Or rather, I do. He just isn’t alone.
The shock of it takes the wind right out of my sails. For a second, I can’t even form a coherent sentence, let alone process what I’m seeing. First, I snort. Then I laugh. Then all sound whatsoever dries up, and I blink a few times, trying to be sure I’m not staring at some fury-induced delusion.
“…Snake?”
From behind Edward Stonewall’s desk, my fucking VP beams at me. He’s got one hand on the back of Edward’s leather desk chair, the other tangled in his beard, twisting the plaits as a leisurely pace while beneath him, sitting at the desk, Edward sweats. He seems to be doing a lot of that—I can see the sparkle on his forehead and upper lip, dots of moisture that make the bastard look like he’s been afflicted with a bad case of morning dew. Otherwise, though, he looks none the worse for wear. Just… pale.
Meanwhile, Snake looks for all the world like the cat who ate the canary. I can’t figure out what the hell he’s doing here. My first instinct is one that turns my blood to ice: that Edward has found a way to take more than just Piston from me. That he’s taken the MC away, as well—Snake included.
Shit. That would explain the lack of security, wouldn’t it? Who needs rent-a-cops when you’ve got a whole fucking army to back you up?
“Hey there, Bash,” Snake says, his shit-eating grin so wide I’m afraid his face might freeze that way. To Evelyn, he gives a nod. “Eve.”
“What the hell…” she murmurs behind me.
All the adrenaline that coursed through my body mere moments ago leaves me, and my knees go weak. Stunned, I grab the nearest chair and have a seat while Snake gestures to something on Edward’s desk: a crystal decanter full of clear, molten amber.
“Can I get you two a drink?” he asks me. “I’m sure Eddie here would offer, but he’s had a long day, and in all the commotion, I think he’s forgotten his manners.”
Edward says nothing. His hands are clasped over the top of the desk, fingers entwined, as if in prayer. Only he’s clenching them so hard I can see his knuckles have turned even whiter than his face has. He doesn’t look at me, or Evelyn, or even the decanter, just focuses straight ahead like one of those guards at Buckingham Palace.
I stare at Snake, mouth open. Evelyn sits beside me and Snake, in lieu of an answer, produces two tumblers and pours. He scoots one across the desk to me and I reach for it, numb. Knocking it back stirs a fire in my gut, enough that I find my words again, no matter how jumbled.
“How… what…”
Snake laughs, presenting the second glass to Evelyn, who politely declines. He downs it himself with a shrug, then walks around in front of Edward and perches on the edge of the billionaire’s desk, twirling his goddamn beard. “You sure you wanna know, Bash? That’s a long damn story…”
“Give it to me, Snake,” I say, my head reeling. “What the hell is going on here?”
“You didn’t think I’d let you go into this alone, did you?” Snake says, quirking a brow. “Or that the rest of the boys would, either?”
“Honestly, Snake, yeah. I thought exactly that,” I answer, the whiskey bubbling in my blood, bringing some coherence to my words. My eyes come to rest on Edward again, reminding me of just who was responsible for that train of thought. “Ripper…”
“Is an asshole,” Snake finishes for me, that impish grin back on his weathered face. “And he ain’t the voice of the whole damn MC, you know. You got loyalists, through and through. Not everyone’s so damn stupid they can’t see what you’ve done for ‘em. And once I figured out something big was goin’ on behind your back, I convinced them that now was the time that we do something for you.”
“You… you know about Edward Stonewall?” I say, each syllable feeling thick and foreign on my tongue. I glance at Evelyn again. “About what he did to us, I mean. About the company—my company—and the deal?”
“I do now. Eddie here filled me in on the whole story. After a bit of convincing, anyway. I had a few of the guys up here a few minutes ago, helping with that. We didn’t need everyone downstairs taking care of security, after all.”
“Wait, I don’t get it.” I’ve only had one drink, so I’m sure it’s not the booze confusing me. This doesn’t add up. “If you didn’t know about everything before Stonewall here confessed, how’d you get here in the first place?” I narrow my eyes. “I thought you aligned yourself with Ripper.”
Snake shakes his head. “No, I let Ripper assume I was aligned with him. Never once did I pledge any kind of loyalty to that piece of shit. I just knew he had something going on behind the scenes, and you know what they say about catchin’ flies. Honey works better than vinegar.”
“Apparently, so does bullshit.”
Snake grins again. “Exactly. I tried to call you right after Ripper spilled the beans on his plan, but I couldn’t reach you. Then when you came to the club that night, when he wanted you to announce stepping down, I tried to tell you again, but you guys took off before I could like you were going to put out a fire. After that you pretty much disappeared for a few days, so I decided to try and figure out what the fuck was going on for myself. It didn’t take long to get Ripper to admit to where he got the pics. Apparently, E-dawg here contacted Ripper after seeing him with you at the bar, right after you hit him. Guess one rat can sniff out another, since he seemed to sense Ripper wasn’t one of your biggest fans.”
That doesn’t surprise me. It’s rare that I don’t catch Ripper scowling at me openly. He’s never hid his disdain for me or my leadership. Edward could have easily picked up on that, especially if he was desperate to settle the score.
“So, yeah,” Snake continued, “guess the two of them realized they had some similar goals and decided to work together. Only this one here...” He slaps Edward hard on the shoulders now, which still barely causes the man to react. “...knew enough not to give Ripper the full story on you. If he did, there’s no way Ripper would have waited to try and bring you down, and apparently, that wasn’t part of Eddie’s plan—was it? Not unless you didn’t agree to his terms, anyway. Otherwise, he’d lose some of the leverage he had on you.”
I just stare at my VP as the pieces start to fall into place, still stunned at this turn of events. Snake laughs at the face I’m pulling, but there is no malice in his chortle. I’ve had him pegged wrong this whole time.
“Right, so anyway, when I realized Ripper didn’t have the full story, I decided to get it for myself. But first, I rounded up the troops for some backup. We’ve been watching this place for a couple days, trying to figure out the best time to make a move. Luckily, Eddie here let everyone go early a few hours ago, with only a few security guards left downstairs for us to worry about. Guess he was trying to empty the place for a romantic interlude with your ol’ lady here.”
Evelyn makes a gagging noise at the thought of this, and Snake laughs again. The muscle in Edward’s jaw twitches, a tic I’ve never seen in him before. He must be furious.
Snake adds, “As it turns out, I guess we made the right call. I mean, once me and the boys got the full story from moneybags over here, I knew you had your back against the wall, which I also knew meant you’d come out swingin’, and ain’t no way I was gonna let one of our own end up in jail—especially not our goddamn president.”
I can feel Evelyn’s glare boring a hole through my brain. I cast her a sideways glance to see her scrutinizing me. I try to keep my face a slate, but I can tell she’s finally realized what I was planning. Thanks to Snake’s big goddamn mouth.
But how the hell can I be mad at the guy who came all this way to have my back, and who just might have killed two birds with one stone for me?
“I still don’t totally get it,” I admit, handing Snake my glass so he can pour me another drink. “What’s with the silent treatment from Edward, here? What did you all do to him?”
Snake sobers somewhat. “You sure you wanna know?” His gaze flicks to Evelyn. “Might be best to spare you the details. Plausible deniability
, and all that, yeah?”
“At least tell us how it ended,” Evelyn pipes up. She’s just as stunned as I am, but there’s that fire in her eyes, a spark of curiosity that makes them almost glow. When she looks at Edward’s wan face, her lip curls in disgust. I can tell she’s aching for vengeance. “I want to know if we’re going to have to see this bastard again any time soon, and if so, what we’re up against.”
Snake smiles and hands me my second drink. “Oh, I doubt that very much, darlin’. I don’t think you’ll have to worry about seeing old Eddie here ever again. Y’see, he’s changed his mind about those plans of his. He’s moved on to bigger and better things—or at least, he’s on a path that’ll keep him clear of anything you two might wanna embark on, now or in the future.” He winks. “To say anything more would be telling more than you two might wanna know, but rest assured, nothing about what we did here tonight was illegal. Not yet, anyway.” Here, Snake casts a glance at Edward, who acknowledges him with a flick of his beady eyes. “And we won’t, as long as Eddie keeps up his end of the bargain, which means he stays far the fuck away from both our little MC, and Bash’s company.”
Snake chuckles as I shift uncomfortably. “Yes, Bash, we all know what you’re up to now. Goddamn, an MC president and a CEO? When do you sleep, boy? Especially with a woman the likes of Eve.” He shoots an appreciative nod her way.
“Look, Snake,” I begin, but he cuts me off before I can get any further.
“You think too much, you know that, Bash?” he says. “And you worry too damn much, too. I get why you’ve been so secretive. It all makes sense now—or at least, it does to me. You thought we weren’t going to accept you, the real you, on account of how you pursued a legit lifestyle in your off hours—but you still wanted to help us out. That’s the reason for all these new businesses and shit. Trying to keep us out of trouble, while still letting us feel like free men who get to crack skulls and get into mischief every once in a while. I totally get it. But you know what? Cat’s out of the bag now, and nobody else gives one flying fuck, either—at least, not the ones who matter. Well, ‘cept me and the boys are kind of wonderin’ if this means we can get new bikes, but otherwise…”
I sit back in my chair, taking it all in. Never, in any of my projected scenarios, did this one cross my mind as a possibility, let alone a likely one. Snake, who I’d assumed was a traitor, and what sounded like most of the MC, from the tale he told, had had my back when I’d needed them most. The family I’d thought I lost had swooped in to save the day, not only for me, but for Evelyn too. That was crazy enough, but then on top of that, they’d accepted me—both parts of me—like it had never mattered at all.
The room blurs a bit at the edges. This is all so surreal.
“This is over?” I say, first to Snake, and then to Edward. “This is really, actually over? No more bullshit—no more games—you’re going to put a stop to the shit-storm you put in motion, just like that?”
Edward fails to answer me for a long time. For a while, he can’t even meet my gaze. When he does, there’s nothing but hatred in those cold, seething eyes of his. He clears his throat and adjusts his tie, his Adam’s apple bobbing erratically.
“Just like that,” he says, unfolding his hands. Beneath them is a small stack of papers. “I was just in the process of signing the papers before you got here.”
“Son of a bitch,” I mutter. “Finally.”
Edward doesn’t reply. Snake is looking at him, hard, and though he doesn’t bother to acknowledge my VP, I can tell he feels his stare.
Beside me, I hear Evelyn’s soft, lilting laugh, and when I look over, she’s practically radiant. All the tension she’d been holding inside her over the last few days is gone, and there’s a shine to her eyes I haven’t seen before. I think this is what she looks like when she’s really, truly free. And it’s so goddamn beautiful I can’t take my eyes off it.
“I knew it,” she says. There’s such vibrancy in her tone I can almost see it. “I knew one day, I’d get to see you like this—defeated. Ruined. Well, maybe I didn’t know, exactly. But I hoped.” She shakes her head at him. All that anger in her has morphed into something softer. Something more like pity. “You bastard. You only have yourself to blame.”
Yeah, I think, though I don’t say it out loud, I bet he’ll go home tonight and wipe those tears of his with hundred dollar bills.
But there is some truth to Evelyn’s words. I can see it in Edward’s face. Cracks have formed in his armor and in that cold, calculating mask. Beneath it, there is a whisper of regret—probably not because of what he’s done to us, but because he hasn’t won. We’ve taken something precious from him today and struck a real blow. His winning streak is over, and I wonder, had Edward ever lost before? To anyone? Is this the first time in all his life he’s experienced what it means to fail?
“Be a good boy, Eddie, finish signing those papers and then slide them to my friend Bash, here, and his lovely lady,” Snake says, making sure to emphasize the word his. Edward flinches visibly, but then does as he’s told. By the time this is all over, this guy might be downright suicidal.
When he’s done, I take the documents in my hands, and to Snake, I utter a soft, “Thank you.” My VP shrugs.
“Don’t mention it,” he answers. “Except maybe in the context of those new bikes…”
Evelyn smiles. She turns to me and says, “I told you, didn’t I?”
I raise a brow at her. “Told me what? That Snake here was going to swoop in and save the day, and Edward was going to roll over like a mangy dog and hand us everything we wanted, just like that? Because if so, I’m pretty sure I would’ve remembered…”
She grins. “No. But I did tell you that you might have misjudged what their reaction would be to hearing their president also deals in high-grade motorcycle parts.”
I can’t help it. I smile. And though it doesn’t come naturally, I manage to reply, “Yes, baby. You were right.”
I’m betting it’s not the last time I say those words.
EPILOGUE
Evelyn
“Miss Silver, what do you have to say about the reports coming in that Piston, Incorporated is actually run by the leader of an outlaw motorcycle gang?”
I can’t help but smile at that question. It’s one I’ve heard, but never answered, well over a dozen times over the past few weeks, and every single time someone asks it, this little glow starts inside me all anew.
I could tell them the long version of the story, but no one wants to hear that—all the details of Sebastian Redding’s dual lives before he was found out, and the single, even more shocking life he’s managed to lead after. But the press are vultures at heart, and they want the easy prey. They like their meat raw and bloody, and telling them the whole truth might’ve been offering them more than they could chew.
The whole truth was that after Snake and the rest of Bash’s MC had told us what they’d done, Sebastian underwent a complete transformation. The twin personae he’d had to keep up for all these years suddenly merged into the single person he was always meant to be, and Sebastian was able to finally let his guard down. His dreams and goals weren’t mutually exclusive anymore, and he had the freedom to do what he pleased, when he pleased—the media frenzy not withstanding, of course.
Once word got out that Hans was not the true CEO of Piston, and that the actual, formerly secret, CEO was also the president of a motorcycle club, all the networks went nuts. I’m pretty sure that at some point, I even overheard Ben Stein waxing poetic about the turn of events on CNN, but maybe that was just my imagination. Still, everyone seemed to be talking about it, and for a while, I thought this would turn out to be Sebastian’s worst nightmare.
But Sebastian surprised me, and everyone else, by refusing to even acknowledge that anything had changed. Sure, he was relishing the opportunity he had to conduct his business out in the open now, but otherwise, he acted like it was just another Tuesday where he balanced his work at Piston with
his work at the clubhouse, fulfilling both roles as if the cameras weren’t even rolling.
For me, though, it was pure chaos. Maybe Sebastian had come into his own, finally, but I was still new to this whole thing, and in the first few days, I was sure I would get swept up in the endless tide of questions and demands that came roaring my way. If they couldn’t get to Bash, the media reasoned, maybe they could get to me. Sebastian and the club did a fine job of keeping me at arm’s length from the more intrusive elements, but I was still feeling the pressure of this new life I’d fallen into.
I’ll never forget the look on Sebastian’s face that day I rushed into his office, slamming the door behind me and leaning against it, hoping to keep the rabble out. I was panting so hard I was sure I’d bust a button on my blouse, but he just looked up at me from his desk and said, “We’re in this together. All right?” Then his gaze drifted out toward the skyline, though this time, the view made him smile. “We’ll weather the storm.”
“I love you,” I’d said, a breathy reply to the confession he’d made days ago during the would-be assault on Edward Stonewall’s office. I almost thought he wouldn’t reply, that adrenaline had made Sebastian Redding bold at the time, and that now his feelings had waned. But he stood up, came around beside me, and tucked me under his arm as he said:
Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance Page 22
