“I guess to feel safe, you gotta know that something is out there that you need protection from. So, I’d say there was a healthy amount of fear wrapped up in it, as well.”
“Sure, makes sense,” she said.
“You were an undercover cop, huh?” Grace had filled us in on her history during our meeting yesterday and I was impressed with her. She was strong and smart and beautiful. Ryder was a lucky man.
“Yep, gave it all up, though,” she said, staring out the window.
“You miss it?”
“Not for a second,” she said. “This life is much better suited to my work. I can decide the best way to handle a situation and handle it, without a bunch of pesky lawyers and judges and bureaucracy getting in the way.”
“So, you aren’t afraid of what we’re about to walk into?”
“Sure, a little. But I’m also driven to get those women to safety and my fear pales in comparison to the urgency I feel now. That feeling of knowing someone is being hurt and needs help. The knowledge that nobody else is coming to help them. All of that overrides my fear. Fear is good, don’t get me wrong. I respect fear. I listen to fear. If I didn’t, I’d have been dead a long time ago. Instead, I use it as a tool.”
“I’m really impressed with all you and your organization does. I had no idea there was anything like this,” I replied.
“Thanks,” she said, staring thoughtfully out the window. “We’ve come a long way. I’m very proud.”
“You should be,” I nodded.
“It’s so unsettling to see all these people, going on with their everyday lives, enjoying their dinners and getting drunk and partying and doing all the things that make up a normal life, and know what’s going down in dirty back rooms, to be aware of all the suffering that coexists that none of us usually see…”
“Yeah,” I agreed, suddenly speechless. Her passion for helping others was starkly apparent and I felt like a complete shithead in comparison. I pushed away the thoughts of all the shit I’d done, all the violent acts I’d committed, in the name of business. I’d never enslaved or raped anyone, thankfully I had some boundaries, but I’d shot men that maybe didn’t deserve to be shot. I’d stolen from other clubs. I’d done all kinds of illegal shit.
It was going to take a real long time to make up for all of that.
I looked over at Grace, my heart swelling.
What was that feeling in there? I wanted to say it was pride, but I’d done nothing yet to be proud of.
I wondered at what lay ahead. We’d planned everything out meticulously before leaving. Ryder had pulled me aside and expressed the severity of the situation and the absolute necessity to keep Grace safe at all times. Failure was not an option and he made that abundantly clear. The unspoken threat of his wrath was enough to make me intent upon making sure this mission was successful.
I couldn’t fuck it up.
But the longer I spent with Grace, the more I wanted to succeed for her sake.
I’d never met a woman like her before.
CHAPTER 8
GRACE
Nate asked me if I was nervous.
Of course, I was nervous, but was I going to show it?
No way. I’d learned long ago that was the worst thing I could do.
I kept my cool and followed the plan. Those two things would keep me alive.
Our plan was as foolproof as could be.
Slade called Tiny last night and told him he had a potential investor that wanted to meet with Snake. Even though Tiny was still a little annoyed that both Riot and Slade had slipped out of the party without partaking in any of the services they were offering them, along with the fact that the Gods had passed up his business proposal, he agreed to pass the message along. A few hours later, Tiny called back.
Snake was interested.
The meeting was arranged and Nate was selected to accompany me to the meeting. I’d present myself as a wealthy woman who made her money the same way Snake’s club was making theirs.
Human trafficking is prevalent along the I-5 corridor, victims being shipped night and day all along the West Coast. It’s been going on for years and sometimes I wonder if we’ll ever be able to save them all. Probably not. Unfortunately, I have to accept that grim reality, but I’m determined to rescue as many as I can. One case at a time, that’s all I can do.
But who knows? Maybe one day, all the suffering will end on Earth. Wouldn’t that be nice? The hungry will be fed, the homeless will be sheltered, the tyrants will fall and all the shackles imprisoning these women will turn to dust and freedom, true freedom, will reign…
I snapped myself back to the present. Sometimes, I get carried away with my fantasies of world peace, but this isn’t the time for that.
Keep my cool, follow the plan…
“Let’s go over things one last time before we get there,” I nodded to Nate, as he drove past the endless used car dealerships, fast food restaurants and strip malls that lined 82nd Avenue.
“Sure, sure,” he replied. I glanced over at him, trying not to notice that he looked nervous. Maybe I’d chosen wrong. Perhaps I should have chosen Fury. He was cold and hard, much more so than the two brothers. I wondered if I’d mistaken Nate’s steely silence and large size for strength and resilience.
It was too late to doubt him now, though.
No turning back.
“You’ve got your phone?” I asked. We were both in possession of brand new, untraceable burner phones.
“Yep,” he nodded, his eyes trained on the road ahead. It was rainy and dark and cold tonight, a typical Portland December night. The streets shimmered with bright, wet reflections of flickering street lights, mixed with the occasional Christmas lights, to create a kaleidoscope of colorful chaos in front of us. The headlights of my Mustang, the newest addition to our small fleet of vehicles that I’d claimed as my own, tore through the darkness as Nate turned left down Foster Road.
“Good,” I said. “Ryder and the rest of the guys are waiting at the hotel, so if anything goes wrong, you know where to find them.”
I’d had a huge fight with Ryder before we left, and I was still reeling from it. He’d wanted to follow behind us, stay a block away or so, but I insisted it was too close. If he wasn’t so worried about me, he would have been thinking clearly and realized that he would no doubt be spotted, if not by Snake himself, then easily by one of his men. But he wasn’t. Thinking clearly, that is.
He was thinking like a protective brute with a clouded mind and to be honest, although understandable, it was wearing on me. I needed him to be focused on the task at hand. Nothing was more important to me than saving these women. Not even my safety.
So, I’d left without our usual hug. Without our usual kiss.
Without our usual I love you’s…
I didn’t know which hurt more.
“Ma’am?” Nate asked, glancing over at me.
“Call me Grace.”
“Grace,” he nodded. “Grace, I just wanted to tell you that I appreciate the opportunity you guys are giving me, giving us, I mean. And I promise I’ll make sure you’re safe. I won’t let anyone hurt you in there. I know how much you mean to Ryder.”
I scoffed.
“Well, I hope you do it because that’s the job, not because of Ryder. But thanks.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he stammered.
“I know what you meant,” I said, smiling over at him. “It’s fine. Thank you. But I want you to know, Nate, that I’m pretty good with a revolver myself. I was a cop, remember? So, don’t worry. I’ve got your back, too.”
He smiled and nodded, his shoulders relaxing a little.
He seemed like a nice enough guy, but I couldn’t help but wonder who was protecting whom here?
Oh, well, I thought. What’s done is done.
After a few more turns, we pulled up to a cluster of warehouses, surrounded by tall chain-link fencing. Riot and Slade had drawn us a map of the place, so we already knew there were o
nly a few ways in and out. The gate in the middle of the block was deserted and quiet, the speaker box barely visible in the darkness as we rolled up to it.
Within seconds, the roar of vicious growling and barking tore through the air as the herd of dogs came barreling around the corner and stopping right in front of the car, our headlights illuminating their exposed fangs, their mouths gaping open with ribbons of frothy drool swaying under their chins as they fought each other for the chance to be closest to the gate.
“Jesus,” Nate said. We sat frozen in the car, watching them for a moment in awe. “They’re all muscle.”
“I wonder how many faces they’ve eaten off?”
“I don’t think I want to know.”
“There’s so many of them.”
“Slade said Snake has them under control,” I shrugged.
“I’ll call in,” Nate said, lowering his window. He paused and looked over at me.
“Ready?”
“Ready.” I nodded firmly, determined to remain completely professional. At least up until the dogs begin ripping my face off. He pressed a few buttons on the box and we waited in silence.
Ryder’s face flashed in my mind and I pushed it away. We’ll get through this. We’d been through worse.
After a moment, a muffled voice sounded from the box.
“Who is it?” A male voice crackled through the window.
“Grace Stevens. I have an appointment with Snake.”
“Stay in your car.” A few beeps and the gate opened. We waited, watching as the dogs swarmed around us. I stretched my head, looking down at the front tire as one of the dogs began gnawing on the rubber. The others barked and roamed around aimlessly. I jumped as one of them jumped up on two legs right next to my window and barked loudly.
“Get down, you asshole!” A figure approached in the dark, his frame silhouetted by the bright light coming from the building behind him. The dog beside me was pulled away. The figure walked past my door and around to the front of the Mustang, where he pulled out what appeared to be about five pounds of bright red flesh that he scattered around on the ground inside and just to the right of the gate. The dogs swarmed on the meat and all interest in my car disappeared.
The man walked over to my door and opened it, offering his hand out for me.
“Grace?” he asked.
“Yes, hello,” I said, taking his hand and gingerly stepping out of the car, keeping one eye on the pack of hungry dogs.
“I’m Snake,” he said, “Nice to meet you.”
“It’s my pleasure, Snake. I’ve brought my colleague with me,” I said, smiling and motioning to Nate. “This is Nate.”
“I’m mostly her driver,” Nate said, running around the back of the car to join us.
“Nice to meet you,” Snake said. I took a second to rake my eyes over him, surveying his body language at the same time as I checked for weapons. I spotted the outline of a handgun under his black leather jacket and the tip of a large knife poking out of his worn leather boot that he’d tucked his Levi’s into. I was pretty sure if I reached around behind him, I’d find another gun tucked into his waistband. But when he turned to me and smiled, I saw his real weapon.
Like a movie star, his smile lit up his face, oozing charm and rugged beauty and pure, animalistic masculinity — a powerful weapon all mixed up together. He was a seedy George Clooney or more accurately, an older, gruffer Jason Momoa, his long dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail, leaving wayward strands of salt and pepper curls falling around his weathered face, unsuccessfully attempting to obscure the angry, jagged scar that ran up his right cheekbone.
But I wasn’t fooled by that smile or enchanted by that charm.
Jeffrey Dohmer had the smile of an angel. I knew you couldn’t judge a book by its cover and you couldn’t judge a bad guy by the twinkle in his eye, either. From all reports, the man in front of me had committed unforgivable sins. I wasn’t about to succumb to the charms of a man like that.
I had integrity.
And after being around the Gods all these years, I knew what a real man looked like. I looked around slowly, first at Snake, but then at the countless other men milling around behind him in the compound, drinking beer and passing around joints, jovially joking around with each other.
At first glance, it looked like a normal group of guys.
But I knew what was lingering behind the closed doors. And I couldn’t wait to get inside and free those girls. My heart ached when I imagined all they’d been through. I wouldn’t stop until each and every one of them was safe.
“Why don’t you park the car on the street?” Snake said to Nate. “We’ll wait here. Nothing will stop those dogs from eating until it’s all gone, but once they’re finished, they just look for the next bite of flesh. Live or dead.”
“Will do,” Nate said, jumping back in the car and backing up. He parked it close by and jogged back to us.
“Come on in,” Snake said, walking through the gates and pausing to close it behind us. The dogs were still focused on the bloody meat they were tearing into and I shuddered to think of what Snake had described, what they’d be like when the meat was all gone.
I shot a reassuring glance to Nate and we followed Snake in. I could feel the tension rolling off of him and it worried me, but I pushed it aside. I could handle myself. Nate was mostly here for show. I’d learned a long time ago not to depend on a man to have nerves of steel. Only the rare few could really keep their cool in stressful situations. Women were much better at that.
We strolled past the men I’d spotted earlier and they barely paused to glance at us. The party was in full swing, with some men wearing cuts and some without. The only other woman I noticed was walking towards us. She stopped when she reached us and Snake pulled her in for a long, sloppy kiss. Awkwardly, we looked on until he was finished. She stiffened under his embrace and pulled away with a sheepish smile.
“Sophia, this is Grace. She’s interested in possibly doing business with the club.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking her hand. She had long fingers, topped with talon-like, pointy black fingernails that raked against my palm as she pulled away.
“Nice to meet you, Grace,” she nodded, looking me over skeptically. “What kind of business?”
“I’m a broker,” I replied, trying not to shudder as I said the words.
She nodded and smiled politely, her eyes squinting suspiciously at me.
“I see. Well, I’ll leave you to your business,” she said, turning back to Snake. “I have to help my Mom out with that thing I told you about. I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
“Tell Ma I said hey,” Snake said, slapping her on the ass as she walked away.
“Will do,” she said, calling over her shoulder as we watched her disappear. Her jeans were tight and her low-cut, animal print blouse was just as tight, showing off all her curves. Her hair was long and black and perfectly curled, and it swayed around her shoulders as she walked.
“Well, now that the old ball and chain has left, let’s have some fun, shall we?” Snake said, grabbing my arm and pulling me close to his side. I laughed and flung my hair over my shoulder as I smiled up at him and leaned into him just slightly. I needed to get close, but there was no way in hell I was getting any physically closer to this prick.
“Sounds good to me,” I said, keeping my voice light, as I pushed the initial feelings of panic away. I gently untangled myself from Snake and we walked into the clubhouse with him.
A long, wooden bar with a raw edge sprawled along one wall, and if I didn’t know this was an outlaw biker’s clubhouse, I could have convinced myself it was any other bar, on any other day. Above the bar hung a twenty-foot long, shiny black serpent, forged from metal.
Raucous laughter rang out over loud rock music. The smell of stale beer, cigarettes and pot smoke hung heavy in the air.
Snake led us up to a dark booth in the corner and we all sat down as a big, burly man with a bald, tattooe
d head brought three beers over and sat them down in front of us.
“Want a bottle, boss?” he snarled.
“Bottle of Jim Beam, please, Bear,” Snake nodded. The guy wandered off and I wondered if they were all named after animals.
“So, you called yourself a broker, Grace,” he said, looking directly at me as he raised the bottle to his lips. Cold beads of perspiration dripped down the neck of the frosty bottle. “I have to admit, I was intrigued to hear a woman was coming to meet with me. But Slade assured Tiny that you were legit, and I gotta tell you, now that I’ve gotten a look at you, you don’t exactly strike me as the type.”
I took a deep breath and met his gaze head on, slowly leaning forward before letting a sly smile spread across my face.
“I can assure you that I’m the type of woman who is serious about making money. Obscene amounts of money.”
Snake laughed and pulled out a pack of Marlboros from the front pocket of his black t-shirt and lit up a cigarette. He shook his head, looking at me with amusement.
“Seems like a woman like you could find a different way of doing that.”
I shook my head, my expression growing serious.
“I’m very good at my job, Snake. There are all kinds of other operations, just like yours, up and down the coast. Now, you can sit there and size me up all you want. I’m used to men like you, you come with the territory, I get it. But what I’m not interested in is wasting time — yours or mine.”
He cocked an eyebrow, a half-smile lifting the corner of his mouth as he listened. I knew I was pushing it, but I had to find a way to gauge just how much he’d take. Bear returned with a freshly open bottled of Jim Beam and sat it on the table with three shot glasses, which he promptly filled before walking away.
“Men like me?” Snake asked, grabbing one of them.
“What?”
“You said, ‘men like me’, what did you mean?”
“Men who think they understand what makes me tick,” I said, my voice low and quiet.
He leaned forward, flashing those dark eyes my way.
“So tell me, Grace,” he said. “I’ll resist being presumptuous. Why are you really here?”
SAVING GRACE: GODS OF CHAOS MC (BOOK SIX) Page 5
