by Kay Maree
“Food,” Hook states as he opens the door.
Standing there is a pimply-faced teenager who almost shits himself at the mere sight of Hook.
“P-Pizza delivery,” the kid stammers.
“How much?” asks Hook.
“The owner gave you a discount so $126, including tax.”
I get up, pull my wallet out of my back pocket and hand the kid seven twenty dollar bills. “Keep the change.”
“T-Thank you!”
He hands off the pizzas to Hook and scurries back to his car.
Hook smirks at me. “Let’s eat.”
We eat in comfortable silence for a while. All of them help themselves to my beer, and there’s no more talk about how I got to be president. Right now, all they are concerned about is how we’re going to get that extra million off Petrov.
“Hook, you mentioned Hammer was going to hook up with some chick the night he died?” With a mouthful of pizza, Hook nods. “Any chance she set him up?” I ask.
Hook puts down the slice and looks thoughtful. “I wouldn’t have thought so, but she disappeared around the same time, so maybe?”
“I liked her. She ran the bar. Candy was her name,” states Reaper.
“Aren’t they all called that?” I quip.
“Yeah, might as well be. She was good at running the bar, made us a profit,” replies Tank.
“So, where is she?”
The three men around the table all stare blankly at each other.
“You mean to say some whore goes missing, and none of you thought to chase her up?”
Hook shifts in his seat. “She disappeared before Hammer got whacked.”
“Not true,” states Reaper. “Candy came back to the bar. Seems Hammer tried to fuck her, and she bolted. She came back to us trying to get her job back. I saw her. Candy and Hammer looked friendly. It was the night Hammer and Brute bought it.”
“So, she had to be involved.” I look at Hook. “Where does she live?”
“No idea, but you can be sure I’ll find out.”
CHAPTER THREE
Wraith
The cold bites through my coat as I make my way through the streets of Montreux in Switzerland. My daughter, Ann, is still receiving treatment at the clinic here. I have her booked in under a pseudonym in case anyone from her past is hunting for her.
It’s been nearly six months, and she’s resisting treatment. Fucking Alec Petrov and his family sure did a number on her. My girl, my sixteen-year-old girl, really believes he loved her. Ann sees me as the enemy. I’m a monster who stole her away from her life. The doctor said it would take time to reverse the brainwashing, but I didn’t think it would take this long.
I open the door to the clinic, and the wind catches it sending it smashing into the century-old brickwork. I wince as I close it behind me, hoping I haven’t damaged the façade.
“Mr. Smith, good to see you,” says the receptionist as I walk into the building.
“Sorry about the door.”
The woman shrugs and waves a hand at me. “Do not worry. We have been talking about automatic doors for ages, but it is a historical building, and we do not wish to bastardize the aesthetics. My suggestion was to put a rubber strip on the door and the wall.”
I look at her name tag, Elsa. For some reason, it won’t stick, and I’m normally so good with little things like names. You can tell English isn’t her first language with the way she speaks, there’s no shortening of names or slang, it’s all very proper with an accent.
“You are here to see Ann, yes?”
“Yes. Is she in her room?”
Elsa gives me a smile and looks at her computer monitor. A slight frown creases her forehead.
“It seems Doctor Eriksson would like to speak to you.” Elsa pushes a button on her desk, and an orderly appears almost instantly. “Lucas, would you escort Mr. Smith to Doctor Eriksson’s office, please?”
“I know the way.”
Elsa smiles at me. “Yes, but Lucas will escort you.” Then she gestures for us to leave.
I smile and nod, then follow Lucas down the hallway. The walls are all painted white, and the flooring is wood, which has faded to a soft blonde color from years of service. Heat radiates up from the floor keeping the whole building nice and warm. Everything is very clean and expensive. I’ve been in Dr. Eriksson’s office many times, and he has plush red carpet in his office, which I’ve always found rather odd. You’d think he would have chosen something softer in color to blend in. Perhaps that’s the point—the one exciting color in a building decorated in soft tones. It could possibly be a psychological tactic.
Lucas knocks on his door, waits, and when he hears the lock unlock, he opens the door. Out of habit, I look up at the concealed camera above the door. Dr. Eriksson doesn’t let anyone in he doesn’t know. I suppose most of the patients are here for mental issues or drug abuse and could be considered dangerous. At least his locked door might offer him some form of protection from them.
“Ahh… Mr. Smith. So good to see you. Thank you, Lucas, you may go.”
The orderly shows no emotion as he leaves, nor does he say anything. Most of the employees here say little and react even less.
“You wanted to see me, Dr. Eriksson?” I sit in the chair opposite him. His desk, like this building, is old and weathered with intricate patterns carved into the legs. The wood has been polished, so it gleams a lovely cherry red.
The man’s lips turn down slightly. “Yes. Ann isn’t responding to treatment as well as we’d hoped. Her obsession with this Alec Petrov is unsettling. No matter what we do, she’s fixated on him and convinced he’s going to save her.”
“Dr. Eriksson, it’s vitally important Alec Petrov does not find my daughter. His name can’t appear in any correspondence, and it should not be mentioned outside of your offices. The man is dangerous. I’m working toward a solution, but I can’t have him interfering with Ann in any way before that can happen.”
“I completely understand. The main problem with Ann is, she looks to this man as her savior. Unfortunately, she looks at you as her tormentor, the man who destroyed her life.”
“We’ve discussed all this before—”
“Yes, we have, and you’ve made little progress with repairing your relationship with your daughter. You need to try harder.”
I sigh and clench the sides of my chair tighter. I know the man is right, but Ann isn’t making it easy on me, and her mother won’t even come to visit her.
With resignation in my voice, I say, “What do you need me to do?”
You see, there’s nothing I won’t do for my girl. Ann is sixteen, nearly seventeen. I am a member of a special forces unit that’s tied to the CIA. We run black ops. I’m good at it, but being a father, I failed miserably. So here we are in Switzerland, and I’m trying to get my girl to see she was sold to Alec Petrov. Sure, he claimed he loved her. Hell, he even told me he’d married my girl.
Make no mistake though, Alec Petrov will pay for what he’s done.
“Mr. Smith? Mr. Smith, are you listening?”
I shake my head and give the doctor my full attention. “Sorry. Got lost in my thoughts. How do I fix my girl?”
CHAPTER FOUR
Alec
The house is cold and lifeless without Ann. She wasn’t the first woman I’d appropriated from the Harbingers, but she was going to be the last. Ann wasn’t scared of me, not even slightly. She ruled this house, the servants, the bodyguards, and me. Even my mother approved of her. Mamma overlooked the fact she wasn’t Russian. She told me Ann was perfect for me. My father gave his blessing, but her father, Ann’s father, ruined everything.
“Sir?”
I’m in my study downstairs staring out at the landscape but not really seeing it. Security has been beefed up considerably since Ann’s abduction. My father insisted on it, but I had already put measures in place.
“What?” I ask without turning
around.
“Jax is here.”
Slowly, I turn. “Good. Bring him to me.”
I walk toward my desk and pick up the decanter filled with my favorite whiskey. Turning over two highball tumblers, I pour one for myself and one for Jax. I hear movement behind me, so I hold up Jax’s tumbler high in the air.
“The president is dead! Long live the president,” I yell dramatically and turn to find Jax and one of his men. “Ahh… you have someone with you?”
“This is Hook. He’s Sergeant at Arms in the MC. My bodyguard.”
I tilt my head and take in Jax’s appearance—he looks tired. His friend, though, appears alert as he surveys his surroundings.
Jax takes the tumbler from me, and I offer my own to his escort, who takes it with a nod. I pour myself another and sit in one of the chairs in my study. There’s another chair and a leather Chesterfield sofa for them to sit on.
I gesture toward the seats and sip my drink. “Do you have news?”
Jax looks at Hook and nods. “Yeah.” He takes a sip of the whiskey and coughs as it burns down his throat. “We’ve got a lead. We’re following it through.”
“On Ann?”
“No, on the Wraith.”
In a fit of rage, I throw my highball tumbler across the room, and it shatters against the far wall, amber liquid sliding down to a sea of glass. “I don’t care about him. I want Ann.”
The door to my study flies open and in rush two guards with guns drawn.
I stand. “Get. Out.” They look around the room, nod, and leave. My gaze falls to Jax. “I’ve promised you a lot of money to get her back.”
“You promised us another million if we brought you the head of the Wraith. You said nothing about Ann,” replies Jax unflinchingly.
“Then the deal has changed. I want the Wraith, and I want my wife back.”
Jax throws back the rest of his whiskey and bares his teeth as it goes down. “Fair enough. But I want your assurance if we bring you the Wraith, you’ll pay us regardless.”
“I need Ann.”
Jax shakes his head. “I can give you a dozen Ann’s. You tell me what you want. Virgin? Blonde?”
I sit back down and glare at him. “There will never be another Ann. Do not…” I pause and point at him. “Do not suggest that to me ever again. Are we clear?”
“We’re clear.”
Jax stands and walks toward my desk, pouring himself another whiskey. “If we find the Wraith, we might find Ann.”
“Makes sense. He’s her father.”
“What?” replies Hook loudly.
I frown and stare at him. “What?”
Hook leans forward, and I notice his drink is untouched. “The Wraith is Ann’s father? How do you know this?”
“He told me before he took her.”
“For fuck’s sake! You don’t think you should have shared this with us?” demands Hook.
I rub my forehead. “I didn’t tell you?”
“No,” replies Hook, with no small amount of venom.
“It’s been a trying time.”
“Alec, this was important. What was Ann’s real name?” asks Jax.
“Ann Felder.”
Jax sighs and nods. “Right, I knew that. This makes it a lot fucking easier to track them.”
“You said you had another lead?” I ask.
“Yeah, but if Ann has family, they could be hiding with them.”
“Good. Now, you’re behind on your shipments. You owe us fifteen. When can we expect delivery?”
“It takes time to rebuild. We have supplied you with merchandise.” Jax sits back in his seat.
“It’s been six months. Surely, you have your people in place by now?”
“It’s not that easy. We’ve changed the way we do things. We can’t have this happen again.” Jax shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “We’ll make up the lost girls. There’s a shipment coming through soon. Illegals. They’ll make us square.”
“Merchandise,” I reply as I stand and walk to my study door. “Good. We’re done here. Contact me when you have information on Ann or her father. As for the product, go through our normal channels. I don’t want to discuss this with you again.”
Jax stands and places his tumbler on the coffee table. Hook does the same.
“You don’t like whiskey?”
Hook eyes me and shakes his head. “Can’t lose another prez. Need to be on my toes.”
I nod and turn my lips down. There’s something not quite right about this one. But I know he’s been in the club for a while, so he must be trustworthy. Still, a man who doesn’t drink with you is someone to be cautious of.
“Alec, we’ll get this fucker. We will deliver, and everything will go back to the way it was.”
I hold out my hand to Jax, and as he grasps my hand, I lock eyes with him. “Make sure it does.”
My meaning is clear—if things don’t go back to normal, we will find another supplier, and I’ll have Jax’s head on my wall.
CHAPTER FIVE
Jax
I walk out of Alec Petrov’s house smiling to myself. He thinks he’s the big man, but he’s not half the man his father was. Hook gives me a quizzical look as I mount my bike.
“What?”
“What are you grinning about? That fucker threatened you, us.”
“I hold many of Alec’s secrets. I’ll be fine. Let’s go hunting for the Felders.”
Hook climbs on his bike. “Yeah, I’ll put the word out. Now that we have a name to go on, it should make things easier.”
“You find Candy?”
“Tracked down where she was living. Real name is Suzannah Stone. She’s got a kid called Jack. She paid off the babysitter and disappeared. It’s as if fell she off the face of the earth. There’s no trace. Doesn’t mean I won’t keep looking. If it’s one thing I’ve learned, there’s always something, I just haven’t found it yet.”
I nod at him and start my bike. The front doors to Alec’s home open and a burly security guard comes out with a large envelope. He holds it out to Hook, who takes it from him.
“Boss says it’s got all the information on Mrs. Petrov you might need.” He nods once and goes back inside.
“Well, this should make things easier,” I state, looking at Hook.
He tucks the envelope into his waistband at the front and does up his jacket and nods. “Yeah. Where are we off to?”
“Clubhouse.”
Hook nods. “Brother, do you mind if I follow you and then call it a day? I’m not feeling the best. I’ll get Reaper to keep an eye on you.”
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”
“No, you don’t, but if something happens to you, I’m out. And I like being in.”
“So if I’m fat and happy, you’re fat and happy?”
“Something like that.”
I snicker at him. “See if you can keep up.”
***
The clubhouse bar is full of members. I walk in and head straight for the backroom with Hook following close behind. Sitting on the desk, naked, is a club whore. I think her name is Debbie. Laughter bubbles up out of me.
“Well, looks like today is my lucky day.”
Hook pats me on the back. “Wrap it twice with that one, Prez.”
“Shut the door on your way out.”
Hook chuckles and leaves the room. I undo my belt buckle and walk toward Debbie. The closer I get to her, I realize she’s out of it. “Debbie?”
“Yeah, Jax?”
I go around the desk and open the top drawer full of condoms. I tear one of them open with my teeth, pull out my cock, and stroke it. It’s been a few days since I got laid. I put the condom on and walk back around the desk and look into Debbie’s eyes. “You’re fucked up, aren’t you, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, Jax.”
I push her back on the table, then grab under her knees and pull her forward so her ass is o
ff the desk. “You’re going to enjoy this.”
“Yeah, Jax.”
I push into her, and she closes her eyes. There’s no reason to take it easy on her, I’m probably one of many who’s fucked her today. The only sound in the room is our bodies slapping together. I pull out of Debbie and flip her over. She’s done this before. Her hands grip the other side of the desk, and she spreads her legs, ass up in the air. I grip her hips and begin my assault again.
“Jax!”
“Nearly there,” I hiss.
“You’re hurting me.”
I smile at the back of her head.
Does it really matter?
“Jax!”
I stop and look around the room. On the floor near the door is a shirt, it’s probably hers. I pick it up and go back to Debbie as she’s standing up. I ball the material up and shove it in her mouth, then I push her back down while she struggles beneath me. Laughter erupts from me as I fuck her as hard and fast as I can, not caring if I hurt her or not. She is, after all, club-whore property
.
CHAPTER SIX
Hook
I’ve no intention of watching Jax fuck Debbie. I can barely stand the man, and seeing him screw the club slut isn’t on my list of things to do before I leave this planet. I ride out of town, hoping I never have to go back. It takes over an hour to get to my destination, then I park my bike behind a sign and get into the small car that’s been hidden here and drive for another two hours. All this to make sure they don’t follow me or find out what I’m up to. It’s exhausting, but it’s been over six months since I’ve made this trip.
I arrive at the cabin hidden in the woods. There’s no one around as I get out of the car and mount the stairs to the porch. The door is locked, so I check the usual hidey-holes for the key. The top of the door, not there. The fake rock, not there. Under the welcome mat, not there. I’m about to start digging through the overgrown garden when the front door opens.
“You’re overdue.”
“Fuck, Shannon, you’re here?”
“I’ve been here the first week of every fucking month for six months. Where the fuck have you been?”
