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Rise of the Phoenix: Phoenix Skulls Motorcycle Club: (Phoenix Skulls MC Romance Book 1)

Page 12

by Cooke, Jessie


  She felt the man’s hands on her and nearly choked on the stifled scream stuck in her throat. She breathed as slowly as she could, trying hard to remain limp and pretend like she was sleeping. If the man thought she was still out, maybe that would buy her some time to figure things out. She was in the man’s arms now and they were moving. He was carrying her like a baby. He pushed her into his body tighter and she felt him holding onto her with one big arm as he used the other hand to slide open another door. It sounded like a glass door. She didn’t know if that was important or not, but maybe if she paid attention to everything...something would help.

  The man carried her another six or eight feet before turning right. He walked a few steps and she felt herself being dropped down onto a mattress, or something soft. It smelled bad, though, like body odor...or something even worse. She lay there, trying to channel a rag doll while wanting to crawl out of her own skin. She could hear him breathing and although he was no longer touching her, she could feel him looking at her.

  “Jessie,” he whispered. It was the first time he’d spoken, but she didn’t recognize his voice. She heard so many men’s voices every day at the bar that they all began to run together after a while. She continued to lie there, quietly, hoping he’d go away so that she could take the cover off her face and figure out where she was and what to do next. “Jessie, I know you’re awake.” Shit. She felt her breathing speed up, automatically. Her vital signs were giving her away no matter how hard she tried. “Jessie!” His voice was still quiet, but it had become more commanding. Doing her best to not let any trace of fear seep into her voice she said:

  “Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?”

  His breathing got faster, and deeper. She shuddered as she realized her fear was exciting him. “You’re so pretty,” he whispered. “Native American girls are the prettiest.”

  She cursed the tremor in her voice as she spoke again. “Please take this hood off, so I can see you.”

  The man laughed. “All in due time, my heart.” She felt the bed or whatever she was lying on shift under his weight as he sat down next to her. A big hand took hold of one of hers and she cringed and tried to pull away. It was an automatic response and she regretted it as soon as he jerked it back, nearly pulling her arm out of her socket. When he took hold of the other hand, she didn’t try to move. She let him bring her wrists together and when he raised them up and said, “Hold them there,” she did as she was told. Seconds later she heard the sound of tape being torn off a roll and her body betrayed her again, convulsing with fear as he wrapped the tape around and around and around her wrists, cutting off the circulation. She felt his weight shift again and it took every ounce of her strength to keep from trying to kick him when he moved to her feet. She lay still and quiet as he bound her ankles, and then she felt him stand up.

  “Please take this off my head. Please, I’ll be quiet, I promise.” She heard him move across the room and she thought he was leaving. Seconds later she heard him coming back, and then the hood was pulled off her face. Gray, fuzzy spots danced in her vision and the big man in the black ski mask looked like the monsters Jessie’s mother used to describe to her when she was a little girl. Her mother’s drug addiction made her paranoid and she had it in her head that they were constantly being watched by men without faces. Jessie had believed it was true for so long that she still couldn’t go to bed at night with a curtain even so much as cracked open, or the television on. Her mother got so bad at one point that she even covered all the mirrors in the house because “the monsters” had begun stalking them there as well. Jessie almost laughed at the memory. It was just her luck that the one vision that would come to life out of her crazy mother’s mind would be this one.

  “What are you going to do to me?”

  The man turned his head sideways. She couldn’t see any of his features other than a pair of dark, empty eyes. She had no idea if he was smiling or scowling. She had no idea if she was about to be raped...or killed. She waited, trying not to hyperventilate as those dark eyes ran down the length of her body and back up to her face. After a long, excruciating silence the man said, “Be good, Jessie. I’ll be back.”

  “Back? No! You can’t leave me here like this, alone. What if I have to go to the bathroom?” She thought she saw his eyes crinkle in a smile then and he said:

  “Then go. Stay quiet...or scream...hell, I don’t care. No one can hear you either way. See you soon, my heart.”

  Jessie watched in horror as he walked away. She finally lost her resolve to stay calm when he reached for the door. That was when she started screaming, begging, then cursing, then begging again. The man didn’t pause as he went out the door and closed it behind him. She thought she heard the lock turn in it and as her screams died down, so did the sound of his retreating footsteps. She was tied up, helpless and alone, and she wasn’t sure what would be worse...if he came back, or if he didn’t.

  16

  Jace saw the strange-looking little wood-and-stone dwelling up ahead. It didn’t look big enough to be a house, but there was a small wooden door and a tiny round chimney that smoke poured out of on top. Rock stopped his bike at the bottom of the small hill the little house sat on and pulled off his helmet. Jace stopped next to him. Rock was looking up the hill at the dwelling as he said, “He’s here.”

  “Where is here?” Jace asked.

  “It’s a sweathouse. Tommy’s grandfather built it a lot of years ago. Tommy’s the only one who still uses this one. I have one behind my house, but Tommy feels closer to his ancestors here, he says.”

  “A sweathouse? So, it’s like a sauna?”

  “In essence,” Rock said. “Our people believe that the first sweathouse was built in celebration of the first people emerging from the underworld. The ceremony is symbolic of going into Mother Earth’s womb...so long story short, we sweat out our impurity and emerge as new.” Rock stepped off the bike and said, “I hope my son is able to leave some of the weight he’s carrying around inside for the elements to deal with. I have a feeling that things are only going to get heavier for him.”

  Rock started walking up the narrow path that led through the desert scrub up to the little sweathouse. Jace followed, stopping when Rock did, just outside the circle of rocks that set up an almost invisible barrier between the sweathouse and the rest of the world. “Tommy,” Rock said, not loud, but obviously loud enough. The door to the sweathouse opened and Tommy appeared in the doorway. He was covered in sweat and naked save for a towel tied around his waist. He didn’t look happy to see his father, but he looked especially unhappy to see Jace. His dark eyes lingered on Jace for several seconds before he turned back to his father and said:

  “This couldn’t wait?”

  “No, it couldn’t.” Rock still didn’t cross the rock barrier and Jace took his cue from him and stayed put. “Tommy, where did you go when you got released from jail?”

  Tommy frowned and then in a sarcastic tone of voice he said, “Here.”

  “You’ve been here all morning?”

  “I walked.”

  “From town?” Jace said. The police station was at least ten miles from where they stood, and at least half of that would have taken Tommy off the main highway and through the desert.

  “Yes,” Tommy said. “I walk every day. What’s going on?” When Jace didn’t answer him, Tommy looked at Rock and said, “What happened now?”

  “Jessie’s missing.”

  Jace watched Tommy’s face, carefully. If the young man had anything to do with Jessie’s disappearance, he was a good actor. First his face showed shock and disbelief, and then anger...and lastly fear. “Missing how?” he asked at last. “Like missing...she just didn’t show up for work...or missing like those girls they found dead and buried?”

  “We don’t know that yet, son,” Rock said, and then he looked at Jace and Jace said:

  “I went by her apartment this morning. I found the door cracked open...and there was blood on the wall just
inside. I called the police and they spent a lot of time inside...”

  “She’s hurt? Was it her blood?”

  “I don’t know, Tommy. They wouldn’t tell me anything.”

  “We have to find out.” He stepped back inside the house and Rock called out to him. It was a full minute later when he emerged wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

  “Tommy,” Rock said, again. Tommy continued to ignore him, sitting down on the ground to put on his boots.

  “Did someone talk to Rob? Did she work last night? Maybe someone followed her home...”

  “Rob didn’t know where she was when I was there this morning,” Jace said.

  Tommy finished lacing his boots and stood up. “We need to find out who she talked to at the bar last night.”

  Jace didn’t want to mention Finn. Tommy would probably find out about that soon enough and it wouldn’t do anything other than cause more problems. “Son, what we need to do is let the police do their job. You’re already on too many of their lists. I’m going to take you home and you’re going to stay there.”

  Tommy scowled at his father. “No. I have to help find Jessie. You don’t understand how I feel about her...”

  “Believe it or not, son, I do. I see a light in your eyes when you talk about her. I’m not too old to remember that feeling, when everything is new. But you can’t help Jessie or anyone if you’re locked up and if you don’t stay away from this, I’m afraid it’s where you’ll end up again, son.”

  “So I just sit at home...and wait?”

  “Sometimes waiting is all we can do, and the best choice. Think son, before you act. Where would you look for her? Do you have any idea where she might be, or who might have taken her?”

  Jace could almost feel Tommy’s angst as he shook his head slowly back and forth. He wouldn’t have believed the day would come that he’d feel sorry for the arrogant young man who made it clear he didn’t want them there, but he did. It was obvious that Tommy had real feelings for Jessie, and now that he’d lain eyes on Tommy and was fairly sure that he hadn’t gotten out of jail and gone and snatched Jessie and stowed her somewhere, not without a car or a bike or something...he needed to talk to Finn.

  * * *

  Jace left father and son where they were and drove back to the house. He was surprised to see a collection of Harleys in front of the small garage when he got there, especially because these particular Harleys had Skulls emblems on them. He was parking his bike when Wolf Lee stepped out of the garage. “Hey,” Jace said, genuinely happy to see his old friend. Wolf took Jace’s hand and gave him a side hug. “This is a surprise.”

  Wolf nodded. “We were headed to Vegas and took a detour.”

  “Nice, what’s up in Vegas?”

  Wolf chuckled and said, “Manson is getting married.”

  “No fucking way!” Manson had to be pushing sixty years old. He was Wolf’s VP and had been his father’s VP before him. Jace didn’t know him well, but he did know the man had never even had an old lady in all the years he’d been with the club.

  Wolf laughed again. “Yep. Turns out he’s been seeing this woman for years.” Wolf cocked an eyebrow and said, “She was married all those years...to a cop.”

  Jace made a face. “Ouch. How’s the cop feel about her and Manson getting together?”

  “He’s not around to say. He dropped dead of a heart attack a few months ago. She’s got two kids and I guess that was why she stayed with him at first, and then he had a stroke about ten years ago and couldn’t work so she stayed to take care of him...and now, she’s finally free.”

  “I’ll be damned,” Jace said. “Is Manson here?” There were four bikes parked next to Wolf’s, which Jace had recognized right off since he was the one that designed the pipes for it.

  “No, we’re meeting them there. The ladies flew out and Manson and a few of the guys are headed out on their bikes. The guys have a big bachelor party planned for him tonight. I imagine it might get a little rough, even by Vegas standards,” he said with a chuckle. Then seriously he said, “I just felt like I needed to check things out here before I went.”

  “Yeah, I’m doing a bang-up job out here. You and Dax are probably regretting giving me this assignment.”

  “Bullshit,” Wolf said. “Your problems out here haven’t had a damned thing to do with you. Maybe we should have checked out this land a little better before we plunked you down here. I’m not here looking for someone’s feet to lay the blame at either way. I’m just here to try to find out what I can do to help you.”

  “At this point, I have no idea.” The sound of truck engines stole their attention. They both looked toward the road to see a line of trucks surrounded by a swirl of dust coming toward them. There was a backhoe in the midst of them as well. “Fuck,” Jace said.

  “What’s all this?”

  “My guess would be the police. They’re going to start tearing up our land, looking for more dead bodies.”

  “Shit,” Wolf said, echoing Jace’s sentiment. They stood quietly and waited for the trucks to roll in and stop. As they did, the guys from inside the garage stepped out and Jace lay eyes on Bruf. That tickle of jealousy...irrational as he knew it was...ran through him again. Bruf smiled and gave him a chin nod. Jace smiled back. He was going to be a fucking adult. It wasn’t Bruf’s fault he looked like fucking Brad Pitt.

  “Mr. Bell.” Detective Tyler stepped out of one of the trucks. He looked at Wolf and raised his eyebrows. “Well, look at that, MC royalty in our midst.” Wolf rolled his eyes and held out his hand.

  “Wolf Lee.”

  Tyler took his hand and shook it. “Ridge Tyler,” the detective said. “And you need no introduction, Mr. Lee.” He glanced at Bruf but then focused his attention back on Wolf as the hairy biker said:

  “As long as you know that at least half of what you’ve heard is bullshit.”

  Tyler laughed. “Maybe, but I did meet your old man once...”

  Wolf laughed then and said, “When it came to Coyote it was all true and then some.”

  Tyler was still smiling when he turned back to Jace and said, “I’m sorry to do this to you, but these guys are going to start digging in a grid that my techs and an FBI techie who’s working with us has mapped out.” He kept glancing at the garage as he was talking.

  “This grid includes the land the garage is on, I assume?”

  “I’m afraid so. We’ll try and do as little damage as possible.”

  “Maybe you and I ought to head into town and see if we can find a space for you to rent short term,” Wolf said. “It looks like you have quite a bit of work coming in already.”

  Jace nodded. He did have a lot of work coming in, but he also had a lot of expense going out. So far, the club wasn’t producing any revenue so what was going out was coming from his own pocket. Luckily, thanks to his late boss Clay and his old man, he had deep ones. He just worried that he would hit the bottom of them before the business picked up. The Skulls had used combined funds from both the Boston and the California chapters to buy the land, so that was another positive. But Jace was paying his small crew, buying new equipment, paying for advertising and all the utilities while still keeping the business in Connecticut running as well. The old man had left Rosie enough money to pay for the home she was in, but she still needed essentials that Jace deposited money for every month. All in all, if not for his own money, the Arizona chapter of the club would be belly up by now, already. He looked around at the trucks the police had brought again and told himself that he could bitch about it all he wanted, but the bottom line was that there was no way around any of it. He was slowly beginning to see why Doc Marshall and Coyote had so many vices. Thank God he had Beck...she was his vice. He glanced at Bruf again. He knew Bruf was happy with Sabrina and their two kids...but it was hard for Jace to imagine ever having Beck and losing her. He was sure he’d never get over it and that’s why he still harbored that tickle of jealousy toward Bruf, he supposed.

  17
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  Jace and Wolf were about to saddle up and head to town when Finn heard Detective Tyler say, “Mr. McGregor, we need to talk.” Finn cursed, silently, and looked toward Jace. He had never really had a father. Granite wasn’t around until he was grown, so he found it almost funny how much he depended on Jace like one. Especially considering Jace was barely old enough to be his older brother. There was something about him, though; it was like he’d already lived for a hundred years, and Finn supposed that was why Dax and Wolf were willing to entrust him with something as important as being president of a new chapter of the Skulls.

  Finn saw Jace say something to Wolf. Wolf glanced at him with those dark eyes of his and Finn could almost see the disappointment in them. These men had all taken big chances and made big changes in their own clubs and their own lives to protect his and his old man’s. He vowed to himself that this would be it...the last time he caused them any problems.

  Finn followed the detective over to the front porch of the house. Before they took a seat, Beck stepped out and said, “What’s going on here?”

  “I just need to speak with Mr. McGregor. Do you mind if we sit here for a few minutes?” Finn saw Beck’s eyes move and he followed her gaze. Wolf was driving out, alone. Jace had stayed behind and was approaching them. Jace winked and nodded at Beck and she gave Tyler a suspicious look, Finn a dirty look, and then stepped off the porch and told Jace:

  “I’m headed into town to pick up lunch. You want anything special?” Jace bent down and said something in Beck’s ear and she laughed. Her blonde curls shone in the sun as she leaned her head back to look up at him and in that deep, sexy voice of hers she said, “Oh you can count on that, Mr. President.” Jace smiled until she walked away and then he stepped up onto the porch. Detective Tyler looked up at him and said:

  “I’d rather talk to Mr. McGregor alone.”

 

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