by Drew Elyse
I shook my head. “Got a guess who they work for, though.”
“That man Russian?” Stone inquired.
“Seein’ as both his boys were…” I let that answer itself.
A heavy silence sat over the brothers gathered outside the room, that being Stone, myself, Tank, and Gauge. The rest of the club was staying back, waiting for their update.
Gauge spoke first. “We thinkin’ retribution?”
Stone looked to me. “The price you negotiated, that include a caveat that we stay clear of their operation?”
Like I’d make a fucking deal like that. “No. Only that them not giving on their asking price would guarantee we wouldn’t.”
Pres nodded as he pinched the bridge of his nose. The whole situation was a mess. The Disciples didn’t have the manpower to take on an organization like Kuznetsov’s alone. Even with backup, we’d be looking at a fuck of a war.
When Stone gave Gauge his answer, he did it strained. “We are rushing into a battle we can’t win. First off, I want to know why the fuck they took her. Odds they knew her connection to us are slim, not with how they seemed interested when she shared that intel. They aren’t above snatching random women, but that’s usually off the street or out of clubs. Breaking into her house is odd. I want to know when they went there, why they picked her.”
“Not thinkin’ they’re gonna offer that shit up,” Tank pointed out.
He wasn’t wrong.
“We need to see what we can find on our own.” He leveled his eyes on me. “Get whatever you can on her and anyone close to her. Search what you can with her info now, then we’ll ask questions to help widen the net once she’s in better shape.”
“Start running it today,” I told him.
“Right,” he replied. “Best go tell the rest of the boys what’s going on.”
Hours later, I had the initial run on Ember on Stone’s desk. The girl was smart. There wasn’t a lot out there beyond the basics and she didn’t post every fucking thing she did online. My gut was leading me to a Daniel Louis I came across. She never listed it as such, but I got the feeling he was a boyfriend recently made ex. He was my next focus, but Stone wanted to wait until Roadrunner had a word with her about the guy.
Officially off duty, I went back to my room to change. When I came out, I was facing off with an unsure looking Ember.
“Hi,” she said before biting her bottom lip. Nervous habit, but I wondered if there were more fun ways to make her sink her teeth in that plump flesh.
I didn’t reply, but nodded my head at her.
“Ummm…” Biting her lip again, she looked down the hall and then back to me. It was then her eyes moved down my body. I’d put on sweats and a white tank. Her teeth sunk deeper into her plump bottom lip as she took in my torso. I shifted to keep myself where I was and her eyes snapped back up to my face.
“Sorry.” The apology was immediate and embarrassed, like it bothered me that she had her eyes on me. “Going to work out?”
I gave her another nod while I watched her struggle to keep her eyes up.
“What do you do?” she asked.
“Box.”
“That’s cool. Dad’s had me in kickboxing since I was a kid,” she offered.
Girl was a talker, it seemed. Whether it was a nervous trait or a general one remained to be seen.
When I didn’t answer, she went on. “I was actually…ugh…looking for him. My dad, that is. He was going to talk to someone, but he hasn’t come back. I’m kind of…um…”
She didn’t finish that thought, but the rumble from her stomach did it for her.
Roadrunner would be in with Stone, going over the info I delivered.
“Take you to him.”
“Really?” she asked with a smile, then went on without needing an answer. “Great. Thanks.”
I turned and started walking to Stone’s office. She followed.
“I wanted to thank you,” she said after a few steps. She caught on that I wasn’t going to speak just to fill inane conversation gaps, so she went right on. “For earlier. For staying with me. I’m…not usually a crier. I just—”
“Messed up shit,” I put in.
“What?”
I looked down at her, but pulled my eyes back quick. “Messed up shit you went through. Kind of shit that would break anyone.”
She cleared her throat before giving a husky, “Yeah.”
“Held it together better than most. Still are. Says a lot.”
She didn’t speak that time, but I felt her eyes on me.
“Gotta say it—whether I’d take the advice myself or not. Find a way to let that shit out. Talk about it, whatever. You need someone, I’d recommend Ash—Sketch’s woman. She’s been through some shit, got to the other side. She’d be good to talk to.”
Might get her off my back too. I didn’t regret opening the door to Ash after that shit went down when we both shot the man who killed her dad, shot Ace, and meant to kill her. She’d been drowning. I had a lifeline to throw, so I did. Still, I could do without the fact that she now seemed bound and determined to fix me or get me to open up.
“Yeah. I’ll…” she hesitated, likely thinking out an answer that would keep her from lying.
I let her off the hook. “Not asking you to make promises. Just keep it in mind. You find you want to talk, she’d be a good choice. That’s all.”
I heard the breath she released at that. Shit, she was tying herself up in knots for no reason. She could have just lied to me. It wouldn’t have mattered.
“Right. I’ll remember that,” she said.
We were outside Stone’s office by that point, so I said nothing else. Instead, I pounded on the door for her. When Roadrunner opened it, I left without a word.
She didn’t need my help anymore and I needed to hit the gym.
Four days I had been at the Disciples’ clubhouse and I slept for a lot of it. Doc said it might take a couple days to get whatever they’d given me out of my system entirely. He said this in a pissed off, grumbly way. Because I’d known the man since I was born, I knew there was more to Doc’s anger than just the very obvious fact that I’d been kidnapped, drugged repeatedly, and sold—as if that all weren’t horrific enough. It was in the way he cut off his tirades mid-stride and switched gears. If I had to guess, I’d say it had to do with what they’d given me or how much of it.
I knew I wouldn’t get an answer on that, so I didn’t ask. They always felt they had to protect me. I was a little preoccupied with feeling like crap from whatever was running amok in my bloodstream anyway.
It took all of two days for me to eat solid food again. My first meal after my awkward encounter with Jager hadn’t gone so well, so I’d been on a diet of broth and Jell-O since. I wasn’t exactly sure which biker got sent to the grocery store for Jell-O and flip flops—since I’d been wandering around barefoot—but I managed to distract and amuse myself for a while wondering.
The one person I knew it wasn’t was Dad. Aside from when he’d gone off to talk to Stone—undoubtedly about me, and certainly not anything I was going to be made privy to—Dad scarcely left my side. He even brought a blow up mattress into the room I’d been given. I’d told him I would be fine, that he could sleep in whatever room was his on a real bed, and it was a good thing he didn’t listen. The first night, I woke up screaming and terrified because I couldn’t remember where I was. Unlike the exhaustion and nausea, the nightmares showed no signs of slowing down any time soon. Part of me wondered if they ever would. I tried not to think about that.
In fact, trying not to think about things was becoming an essential part of my life. Every couple minutes, I would have to turn my mind away from the long list of things I was determined not to think about. Seeing as there was very little for me to do in a biker clubhouse I had not taken the initiative yet to explore at all, this was a tiring effort.
So, on the fourth day, it came time to do some wandering.
Everyone seemed to be giving Dad and I priva
cy, and I appreciated it, but I also hadn’t really met anyone, which made the exploring plan a bit more nerve-racking. I knew Doc, of course. I’d met Stone a couple times over the years, and he’d been in to talk with me and Dad a few times as well. I’d met a guy closer to my age Dad introduced as Slick when he came by to flip the lock around on my door, something I learned he’d done just a few days before so I could be locked in. He’d given me three keys to the lock, promising those were the only copies. He could get in if absolutely necessary—he was a locksmith, after all—but no one else would have access unless I gave it to them. This, I didn’t admit but felt down to my bones, was very comforting.
And last but most definitely not least in my mind, I had met Jager.
Talk about things that made me nervous about exploring the clubhouse.
Actually, talk about things that made me nervous. Period.
Shaking off thoughts of Jager, something I’d done quite a bit the last few days, I ventured down the hall. Dad had left my room about an hour before, saying he needed to check on things in the club’s garage he managed. He’d been absent from it for days. Him going in to work meant I was going to be by myself unless I grew a pair and left my room. So, that’s what I was doing.
I’d showered and dressed with toiletries and clothes Dad told me Cami had gone out to get, which was very sweet. Cami, I knew, was Tank’s daughter. Since Dad liked to keep me up to date with the club even though I’d never been around it, I also knew she married one of the brothers, Gauge. When I’d remarked I would pay her back, since all the clothes still had tags on them, Dad had gone all commanding on me.
“No. I gave her the money for it. You’re my baby girl, I take care of you,” he’d laid down the law. That was my dad. I swore, if I let him, he’d still be taking care of everything for me.
I’d have to thank Cami, though. Not only did she go out of her way, she got me some decent clothing choices to get through the next few days. At the moment, I had on a black tank top and a pair of olive-colored fabric shorts with a reasonably stretchy waistband, which was probably a purposeful choice to ensure they’d fit without me being there to try them on.
As I neared the end of the hall, I hesitated. There were voices, and quite a few of them. It didn’t sound loud and raucous like a party or anything, but I wasn’t sure I wanted meeting everyone to start with a huge group. Still, it was becoming impossible to keep my mind occupied while I sat in a small room with only Dad coming in to keep me company.
At the mouth of the hall, I stopped. There were a handful of people sitting around on the couches and chairs together. Three couples, each pair sitting very snug, and I could see three of the brothers kicked back. One of them was gesturing with a beer in hand and I wasn’t sure exactly what time it was seeing as there was no clock in my room and my phone was probably still on the bedside table in my apartment, but I was certain it was before noon.
“Look, I’m just saying, you fuckers getting balls and chains is the real problem. Ain’t my mouth or anything that comes out of it that’s changed. Certainly not the fine ladies who service those of us smart enough not to get tied down. It’s you,” he said, berating the men with women on their arms.
One woman sitting with her legs pulled across Slick’s lap, shot back, “Ladies? That’s what we’re going to call them now?”
“Hey, now,” the guy with the beer chastised, “no need to be nasty. Nothing wrong with a woman who wants to find a man to get her off, no strings attached. If I remember correctly, that was how you met our boy.”
Clearly choosing to ignore his last words, she said, “No, there’s nothing wrong with that. But the women you guys get to hang around here, clean shit up, and jump the second one of you says the word, are not ladies. They’re club whores.”
“Whatever. Tomato, tomahto.”
I sensed the movement beside me and my head flew to the left. There was another person in the room I hadn’t noticed, Ace. He was here with Jager when I’d…arrived.
Ace was attractive in a cuter way than Jager. I’d guess he was about my age—twenty-four or close to it. He had a leaner build than Jager or Stone, who both were very obviously opposing, but he in no way appeared anything less than formidable. He had a few days’ worth of stubble on a very nicely defined jaw. His brown hair was cropped short from what I could see sticking out at the edges of the slouchy black beanie he had on. I’d only caught a glimpse of him twice in the time I’d been there up to that moment, but he’d had that hat on each time. I wondered if he always wore it.
He had been leaning against the wall a few feet from where I was at the entrance to the hallway, but he pushed off and stepped toward me. I glanced out the corner of my eye and saw the rest of the room had not noticed his movement or my arrival.
“Thinking of turning back?” he asked, his voice low.
“No,” I answered, lacking conviction.
“They all want to meet you. The women in particular. Got a babysitter for all the kids to be here when Roadrunner told them you might be up to it today,” he explained. “Daz is running his mouth like an asshole now, but he’ll cool it if you go over. They’re all wanting to check in on you.”
“They don’t even know me,” I said, though he already knew.
“You’re Roadrunner’s daughter. That’s all that matters. Your old man means a fuck of a lot to everyone here, but particularly to Ash and Cami.”
I knew that was true too. I knew it from the way Dad talked about them, the way he always had, and if I was being really honest, it was something I’d once resented a bit. Dad thought it was best Mom raise me, even when she decided that meant moving away from Oregon and, thereby, the club. He was in no way an absent father despite the distance. Still, I often wished I’d had him every day. Ash and Cami had gotten him in person way more.
I didn’t hold that grudge anymore. In fact, I was glad Dad had them around. He was paternal by nature—or he always had been since I’d been around. Cami and Ash growing up around the club meant he got to put that to use.
Realizing I hadn’t actually answered Ace, I looked at him. He seemed to get that I’d digested what he’d said because he went on, asking, “You want me to walk you over there? Start off the introductions for you?”
If he hadn’t offered, I never would have asked. Since he had, I was absolutely going to take him up on it.
“Please.”
He surprised me by throwing an arm over my shoulders as he led me to the group. Slick and at least one of the other guys turned their eyes our way as soon as we started moving, revealing they knew I’d been there the whole time. They’d just hidden it so I could have a moment without everyone—the women, in particular—cottoning on. It was sweet, and I appreciated it.
Once they’d broken the seal, all eyes started to come my way. The women got to their feet. Slick’s woman was very pregnant and needing a hand up from him. The other guys who had women with them stood after they did. There it was again, me thinking these guys were sweet. The way they were literally at their women’s backs spoke to just how much they cared.
One of the women stepped toward me first. She was a few inches shorter than me, but that wasn’t uncommon since I was five-nine. I was used to being a bit taller than most women I met. She had long, deep brown hair that was wavy in an obviously natural way. She was beautiful and rocking some serious curves. There was no question in my mind why she would turn the head of the seriously hot, but intimidating, guy behind her.
“Hi. I’m Cami,” she introduced herself with a warm smile. Then, she nodded over her shoulder. “And this is Gauge.”
Her obvious excitement to meet me made my smile come easily as I responded, “Hey. I’m Ember.”
She moved right in and gave me a hug. Alrighty then.
As she pulled back, she said, “Sorry. That was probably weird. It just feels like you’re family. Roadrunner is like my uncle. It’s like we’re cousins or something.” I was going to tell her it was fine when her eyes ro
amed over me and she instantly went on. “Oh, it all fits you great! Awesome.”
“Yeah,” I answered, looking down at the clothes myself. “Thanks for getting all of that stuff for me.”
“No problem,” she said with a flick of her hand. “I was happy to do it. Though, it would have helped if Roadrunner gave me a little more than ‘she’s about your size, but taller’ to go on.”
I shook my head. “That sounds like Dad.”
As I said it, I moved my eyes around the group, landing on a cute blonde with curly hair pulled up into a ponytail. Her face had fallen, her eyes growing so sad, it stole my breath. I knew in an instant this was Ash. Her father, Indian, had been Dad’s best friend until he was killed years ago. Dad had never really gotten over the loss. Clearly, she hadn’t either.
Almost as quick as the weight of her loss had settled over her, the seriously gorgeous guy covered in tattoos behind her stepped in tight to her back, wrapping a fully inked forearm around her upper chest and kissing her hair. That would be Sketch, I thought. As soon as he had her in his embrace, the sadness disappeared.
After a second, she gave me a shy smile. “I’m Ash,” she offered.
“Sketch,” her man put in with a nod to me.
“Hi.”
Introductions continued through the group. Slick stepped up, introducing me to Deni, his petite wife—so petite it seemed amazing she could support the size of her pregnant belly—who seemed to be bursting with attitude. Then there were the brothers, Ham, who was a freaking giant, and Daz, the guy with the beer, who was a ridiculously blatant flirt.
Before I knew it, I was settled in with the group, sitting on one of the couches, shooting the breeze with them. No one asked about what had happened and I think I loved them all a little bit for it. I didn’t feel like the freak show, but just like Cami had described me—a part of the family.
“Wait. Seriously?” Deni gawked at me.
“Well, yeah. Dad got me into kickboxing when I was just a kid. I teach it to teenagers and have a self-defense class for women,” I answered.
