywhere on your paperwork. I’d like to keep that part as private as possible, along with this case. If word gets out that Hayley is truly missing, it could mean bad times for us, Sydney. I can’t allow that to happen.”
I tucked it into my pocket for later, knowing what she meant.
“You won’t have to worry about it.”
“Good,” she said, standing.
I watched as she looked at her expression in the two-way mirror, wiping away the rest of the vulnerability she had just shown.
“Oh, one more thing.”
I stood.
“What’s that?”
She turned, a grin on her red lips.
“I know what happened to you all those years ago, and I promise I don’t care. I just want to find my sister.”
A shock vibrated through me, but I refused to show any weakness.
“Well, I’m glad that you are still interested in old news.”
Amy placed her hand on her hip, regarding me with an interested look.
“You hide it well, Sydney. Don’t let them get to you again. It’s not worth it.”
“I’ll call you with any updates,” I said instead, opening the door.
I didn’t want to talk about my former misgivings. That was none of her business, and I had moved past it.
After all, I had come back to Cibolo to face my demons. Not many people could say the same.
“Thanks,” she said, moving past me.
I waited until she was down the hall before I released a pent-up breath, the room still filled with her expensive perfume. She thought what everyone else did about me. It was fine. I couldn’t ignore the fact that it had happened, nor could I run from it.
Walking out of the room, I forced myself to turn toward the task at hand. Finding Hayley Travis. Amy had a right to be scared about her sister’s wellbeing. My gut reaction was that she had been taken by a rival gang; which one, I didn’t know.
If that was the case, they would use and abuse her to prove a point, driving her father mad with the knowledge that his baby girl was being tortured for her secrets in some of the worst ways imaginable.
It had to be a parent’s worst nightmare, no matter how bad the parent was.
Tapping the folder on my hand, I walked back to my desk. I would start putting out feelers to my contacts, see if anyone had heard anyone bragging about kidnapping Hayley. At some point, they would show their face, a slip up that would implicate them in the kidnapping, and I hoped I would be there to arrest them and bring Hayley home.
One way or another.
Chapter Two
Zack
I sat in the comfort of the office, my knee shaking anxiously. I didn’t like being in there, especially when I had no fucking idea why I was in there to begin with. The summons this morning had come out of the blue, a text message that had gotten me out of bed and dressing as quickly as I could. When one was summoned by Grant Travis, you didn’t make him wait a minute longer than you had to.
But I had been waiting now for an hour, attempting not to show my irritation at the fact. One of Grant’s right hands stood n
ot too far away, making sure that I wasn’t going to do anything other than sit there, which was also making me uncomfortable.
As if I would steal anything in this office, from the hand that had fed me all those years.
Wiping my palms on my jeans, I sat back in the chair, wondering how much longer this was going to take. I had been part of the Devil’s Horsemen MC all of my adult life. At eighteen, I was a rogue kid, with a rap sheet to match. Petty theft, burglary, disturbing the peace, and even one indecent exposure, was all part of my colorful teenage years, and there weren’t many who thought I would even make it out of them.
