Seizing Control

by Kylie Hillman

  “I don’t know. But it’s obvious…” Mik trails off when Dad storms back into the shed.

  He stalks straight past us and pulling his pistol, shoots Stu in the leg.

  “Wake up.”

  Stu comes too, writhing like a turtle stuck in its back in the chair. His situation is almost comical. He stares at my father in pain and bewilderment, breathing hard and struggling not to make any noise.

  “Tell me who you’re with,” Dad demands. Understanding flits over Stu’s face before he composes himself. Poker face intact, he tries to bullshit my irate father.

  “No idea what you’re talking about.”

  Dad shoots him in the other leg. Stu grits his teeth, still not making any noise. Mik shifts me behind him but I peer around his shoulder. I need to know what is going on here.

  “Yes, you fucking do. Now stop being an obtuse cunt and tell me.”

  Dad rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck from side to side, trying to ease some of his tension. I don’t know what he discovered whilst he was gone but a lifetime as his daughter tells me that it's big. And he’s trying really hard to rein in his legendary temper.

  “This is only going to get more painful, every time you don’t fucking answer.”

  At Dad’s gesture, Timber approaches Stu and yanks the chair upright. Digging into his pocket he pulls out a pair of surgical gloves and snaps them on. I look on in sick fascination when he sticks one of his gloved fingers into the bullet wound in Stu’s left leg. Stu whimpers but doesn’t speak. Timber adds an extra finger and applies more pressure. Stu looks as if he’s going to pass out again, sweat rolling down his face and his pallor ghostly white. I can’t watch anymore so I hide my face behind Mik’s back.

  “Bring me my tool bag,” Timber demands.

  Murray, one of the oldest of the Club’s enforcers moves quickly out of the shed. I can feel bile rising in my throat at the mention of Timber’s tool bag. I have always had a vague idea of what he must be capable of in order to be the Sergeant at Arms but to know that I am about to see my usually gentle friend in action is rather disconcerting.

  “Now, I’m going to give you one more chance to talk before I fuck you up so bad only your fucking mother will love you.” Timber’s deep voice rumbles around the shed. “I can tell by your face that my reputation precedes me so you know you’ll be talking anyway. Let’s fucking save some time, hey?”

  Timber must apply more pressure to the wound because Stu squeals.

  “Okay, okay,” he moans. “I’m with the Mavericks of Mayhem.”

  Dad explodes with a barrage of curses and storms towards Stu. Mik pulls me tightly into his side as if threat is imminent and the rest of the brothers look at each other in fury. This is huge!

  “What deal did he make? Do they have my son?” Dad peppers Stu with questions. “What’s your position with them?”

  My head snaps up at Dad’s questions and I can’t help but look to see how Brendan is reacting to all of this. He’s staring intently, his focus solely on me, and I’m sure that if his gag didn’t obscure his face he would be smiling. I curse and move to hit him but Mik grabs me in a bear hug.

  “You need to keep your head, Angel. Let Beast handle this.”

  I struggle against him but he holds tight. My world is falling apart in front of me. Brendan’s previous warning—that what happens now is on my head—reverberates around my brain.

  Kicking Stu to get his attention, Dad points his gun at him as Murray skids to a stop, dropping Timber’s tool bag next to him. Stu starts shaking, whining with fear. Most of the men gathered curl their lips in disgust at his weakness. He’s definitely not as tough as I thought he was back at Brendan's house.

  “I’m just a new patch. I was ordered to snatch and deliver your daughter since I’m ex-army reconnaissance. I don’t know what he paid and I don’t know anything about your son.” Stu tells Dad quickly as Timber starts pulling things from his bag. “After she escaped I was told to take him to his parents so they could get him private medical assistance. That's all I know. I swear. I swear.”

  Stu ends his pleading with a grunt when Dad grabs him around the throat. He slams him into the chair before telling Timber to make sure he’s telling the truth. Stu starts whining as Dad strides away and leaves him in Timber’s torturous hands.

  Dad rips the rag from Brendan's face. His face is red with anger and the large vein in his forehead that is usually a barometer for his temper is visibly pulsing.

  “Where the fuck is Joel?” he yells in Brendan’s face. Brendan smirks mockingly.

  I feel as if I’m going to faint as this whole situation sinks in. Even I know that the Mavericks of Mayhem have issues with the Black Shamrock’s. They tried nearly five years ago to take over the Club’s weed trade and from the little bit of information I've gleaned, the ensuing war got pretty bloody. The Black Shamrock’s stood their ground and there is a truce in place, with the MC holding onto their turf and their trade while the Mavericks were forced to move on to enterprises outside of what the Shamrock’s deal in. In spite of the truce there is still a lot of bad blood between the Club’s.

  Questions start to flow through my mind. Has Brendan hired them? Has he joined them? How would they have Joel when he was in lockdown?

  “Beast, I’ve let you have your fun but I’m in charge now.”

  Dad head-butts Brendan in response to his claim.

  “Tell where my son is or you’re going to end up more fucked up than your friend over there!”

  As if on cue, Stu grunts in pain before squealing. “I don’t know nothing else, I swear!”

  Brendan is quiet for a moment, his head hanging down. His nose looks to be broken and blood is running down his chin. Dad has a hard head. I certainly wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of it. Slowly he raises his head to eyeball my father again.

  “As I said,” he states slowly, as if he is speaking to a mentally compromised person. “I’m in charge now and I have some demands.”

  He looks to where Mik is still holding me to him tightly.

  “Get your hands off her, biker scum.”

  “Fuck you,” Mik barks, not moving a muscle.

  “No, fuck you. Get your filthy hands off her. She’ll be leaving with me shortly and I don't need her smelling like trash. We have an exchange to organize.” Brendan actually laughs before he continues to order everyone around. I wish I could wipe the smug pride off his face. With his bleeding bullet wounds, multitude of bruises, and blood running down his face he doesn’t look like someone in charge, yet we are all hanging on every word that leaves his nasty mouth.

  “My new friends have Joel and will deliver him to you after I let them know that Lainey and I are safe.”

  “Yeah, no fucking chance of that,” Mik answers quickly.

  I close my eyes, unable to continue looking at Brendan’s pleased expression. He knows I’m not going to let Joel get hurt in my place.

  “Timber! Bring him outside,” Dad orders before I can speak up in favour of the exchange.

  I hope like hell Dad has something up his sleeve.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Lainey

  Present Day

  “They’re happy to better any deal he made,” Stu tells the Maverick of Mayhem on the other end of the phone. “Wiz, I have no idea how they found out…”

  Stu doesn’t appear to be getting very far so Dad jerks the phone from his hand and takes over negotiations. Timber drags Stu back into the shed, dumping him inside the door, before coming to stand at Mik's side.

  “Listen here, Wizard. We both know you’re a dirty motherfucker but this shit is crossing the line. We had a fucking truce!”

  I rarely see my father when he is in MC President mode and it’s a reassuring sight at the moment. Considering how he has a propensity to lose his temper at home, I’m quite surprised at how calm and authoritative he’s being at the moment.

  “You see you haven’t just broken our truce, you’ve gone right
off the reservation and fucked with family. Everyone knows family is left out of our dealings. Cardinal rule number one.”

  Dad’s lips tighten to a line as he listens to whatever ‘Wizard’ is saying in response.

  “Yeah, I’m hearing you but the way I see it, we have two ways of fixing this problem you’ve caused. One, you give me my son back and I forget that you were involved in handing my daughter over to her rapist ex. You also forget about the two fuckheads I’m holding. Or two, we declare war right fucking now and you pray for salvation from whatever God you think will protect your fucked up ass when I put every single one of you in the ground for fucking with my kids!”

  Dad motions to Mik to come to him as he listens to the answer to his demands. I try to follow but Kyle grabs my arm and gestures me to stay away.

  “Yeah, take it to your fucking table then. You have thirty bloody minutes before I declare war without you. One hair gets hurt on my boy’s head and you’ll have fucking war on your doorstep anyway.”

  Jabbing the screen of his mobile, Dad pitches it across the yard where thankfully it is caught by the enforcer guarding the gate before it smashes into the ground. He wisely slips it in his pocket.

  “I need you to take my baby girl and head back to the compound. Keep her there,” Dad orders.

  Mik shakes his head. “No. The clubhouse is compromised. They got Joel, I’m not exposing Lainey.”

  “We think Joel fucked off without an escort. They didn’t get to him. The bull headed little fucker handed himself to them on a plate. I spoke to Connor and we think they were aiming to grab Benji after his game but got their hands on Joel first.”

  “Fine, but send Lainey with Timber or Murray.” Mik gestures to them. “I’m staying here. You need me to deal with the fuckers in there.”

  “No. Timber and his boys can clean that shit up. I need you at the Clubhouse working through our contacts. As you pointed out, you are my fucking VP.” He narrows his eyes when he spits out the last word like it tastes bad. “We need an arsenal organized. All chapters are to be called in including New South Wales, and we need anyone with a beef with the fucking Mavericks on our side. This needs to be done ASAP. I can’t leave here so you need to handle that shit. I’ll call you when Wizard gets back to me so we know how this fucking shit is going down. Payback by stealth or declared war. Either fucking way they are gonna pay for touching my kids. They need to learn that they can't fuck with an understanding every Club agreed to abide by without repercussions.”

  Dad gestures everyone in close and calls an impromptu vote on what he has directed Mik to do and his desire for payback. Everyone assents straight away; the Emerald chapter pledging their support in any way it is needed.

  I can tell Mik doesn’t want to go but he knows as VP that he needs to be organizing what the MC needs. I think his biggest objection is that he doesn’t get to finish Brendan. I run the plan over in my head. It makes sense except for one glaring detail.

  “What if they don’t vote to give Joel back?” I ask the question that’s buzzing around my head. “I should stay in case you need to exchange, Dad.”

  A loud murmur of dissent grows through the assembled men.

  “Not gonna happen, baby girl. It’s fucked but this ends now. I’d rather Joel in their hands than you. Joel’s collateral. You’re the mark so your safety takes priority. It’s a call we all know your brother would agree with as well.”

  The murmuring turns into agreement and Mik shoots me a poisonous glare when he sees I’m going to continue to argue.

  “No, I can’t let him take my place, Dad. It's my fault he's there!”

  “Get ready to head out, Madelaine Alanah Rose. You do what I say when I say it. I'm not having a fucking negotiation with your stubborn ass.”

  I’m startled into silence by my father’s use of my given names. I can't remember the last time he called me by them. Mik wraps his arm around my waist and tries to lead me to his bike. I dig in my feet and refuse to move.

  Wracking my mind for a reason to delay, I demand the one thing that I know will bring everything to a screeching halt.

  “I won't go with Mik until you explain to me what he has to do with Benji's drug addiction.”

  Mik’s body goes stiff next to mine and he takes a step away from me. I deliberately keep my eyes from his because I can feel his gaze burning me, seeking answers as to why I would cause this scene. I don't really want to do this now but I need to know which way the Mavericks vote.

  If the vote is bad, then I need to talk someone into letting me go with Brendan in exchange for Joel. I'm not letting my brother get hurt in my place.

  “I didn't want to get into this shit here, but you do have a right to know before I force you to go with him.”

  My Dad beckons me to him, wrapping his arm protectively around my shoulder as we face Mik. My stomach drops when I see the sorrowful expression on his face. He stands tall, arms crossed over his broad chest with his gaze firmly on me. He looks to be telepathically pleading with me for understanding.

  I’m thrown by this turn of events because I've always been sure that my issues would be the cause of our relationship ending, God forbid, we ever ended up heading down that path. It never, ever crossed my mind that Mik might have a skeleton in his closet that could rip us apart. He’s usually an open book with me.

  The configuration of our group has left Mik facing off against his Club with only Kyle and Timber standing tall beside him. Their stern expressions are a dead giveaway that they both already know what I am about to learn. It appears like all three have been lying to me.

  “I received one of those bloody USB things in the compounds letterbox this morning. It wasn't posted. It had just been dropped through the slot in an envelope,” Dad begins, speaking loudly so everyone can hear. His words remind me of the USB that I found in our mailbox before I was grabbed the day before. I had forgotten about it until now. Turning in Dad’s arms, I attempt to tell him. The quelling look he shoots at me, forces me to table my confession until I can get a word in.

  “I got Kid to show me what was on it.” He motions at Kyle, who looks sheepishly at the group but avoids my eyes. It sinks in that Kyle has known the full story of what happened to me for a long time. Hmmm, another lie.

  “It had fucking videos and photos of my son and his friends on drugs, using all kinds of shit. Benji was fucking bragging about hooking them all up with fucking cheap source.”

  I stare at Kyle, willing him to meet my eyes with only the intensity of my gaze and confirm that he was one of these friends. He must feel the heat of my glare as he quickly glances at me, guilt and fear shining brightly in his eyes. Mik is still staring intently at me as well but I can't bring myself to look him in the eye. I’m holding out hope that this isn't heading where I think it is and I know one look at him will tell me everything I need to know. I want to hold on to my ignorant bliss for a few more moments.

  “Benji boasts in a few of the fucking videos that Mad Dog hooked him up with his fucking dealer. He thought it was fucking funny that he was still able to score drugs and keep it from me, that he’d found a way to score even after I’d fucked up the cockheads he was buying weed from. It was apparently a gigantic fucking joke that my own fucking godson was the person to hook my son up,” Dad finishes, chest heaving and his hands balled into fists. Throughout his entire speech he kept his voice loud but in control and the effort to do so had cost him dearly. His entire demeanour screams ‘betrayed’ loud and clear.

  “I told you before, that's not how it happened…” Kyle tries to defend himself and Mik.

  “I don't want to fucking hear from you,” Dad interjects, cutting off Kyle.

  “What do you have to say?” Dad eyeballs Mik with borderline hatred.

  Mik ignores his daggers, continuing to stare at me. “What do you want me to say? I hooked him up.”

  His calm admission forces me to meet his eyes in shock. Even after listening to Dad, my heart was still holding out hope
that this was a huge misunderstanding. Angry mutterings begin within the assembled bikers.

  “But I only hooked him up with grass. Never crystal meth.” Mik’s eyes plead with me to believe him. “I never realized until I went searching for his dealer that the mate I introduced him to was dealing that shit as well.”

  He hasn't looked at anyone else, he’s speaking only to me. “I swear, Angel. When you were in the hospital, I went to put a stop to Benji’s using but I couldn't work out who his dealer was. He wouldn't tell me so I beat it out of Kyle.”

  I glance at Kyle and he nods. Poor Kyle, it wouldn't have been a pleasant experience choosing between his loyalty to Benji and feeling Mik's fists.

  “I knew Benji was smoking grass but I always checked in with my mate to make sure he wasn't smoking too much. He told me that he only purchased small amounts every now and then. I didn't know about anything else until after you were hurt. I had no idea Benji was addicted. I didn't even know he was using. I fucking swear on my mother’s grave that I didn’t!”

  My hands are shaking and my pulse is pounding in my ears. I shake my head to clear the thoughts spinning crazily within my skull. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to think. My mind keeps coming back to two thoughts.

  Mik told Benji where to get drugs.

  Mik is—for all intents and purposes—to blame for what happened to me.

  He practically loaded the gun that Brendan used to threaten me.

  “Lainey, look at me. Please!”

  Mik advances on me and I hold my hands up as if to ward him off. He stops one small step away from me. Part of me wants him to keep coming since his arms always make my problems seem smaller but another, much bigger part wants to break his arms if he dares to touch me.

  “I took care of him. He’s fucking gone. I wanted to tell you but you were hurt so bad. I thought you were going to die. Afterwards it just never seemed to be the right time.”