by Debra Kayn
She kept walking toward him and only stopped when she was close enough to touch him. "I need to ask you something."
He nodded. "Go ahead."
"I went to the cave." She leaned closer. "Can you tell me where the man is?"
His skin prickled. "What cave?"
Only members of AFMC knew about the cave and what happened inside under the direction of the Alpha Bio Project. Speeder would never allow his daughter to know what happened there.
Trina moistened her lips. "I meet the controller every week, but I don't know how to find him now that I can't get in the cave. I don't want to get in trouble."
His pulse pounded in alertness. Trina couldn't know the controller. It was impossible.
"The controller?" He inhaled deeply. "Why do you see him?"
She glanced behind her before whispering again. "I always answer his questions."
"What kind of questions?" His body hardened, not liking the direction of the conversation.
She shook her head. "I can't tell you."
He changed his approach, not wanting her to clam up. "Where's the cave, Trina?"
"In Sether mountain. The tunnel is gone. It's filled with rocks. I tried to find a way in, but it's blocked. Can you help me?" Trina chewed on her fingernail.
He shook his head, unprepared for what he was learning. If Trina knew about the program, how many others outside the club knew?
Trina's chin trembled. "Is my dad in the cave?"
"No." He paused, seeing the fear she carried. "Speeder's safe."
It wasn't exactly a lie. The last time he talked to Speeder, he was alive. Though by now, he was going through his own personal hell with the switch. He couldn't guarantee Speeder would make it out of the changes alive.
"I have to meet the controller, or he'll make me leave my dad." Trina backed up, darting her gaze left and right.
He stepped forward. "Wait."
Trina stiffened, freezing in the position of running away from him. He forced himself to soften his voice.
"How long have you known about the cave?" he asked.
Trina frowned. "I've always known about it."
Could those in control of the AB Project have used children for their experiments? He shook his head. The idea disturbed him, knowing what he'd gone through. A child would never survive.
"Are you feeling okay, Trina?" he asked.
If she was telling the truth—and he suspected she was with the information she'd given him, she would be going through withdrawals from the drugs. The switch would happen to her, too. While she wasn't old enough to have her past come out and kick her ass, the trauma of going through it alone would scare her.
Trina shrugged. "I just really want my dad."
"He'll be home soon enough. You're staying with Bonnie and the boys, right?"
"Bonnie's at the store. Zach told me I only have an hour, and then I have to go back before his mom returns."
"Zach's right. You need to go back to Trip's house."
"But I have to find the cont—"
"He's not at the cave." He decided to tell her the truth before he had another problem on his hands. "The controller won't be coming back to Avery Falls or contacting you again."
"That's not true." Trina hugged her middle. "I'll get in trouble if I don't go. I won't be able to stay here."
"Listen to me. He can't hurt you anymore," he said softly. "I promise. Your dad will explain everything when he gets back."
Still, she hesitated. He lifted his chin, motioning for her to leave. "Go. Hurry."
Trina ran toward the river. He opened the gate.
Speeder would be out for blood once he finds out they'd used his daughter. Coupled with the rage going through Trina's dad now, it was a disaster waiting to happen.
Knocked sideways by the revelation that the Alpha Bio Project had used a child, he wondered what else he'd find out.
As he approached the clubhouse, he strained to hear the activity inside. There were too many voices going at once. Some in anger. Some crying out. Some repeating the same meaningless words over and over.
His heart raced, thrown back to the time he'd gone through the switch on his own. He wanted to go back home and stay there with Grace until it was all over.
But he'd taken a pledge to his MC brothers.
Unlocking the outer lock, he prepared for the others to bust out, mowing him down. He couldn't blame them for wanting to escape the nightmare they were stuck in.
Nobody met him at the door. He stepped inside, prepared to defend himself. Quickly, putting the lock on the inside to make sure nobody got out while he was here, he spotted Hank.
The new hair growth on Hank's normally clean-shaven face showed how much his MC brother suffered. Hank stayed sitting in the chair, his elbows propped against the table in front of him.
Keenan walked over and sat beside him. "I don't have to ask how you're doing."
Hank hung his head. "You're in no danger from me."
"Everyone's in danger. The sooner you believe that the faster you'll be able to protect yourself," he said.
"There were children." Hank raised his anguished eyes and met Keenan's gaze. Children, man. They should've castrated me instead of taking me out and putting me in the project."
Keenan's stomach tightened. Nobody had to tell him what kind of man Hank was in his past. The sickness rolled off Hank as he came to terms with his new reality.
"You can fight those feelings. Don't let them back in and change you." His jaw locked at knowing Hank's biggest crime centered around children. "If you can't..."
He thought of Trina outside. Of Zach and Kenny. Of the handful of local children that were innocent of what was happening in Avery Falls. Would they be safe from men like Hank when the switch was over?
"You touch any of them, I'll kill you myself." He met Hank's tortured gaze. "When the time comes, and if you can't walk out that door with absolute control of yourself, you better stick a fucking gun to your head because any member of AFMC will be after you."
Standing, he left the table. None of them were free from their past. The only thing different between him and Hank was the fact that he would never harm a child.
At the side of the room, Franco punched the wall, over and over. Blood painted the brick, running onto the floor. If he came away with only a busted, mangled hand at the end of the switch, he was one of the lucky ones.
Keenan walked around Steven, who wallowed on the floor, curled up in a fetal position naked. Half his hair on the side of his hair, pulled out, leaving raw scabs on his skin.
Ruger ran up to Keenan. Prepared, he grabbed the youngest member and held him still.
"Take me out of here." Ruger's face twisted. "I need to find my sister."
"You're not going anywhere." He pushed Ruger toward a chair. "Sit."
Ruger tried to push up. Keenan shoved him down, squeezing the back of Ruger's neck.
"Two more days, brother. Wait two more days, and it'll get easier." He waited until Ruger's muscles lost some of their tension and let him go.
Scanning the room, he asked, "Where's Prez?"
"Don't know." Ruger pressed his head against the table. "Don't know."
There was nothing more he could do here. The men were on their own. All he could do was make sure none of them got out of the clubhouse and spread throughout the town, taking their pain and fear out on others.
He couldn't be responsible for the death and destruction they would cause to the locals and tourists.
Men with a past who retained the enhancements given to them by the Alpha Bio Project were naturally killers. Gaining their emotions through the switch made them unpredictable and dangerous.
After killing Four, he accepted that those emotions he'd gained weren't present when he killed. He'd felt nothing.
He once again used the key to take off the lock at the door, then he slipped outside and slid the padlock back through the mechanism on the outside. The building already had a steel door. All the
windows— except the one in the meeting room, which was locked— had been removed years ago, giving the club privacy from anyone on the outside.
Unless the others rubbed two chair legs together and started a fire, burning the place down, they should remain inside.
As he walked toward the gate, he scanned the area. Prez was the only other person who had a key. Somehow, he had to figure out where Prez had gone.
Chapter Nineteen
Outside the house, Keenan pinned a biker to the ground. Grace let the curtain fall and walked back to the couch. She was no longer interested in how he occupied his time when he was not inside with her.
Nothing ever changed.
He kept her locked inside.
Even if she discovered a way out, the danger of knowing there were others ready to hurt her kept her from trying to escape. She'd accepted that the only way she was going to get back home to her sister was if law enforcement showed up and arrested Keenan.
Maybe they could put her into the witness protection program until someone discovered who it was that sent her here and wanted to hurt her. They could even let Amelia hide out with her.
That was the best scenario. Amelia would be scared, but she wouldn't have to keep believing Grace was dead.
The door in the kitchen opened. She pulled her feet up on the couch and leaned into the arm of the sofa. At least with Keenan back in the house, she wasn't alone.
She had no idea how long he'd stay. Lately, he seemed to come and go numerous times a day. Each time he returned, he appeared more haggard and tired. The unemotional man she thought had kidnapped her was slowly being replaced with someone she wasn't familiar with.
While he remained closed off and non-verbal during the few times she'd tried to start a conversation, his eyes held constant turmoil. She could tell by looking at him that his mind hadn't stopped thinking, even if his body language screamed of exhaustion. Their situation constantly dominated his thoughts. And whatever occupied him, the assumed outcome displeased him.
She rubbed her temple. He wasn't the only one consumed by the situation. On top of everything, she was the one he'd kidnapped.
Her frustration over Keenan's lack of communication and confessing to who was behind bringing her to Avery Falls continued to bug her. She blamed him, whether he was guilty or not.
Footsteps grew closer. Keenan dropped a sack beside her on the couch and then appeared in view as he crossed the living room.
She lowered her hand. "What's that?"
"Food."
"I'm not hungry."
"You're going to eat." He sat down in the chair across from her. "If you don't, you'll get sick, and then you'll be no help to yourself."
"Isn't that your plan? You don't care what happens to me." She grabbed the bag and looked inside, finding a burger and fries.
Her stomach turned. Knowing she'd typically love to eat the meal, she also knew the grease would further torture her.
She picked a few fries out, surprised they were still piping hot. "I didn't think Avery Falls had fast food."
"They have a deli in the store that sells cold sandwiches and picnic items. I asked them to cook a meal."
"And of course, they did because you're you and get everything you want," she mumbled more to herself than him.
His gaze never left her. She swallowed. While she could never read his thoughts, he always seemed to know what she was thinking.
"Aren't you going to eat?" she asked.
"I dropped more food in the fridge. I'll fix something later." He kept looking at her.
Not wanting to rock the boat, she forced herself to chew through his inspection of her. He'd stopped asking if she still hurt from the beating. She'd told him the pain was gone—and it was true. But as soon as she'd deemed herself healed, the bruises started popping up, growing darker every day.
For the first time in her life, she sported a black eye. From there, the discoloration went down and circled her neck, and covered her right side.
She unwrapped part of the hamburger and took a bite. After she swallowed, she grew uncomfortable with the way he continued to watch her.
"Why were you fighting that biker outside?" She took another bite and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Did you disagree?"
The more she knew about him, she hoped to put more pieces of his life together. He remained a mystery to her. If she could find his weakness and use it against him, maybe she could also find a way around him to escape.
Keenan inhaled deeply. "A difference of opinion."
"What?" She took another bite. "You believe in kidnapping, and he doesn't? Does the other guy even know I'm here?"
She couldn't tell one biker from another. They all looked the same in their leather vests, longer hair, and beards.
Though, by far, Keenan had the wildest appearance. Maybe because he was the only man in Avery Falls she'd seen up close and not viewed through a glass window.
The only one she'd kissed.
Not that she'd kissed him back, but she'd allowed him to kiss her.
"They know you're here." He got up and walked into the kitchen.
She dropped the rest of her hamburger in the bag and followed him. Her stomach was already full.
"They know I'm here. Isn't that unsafe, considering someone has already tried to kill me?"
Keenan stood in front of the fridge, staring at the few contents on the shelf without answering her. When he made no move to get something, she stepped around him and put the sack with the rest of her meal inside.
He never budged. Washing her hands, she glanced over her shoulder. He mentioned eating later. Maybe he had to talk himself into cooking the food since most of it appeared to be vegetables.
She dried her hands.
He slammed the fridge door, startling her.
She pressed her hand to her pounding heart. "What was that about?"
"Nothing." He walked back into the living room.
"It wasn't nothing." She followed him and sat on the couch as he looked out the window. "Something pissed you off."
His shoulders remained tense. "I want a drink."
"Oh." She curled her legs under her. "I thought you were mad about something big."
"Big enough," he muttered.
"Well, if you want a drink, go get one."
"I can't." He turned away from the window. "Not yet. Not until..."
"Until what? You're no longer keeping me captive?"
"Not until I have my MC brothers back."
"Where did they go?"
"They're just not around." He exhaled harshly. "Why don't you go to bed?"
She shrugged. "I rather know why you can't drink until your biker buds are back."
"You're nosey." He sat in the chair.
"Normally, I'm not. But you're the only person I've had contact with in a long time."
His gaze narrowed, and he pulled on his beard, getting his fingers stuck in the tangle of whiskers. She eyed the mess growing down the front of his chest.
"Do you always have a long beard?" she asked.
Obviously, it'd taken him a long time to grow whiskers that long. But he acted surprised when his fingers tangled in the overgrown and unkept bush.
He yanked his hand, extracting his fingers. "I usually don't keep it this long."
"How long have you been growing it?"
"I don't know." He frowned. "J.J. used to cut it every so often."
"Who's J.J.?"
"No one important."
She hummed, wondering if J.J. was a woman or man. Avery Falls was too small to have a hair stylist. He could even go to the next town for essentials. Maybe J.J. was his barber.
"You should cut it off," she said.
"No."
"Well, at least trim it." She propped her elbow on the arm of the couch and cradled her head in her hand. "And cut your hair a little shorter. You'd look less like a monster."
"People tend to stay away from me regardless of how I look."
"Wh
atever." She rolled her eyes. "It's your face that scares people, anyway."
He tilted his head and gazed at her. She would never win a staring contest with him. Not when she had no idea what was going through his head.
Growing uncomfortable, she scooted down on the couch and laid her head on her upper arm, closing her eyes. That way, she couldn't see him. She couldn't see the way he looked at her.
When normal conversations ended with Keenan, she always grew uncomfortable. The mix of hatred and lust played in her head, and she despised him more for making her feel that way toward him.
"Cut it."
She opened her eyes. "What?"
"Cut my hair and beard." He stood.
She sat up straighter. "I don't know how—"
"Fucking shave it all off if you want." He stormed from the room.
"That's not what I meant when I said you should trim it," she yelled after him.
"Are you coming?" he asked. The question came out more like a bark.
She walked down the hallway and found him in the bathroom, holding a pair of scissors. Afraid he'd whack off his hair because she made a comment, she grabbed them. "This is a stupid idea."
"It's what you wanted." He sat down on the lid of the toilet and closed his eyes. "Just do it."
She bit the bottom of her lip, eyeing his head. She'd never cut her hair, much less someone else's.
"I don't know where to start," she muttered.
"Do my hair first."
"How short do you usually have it?" She stepped closer.
He sliced his hand in the air at the level of his shoulder. She blew out her breath and looked for the brush that was always on the counter. Setting the scissors down, she carefully worked the tangles out of his hair until all the strands hung straight. The mass of hair hung to the middle of his back. She could tell that at one time, he'd had it layered. She wanted to leave it long enough he could flip it back, and it'd stay off his forehead.
Taking a small section, she held it between two fingers like she'd seen the hairstylists do all her life.
"Are you sure? This is the last chance to stop me," she said.
"Do it."
She clipped, shocked when her hand came away, holding four inches of his hair. "Shit."
