by Sam Crescent
A part of him knew Reaper wouldn’t kill her, at least not intentionally. Not out of any obligation to keep her alive. With Robin dead, it stopped the pain. Whereas with Robin alive, he knew she was being hurt. Reaper was all about hurting him, fucking with him. Instead of coming to him, Reaper was a fucking coward and instead took a woman.
He didn’t want to think about the life Robin had lived for the last two years. She’d always been a sweet girl and then turned into a beautiful flower, the love of his fucking life. He’d never seen it coming, never seen her.
He came to a stop near a parked police car. The lights on top of the vehicle weren’t on. No flashing lights. No sign to show who it was.
He slowed down. Parking in front of the car and turning off his ignition, he looked toward the man.
A flaming light and the scent in the air gave away his smoking.
“Smokin’ will kill ya, you know?” He got off his bike, heading toward the man perched on the front of his car.
“Yeah, and so will an angry woman with a knife. I don’t want to meet either and seeing as my woman doesn’t like me to smoke, I’ve got to get my kicks somehow,” Billy said.
Billy had taken over from that fucker O’Klaren. From what Preacher had been told, O’Klaren’s disappearance had been accepted by all. With his wife’s admission of his abuse and years of deceit, the cops who worked closely with him just wanted to put a bad case to rest and accepted everything they were told. After Dog released the information from the cell phone, along with the witness accounts, trying to make a huge case out of a crooked cop wasn’t on a high list of priorities. Preacher had no doubt there would be some cop who would look into O’Klaren’s disappearance. They’d never find a body though, and if they tried to take him down again, he’d be ready for them. Until then, he was clear to do his shit. Only now, he was more cautious than ever before. He wasn’t willing to take too many risks, not with his freedom. Not with Robin being out there somewhere. Cops had always been on his back, but like he and Billy, they had an understanding. He wouldn’t allow them to get too close.
“You and the wife having trouble?”
“When are we not having trouble? She doesn’t like how much more time my job takes now. She likes to complain she never sees me, but for the pay raise, she loves me even more.” Billy shook his head. “At least the kids are doing okay.”
Billy had a wife and two kids, and one of them had been very sick, which was one of the many reasons why Billy took his money and helped him out. This man saw the bigger picture and even though he killed people, he never went after innocents.
Like Bishop’s mother, she’d never been an innocent.
“How was your last lead?” Billy asked.
“I’m here talking to you rather than dealing with and killing the man who took her. What do you think?”
“Maybe you shouldn’t tell me what you’re going to do with the man who took Robin. I’m still a cop, after all.”
“You’re chief now. Don’t forget that,” Preacher said.
“Yeah, no one else would take the job and seeing as I was the longest serving man still on the force, well, I got the job. Let’s face it, you do most of the work for me.”
“So why aren’t you at home with your wife?”
“I’m trying to help.” Billy reached into his jacket and took out a small file. “It’s not much, but the picture looked like Robin.”
Preacher took the file. He held his cell phone above it, flicking it on to use the light. Inside was a single piece of paper and one picture.
Robin was there. Her long brown hair had been hacked off and it looked like it had been dyed red. In another picture a few months ago, it had been red.
All of her hair was gone.
He’d loved it spread out across his pillow. Of course, he didn’t get many opportunities to admire it like that.
“When was this?”
“Camera’s date is three days ago. I know it’s not much and they’re probably long gone by now. He’s still bouncing from hotel to hotel. He’s in the country but hours away.”
“How much do I owe you?”
“Consider it free of charge.”
“Why would you do this?” Preacher asked. He never got anything free. He was the kind of guy who had to fight or pay his way to get shit.
“Robin wasn’t a bad kid. I met her a few times and whatever she’s going through, she doesn’t deserve it. I don’t like to think of her hurting and if I can do anything to help, even if it is something so small. I’m willing to do it.”
“Without anything in return?”
“Preach, you pay me plenty. This doesn’t change our other arrangements at all. It’s the least I could do and I would hope that if it was my girl, someone would be there for her, offering me help like this.”
Preacher closed the file and nodded. “Thanks.”
“I should be getting back and you need to go home. I can smell the alcohol on your breath and you don’t want to end up with your ass thrown in jail.”
He laughed but nodded. He waited for Billy to leave before looking back in the file. This was one of the leads he’d already followed but he appreciated Billy trying. The closest person he’d ever had to a friend was Bear, but he was starting to believe there were others lurking around. He just needed to be a bit more open to accepting friendships, even if it did come from cops.
He straddled his machine, turning over the ignition once again, and this time headed straight for home. He didn’t make any stops and kept well within the speed limit. The moment he got home, his floodlights kicked in. He parked his bike and went into his empty house, flicking the locks and heading down to his basement. His home was one of the hardest places to be in right about now. Without Robin around, all he had were memories.
Gripping the cord, he pulled, turning the light on. Inside were all the pictures, maps, and files of a man obsessed with finding the woman he loved. Every single dead end and false lead. Even some that weren’t.
They were all laid out on the wall. Removing the file from inside his jacket, he grabbed a pin, and putting it through the single picture with the notes Billy had attached, he found the right spot for it on the wall and pressed it in.
Stepping back, he looked. Each image was like a separate clue.
In the beginning, the fire burning in Robin’s eyes was clear to see. Even in the blurred pictures and the video footage, which he had a great deal of. With each passing day, week, month, and year, the fire had died a slow and painful death.
It was how he knew she was still alive but her fight had gone. Something had happened to her, and she’d given up, but she wasn’t dead. In some of the pictures, he saw the bruises on her face. Again, in one of the video footages, he saw the marks on her arms and legs. Reaper didn’t exactly make her cover up or hide his destruction of her. The son of a bitch was taunting him and Preacher knew he couldn’t react. He had to bide his time. As the months passed, the bruises no longer appeared, though. It was like she was untouched by Reaper, but something had to have happened for the fire to go.
There had to be bruises, just ones he hadn’t seen.
He should’ve found him by now. Reaper wasn’t a strong man. He was a fucking loser, but over the years, he’d perfected the art of falling off the map, of disappearing, which was why it was so difficult to find her.
Taking a seat, he gripped the stress ball he’d picked up and hoped it would help him to think. To clear his head of all the troubling thoughts consuming him. There was no time for him to give up or give in.
Squeezing the ball, he looked at the latest picture. She’d lost a lot of weight. Her face looked gaunt. The way her head was tilted, he saw the marks on her neck. The kind that came from a man hurting her. Wrapping their fingers around her neck and squeezing.
He was going to get her back. There was no doubt in his mind he’d finally have her in his arms once again.
The only problem he saw was the mess she’d be in when he did f
inally get her back. Robin’s body could very well be alive, but her soul, her heart, her mind, could already be lost to him forever.
Chapter Two
Three days later
The fight was brutal, bloody. Probably one of the worst fights Preacher had ever witnessed and considering how many he’d viewed and been a part of, that said a great deal. Two men, both of them naked.
One of them even had a rock-hard cock, but the wealthy female clients loved the show. A woman’s penchant for death and blood had stopped surprising him long ago. He had no doubt some women hated blood, hated the violence. But others, they loved to see the raw animal instinct come forward.
A brutal sport of the best man winning.
The fight to the death never failed to lure people in and even though he’d been doing this for nearly twenty years now, the volunteers were endless. There was never a shortage of people willing to die all in the chance of winning. The money was always the one motivator. Their chances could be slim but to many, but they didn’t care. The money was a lifeline for them.
Another punch that resulted in a tooth being spat into the crowd. The ones closest to the fight got splattered. There wasn’t any anger, though. No, the crowd lapped it up. Loving the proof of what they were witnessing. Another spectator slipped on the slick floor.
“You’d think people would get tired of the same old shit,” Dog said, coming toward him.
“You’re on the wrong side. You’re supposed to be supporting your guy over there,” Preacher said, pointing toward the railing on the opposite side.
The warehouse was secure. The building was structurally sound and the cops who patrolled the area within the city had been paid a great deal to keep the law off their backs and of course to turn the other way.
“We both know my guy is a goner. I’m surprised he’s lasted this long. Too bad. He came into my territory claiming to be one experienced fighter.”
“He is, if he’s beating up high school geeks,” Preacher said.
The sound of a crack, deathly silence, and the fight was over.
Preacher stayed where he was while money and the body were being dealt with. Within two hours, he and Dog still stood together, alone.
Their men were waiting for them. Their cuts sat in neat envelopes on the table below. If anyone even dared to touch the money, they’d be shot on sight.
There was a time when Preacher got a thrill out of tempting people to steal from him. He’d hunt them down and take care of them swiftly. It had been a game to him, one he used to relish. Now, it bored him. His life, it meant nothing, and he knew why.
Robin.
“I heard about the dead end,” Dog said.
Preacher kept silent.
He and Dog weren’t the kind of people to talk about their feelings.
He’d asked Dog for some favors and paid him handsomely for it. It was why his envelope was a lot bigger.
The club hadn’t liked his negotiation with Dog. They didn’t feel their cut should have to suffer. Preacher had told any man who didn’t like the way he ran the club could come at him, fight him for the crown, but so far, no one had come forward. They had left the running of the club to him, and well, he didn’t see a reason to change his methods. They were all earning money through other means, and it was by far more than what they got through the brutal war of fighting to the death.
“Is there a reason you want to sit around and chat?” Preacher asked.
“Not a lot sitting going on.”
“I find this all very touching, but I need to head back to the clubhouse.”
“I’ve been hearing rumors,” Dog said.
This made Preacher stop. He turned to Dog. The man was just as deadly, just as fierce since the first day he met him.
“Is this where you want me to offer up more of my cut? Maybe take the drug money from me? You think I’m going to offer you shit for the chance of some gossip?”
“You know I’m not the one who took her and I’ve been helping you when I can. It’s not about the money. I can’t believe I’m fucking saying this, but maybe after all this time, I see you as something a little more than an ally or my fucking enemy I’m in bed with.”
“You want to be my friend?”
“Stop being a dick. We are friends. The only person who doesn’t see that shit is you.”
“Yeah, because friends shoot each other.”
Last year, he’d been pissed off at a lead from Dog that had gone stale. The man had held on to it too long and rather than think of a strategy, he’d marched into Dog’s territory with the intention of killing the man, only to get shot in the leg for his trouble. Dog had taken his gun.
“You and I both know you deserved that kind of treatment. We’re friends, but I’m not going to let you take the piss. I gave you what you wanted. If it had been anyone else, their head would have been mounted on my wall.”
“After you sat on that information for over a week. I could have gotten her if you’d given it to me.”
“He had his entire club with him. They were armed, and believe me, this battle you’ve got with Reaper, I want you to win but not at the sacrifice of your life.”
“Aw, are you going to tell me you love me, Dog? You want to be my little pet?”
Dog laughed. “I forgot how much of an asshole you can be. You already figured out that any ambush you make on the whole club would kill the woman you want. Her death would be on your conscience, and yeah, I’ve got a pretty sweet deal. I can handle anything thrown my way. I have done it for fucking years, but I don’t want to have to deal with another MC president who thinks he pisses rainbows. I don’t have time for that shit. We work together and we hate each other. It’s how this shit works. Regardless of what you think, we’re in this together. Since the moment you took the clubhouse in the abandoned garage, you’ve been setting down roots. Your club comes and goes, but it’s like life. They’re still bound to the club because once you make a vow, it’s death that takes it from you.”
Preacher sighed. “What do you want?”
“I don’t want anything. Actually, that’s a lie. When you get your girl back, I want to meet her.”
“You’re not going to tell me to stop looking for her?”
“Why the fuck would I tell you to stop?”
“Let’s just say the advice I’ve been getting, they pretty much tell me to give up.”
“Clearly you’ve been getting really shitty advice. I’m not going to tell you to give up. Fuck that. Giving up is for losers and you’re not a loser. You’ll find your girl because she’s still alive.”
“She is?” This was the first piece of good news he’d heard in a couple of weeks.
“Rumor has it the president of a moving MC has attached himself to a woman. She’s got the highest protection but it doesn’t stop her from running.”
“Wait, how the fuck do you know this?” Preacher’s heart started to pound.
“Like I said, these are rumors that come down the club. One of my guys heard it around a campfire three days ago. When he realized you were looking for your girl and I’d been following my own leads, he gave me the information. There’s never a guarantee of where they are. They stay in one place for a couple of days, no longer than five, and move on. It might be worth following the news and getting your cop to check leads on dead women.”
“Why dead women?”
“They take random women either from the street or kidnap the pretty ones, keep them during their stay, rape them, and discard them. There should be a trail of bodies. I don’t know if it will help if there’s some kind of path, pattern, or method, but it could lead you right to your girl.”
Preacher ran a hand down his face. “Thank you.”
“Any time and don’t forget my invitation when you do find her.”
“I won’t. Why do you want to have dinner with others?” Preacher couldn’t think of a single reason as to why Dog would even want to spend any extra time with him. They weren’t close and neith
er of them shared any part of their lives apart from the fighting.
“I want to see what it is that made you become this obsessed prick. You got shot in the leg. I’ve never been able to put a bullet in your body before she was taken. I’ve seen what a crazy dick you’ve turned into. Call me intrigued by the woman who tamed the beast.”
Preacher took off, heading down to grab his cut.
As he got to the table, he looked at Dog. “She keeps trying to escape?”
“So I’ve been told. Again, this is all rumor, Preach. Everyone has a price and well, Reaper clearly paid a lot of money to men that he wants to keep her close.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He grabbed the money and headed out. Bear was at his bike, smoking. He was surprised there wasn’t a drink in his hand and this made Preacher stop.
After killing Rebecca, Bear had turned to women and alcohol. Was there a problem there he needed to take care of?
“Hold your hand out,” Preacher said.
“Is this some kind of joke?”
“Hold your fucking hand out.” Preacher waited.
Bear rolled his eyes. “Are you going to put a ring on my hand as well?” Bear held his hand out.
It was steady.
No shakes.
He put the money in his grip. “Take this back to the club.”
“You thought I was in withdrawal, didn’t you?” Bear asked.
Preacher sighed. “Can you blame me?”
“No, I can’t blame you but it’s a little unfair you think so fucking little of me.”
“I don’t think little of you, Bear. Drinking and sex, it’s all you’ve got. You’ve given up on Robin. What else do you have to live for?”
“I haven’t given up on my girl.”
“Then why do you keep on suggesting I stop looking for her, huh? If that’s not giving up, I don’t know what is. I’m trying to find her. We both know she’s alive, but you want to stop. Why?”
