Buying My Bride: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance (Wild Aces MC)

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Buying My Bride: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance (Wild Aces MC) Page 66

by Zoey Parker


  “But why would she have called and risked us finding out the truth if she were just trying to lure us into a trap?” I asked in response.

  “She’s risking a lot simply by answering the phone in the first place. If she is setting us up, she’s risking us finding out. If she’s not, she’s risking her father finding out she’s working with us on this,” I continued to argue. “Frankly, I’m sure she’s not setting us up. She answered that phone so we could try to listen in on the conversation, James. She’s trying to get her dad to admit that he’s taking mob money, that he’s building these office parks for their shell companies.”

  “I hope you’re right, because you’re the one who’s going to be leading us into this mess,” he reminded me. “That phone call doesn’t tell me anything, though. You said it yourself: she hasn’t been answering your calls all day. Now she answers so you can try to listen to a conversation?” He shook his head. “Something’s not right.”

  He was right about that. Something wasn’t right. I could feel it. Someone was being set up, but it wasn’t the MC, regardless of what Shift and James thought. Kelly had apparently ambushed Maria by waiting for her at home. I had suspected as much when she didn’t call back right away after leaving the jobsite. It was only a few minutes from her home. Without being ambushed by her dad, she should have been able to call me almost right away.

  Then, the phone went quiet. I tapped the screen to make sure the call was still connected. It was, and I could still hear some of the background noise from the other end. They had stopped talking. Goosebumps raised on my arms and neck. It was the calm before the storm. Every fiber of my being screamed Danger!

  “Get everyone ready,” I urged James.

  “They are ready,” he said.

  “No, I mean, ready ready. They gotta be ready to roll when I give the word.” I held the phone out to him. “It’s quiet. The shit’s about to go down.”

  He looked at me like I had lost my marbles. I couldn’t explain why I felt the way I did, but the silence on the other end of the line was alarming.

  “Just humor me. Something tells me we’re about to ride out. Make sure they’re ready to go,” I told him again, mustering up the most commanding tone I could.

  “Rookie,” he muttered as he walked out of the room, shaking his head.

  I held the phone up to my ear and listened to the background noises for any clue as to what was really going down. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine the room they were in. I suspected they were in the dining room or the living room. Both would have been great for sitting, but I hadn’t heard anything to really discern one from the other since she hadn’t put me on speakerphone.

  It had been best that she hadn’t. I had started trying to talk when she answered. I didn’t hear them talking right away. It was only after a few minutes that it became clear I was listening to them instead of talking to her. It would have been nice if this conversation could have been planned.

  I heard the motorcycles fire up outside the clubhouse as the guys got ready to go. I took the phone off speaker since no one else was listening with me, and I put it up to my ear. I could hear someone moving around in the room, but no one was talking.

  A moment later, her father’s voice returned. I listened as closely as I could to try to make out what he was saying. He spoke calmly at first, almost cordially. He sounded happy. Even when they were talking before, when I could barely hear him, he had sounded angry with her. I wondered what had changed.

  “I poured you a glass anyway,” he said.

  “Champagne! What’s the occasion?” she asked.

  “We’re celebrating.” His tone was markedly different from what it had been when he’d left the room. I assumed the reason he’d stopped talking was because he left the room.

  I couldn’t have been sure of what I was hearing, but the idea that they were celebrating chilled me to the bone. Maybe James and Shift had been right to doubt her sincerity. Maybe we were being set up. Maybe they were celebrating the fall of The Twisted Ghosts.

  “What are we celebrating?” By that point I was guessing what I was hearing based on the tone of their voices. Maria sounded very cautious, almost suspicious of her father. There was a possibility I hadn’t been wrong after all. I furrowed my brow and shook my head, ashamed that I had allowed anyone to put doubt in my mind for even a moment.

  “Something I’ve been trying to decide on for months has finally been decided for me,” her father said. He was leading her on, stalling, drawing out what he was about to tell her. She was in trouble. Big fucking trouble.

  I wondered what had changed, because it was easier to hear them now. Either she had put me on speaker or they had changed their positions in relation to the phone itself. Whatever they had done, I could hear them almost perfectly.

  “What have you been trying to decide?” Maria sounded like she’d been backed into a corner.

  “I’ve been trying to decide how to handle your relationship with that biker and your defiance towards me. Anyway, our talk today has helped me come to a conclusion.” He chuckled with self-satisfaction. “Actually, dear, if I were being honest, I decided what I was going to do the day you ran off with him.”

  “But I didn’t run off with him. You know that,” she said timidly, as if suddenly trying to defend herself against his accusations.

  She really hadn’t run off with me, not at first. Once again, I found my botched attempt at kidnapping her coming back up. Her father was the only other person who knew how that whole thing was originally supposed to go down.

  He laughed again, but it was stopped short. I heard something touch the phone on the other end. Then, I heard the sound of one of buttons being pressed on it, and I imagined he was turning on the screen, possibly even putting it on speakerphone so I could hear him better.

  When he spoke again, his voice came through loud and clear. We’d been found out.

  “You know, Maria, that’s an odd place to put your phone, right on top of your bag, completely out in the open.” Then, addressing me, he said, “Brawn, I don’t know how much you heard of the conversation, seeing as my painfully amateur daughter didn’t even put you on speakerphone, but there’s no need to worry. She’s not taking over my company. She’s not going to be working with people who would like to see your MC dismantled and put out of business, so if you’d like to hang up now, that’s fine. Everything has been resolved.”

  I froze when I heard his voice. Part of me wanted to take the phone off mute and give him a piece of my mind, but it wasn’t worth it. Anything I said to him would just put her in more danger.

  He sighed. “There is some bad news, though, and you don’t have to respond. I understand, you’ve got your pride on the line here. Anyway, like I said, there is bad news.” Then, his tone hardened again as he continued. “You still won’t be seeing her anymore. I’ll make damn sure of that.”

  The line was disconnected.

  “Fuck,” I said aloud as I pocketed my phone and hurried out to where James had assembled a handful of my brothers to ride out and confront Lucas Kelly. They sat on their bikes, engines purring, ready to go.

  I passed Shift on my way outside. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back. He had a concerned look in his eye, but he definitely seemed to have sobered up from the last time we talked. “You be careful,” he said.

  “You’re not coming with me?” I asked.

  “I wasn’t planning on it. This one’s yours, little brother. You don’t need to ride in my shadow today,” he said.

  “All right, be ready, though. Don’t be surprised if we end up calling for backup,” I told him as I turned to walk away toward my bike.

  I hopped on and fired up the engine, listening to her roar to life. I looked over at the guys lined up, waiting on my signal. James joined Shift in the open bay door.

  Nothing made me feel more like a child than having them watching over me. I turned my attention back to the guys riding with me. I nodded as drove out of our parking
lot and onto the road. We were only a few minutes out from her dad’s house. There was no way he had the upper hand on us.

  I knew very well that we were driving into a fight, and the guys behind me knew that, as well. We doubled up on the road, riding two-by-two on our way out. James hadn’t been lying when he said he was going to put me in the lead on this one, and once we were away from the clubhouse, I truly felt like I was in charge.

  I was doing something on my own, but I was also doing something that involved the MC. I was starting to understand where my place was in The Twisted Ghosts. I didn’t belong among the ranks of the lower members. I belonged up at the top with my brother, Mark, James, and Shank. I belonged in a position where I could call the shots. That was the only way I was ever going to fit in with the other guys.

  The sound of the bikes behind me was music to my ears as we rode out along the downtown streets, heading outside the main grid to the neighborhood where the Kellys lived. I understood the appeal now. I felt the power that drove some of the old timers to do the things they did, to make the sacrifices they’d made in the name of their MCs.

  Chapter 29

  Maria

  “What kind of shit was that?” my father growled in my face after he hung up on Brawn. “Do you really think his puny little motorcycle club can take me down? One phone call, Maria.” He shoved a finger in my face, my phone still in his hand. “One phone call is all it will take to end him. Do you understand?”

  I took a step back from him and downed the champagne he’d given me. I might not have been in the same celebratory mood my father was in, but I needed the liquid courage to deal with him. I put the glass down on the coffee table and thought about what to say in response to him, but there wasn’t anything that hadn’t already been said, and I certainly didn’t see any point in continuing the fight with him now.

  “He’s probably on his way now, huh?” he asked when I looked back up. He laughed to himself. “He probably has a few of his biker friends riding with him. He probably thinks he’s going to rush in and save his girlfriend at the last minute. He probably thinks he’s some knight in leather armor, coming to rescue a damsel in distress or something.”

  He shook his head as he laughed again, harshly this time. He slid my phone into the inside pocket of his jacket and patted it, smiling his smug little smile and laughing his smug little laugh the whole time. He was so sure of himself, sure no one was going to challenge him, sure nothing could be done to stop him. I couldn’t take his arrogance anymore.

  “You know what? I did some research on your boy Carlisle. The Twisted Ghosts helped put him behind bars a while back. They helped shut down his gambling ring and everything. It was even acknowledged publicly that they were the good guys. But that’s beside the point.”

  I stepped closer to him again. This time, it was my finger getting pointed in someone’s face.

  “The point is you love talking like you’re some kind of big shot, like you’re untouchable, but you’re working with a third-rate joke like Carlisle. The guys on the street laugh when they hear his name, and you act like your relationship with him makes you somebody.” I laughed scornfully. “Please tell me you’ve got something better to work with.”

  Then he said something that filled my bones with ice. “Carlisle came to me. He needs me to make him. Not the other way around. I’m in deeper than you could ever imagine. You think this house, my car, your education came from shooting craps with little small-time wannabes like Carlisle?”

  He nodded and licked his lips, producing a thick cigar from under his jacket. I’d never known him to smoke, and I’d certainly never smelled it on him. Had my father been hiding his other life the whole time? He turned and started to walk away as he lit his cigar and took a couple of puffs.

  Suddenly, hands were on me and a bag or something was being shoved over my head.

  “What the…What’s going on?” I cried out, trying to pull my wrists free from whoever had them.

  I heard the men grabbing me grunt as they struggled to pull my arms behind my back.

  “Don’t take too long struggling with her,” my father warned. “Her boyfriend and his biker friends are on the way.”

  My hands were fastened behind my back with zip ties. Meanwhile, I felt something being wrapped around my ankles. I couldn’t struggle against their hands, so I started shouting. A hand quickly went over my mouth, and I heard the distinct tearing sound of someone pulling a length of duct tape off the roll. The hand was removed as the tape was placed across my face, forcing some of the fabric of the bag into my mouth. It felt like thick, heavy cotton.

  “You need to calm down,” my father said. “You’re only able to breathe through your nose, and that can’t be easy with the bag over your face.” I couldn’t tell if he was mocking me or genuinely looking out for my safety

  “They’re coming,” someone else said, and there were hands on my arms, lifting me from the floor and carrying me through the house. I couldn’t tell where we were, just that it felt like we were heading outside.

  Once outside, I heard footsteps rushing me across the lawn. A car door opened, and I was being shoved into the backseat. I heard several other people getting in. All the while, I could hear the rumble of motorcycle engines getting closer. Brawn was on his way, and he was bringing other members of The Twisted Ghosts with him.

  I tried to smile under the bag and tape. My heart pumped harder, telling me to fight and try to stall a little longer. I was proud of Brawn for taking advantage of who and what he was. He didn’t have to do anything alone, no matter how independent he wanted to be.

  The car was already running when we got in, and soon we were moving. I couldn’t tell which direction we were driving in. I felt the turns, but with the bag covering my eyes, I quickly became disoriented.

  “I’m going to take the tape off now that we’re in the car. Remember, no one who can help you can hear you in here, so there is no reason for you to start screaming and all of that again, okay?” The voice was my father’s. “Nod if you understand me.”

  I nodded. I felt pressure as he grabbed part of the tape with his thick fingers and started to unwrap it from my head. I’d been breathing carefully through my nose, but air suddenly rushed into my mouth as the pressure on my face was relieved. “Thank you,” I said quietly.

  “You’re welcome. I’ve still got a few things to tell you before we get where we’re going. There are a few reasons I wanted to celebrate earlier,” he said, his weight shifting on the seat as if he were trying to get comfortable. It was aggravating, trying to figure out what was going on without being able to see.

  “Boss, they’re following us,” a voice said from the front of the car.

  “Then lose them. What do I pay you for?” my father asked impatiently.

  The car jerked to one side, sending me into the door.

  “Didn’t you assholes put the seatbelt on her? Jesus Christ,” my father snapped, pulling me back upright in the backseat. He pulled the seatbelt across me and fastened it. “Sorry about that. Can’t have you banging around too much in here. You might damage something.”

  His whole demeanor had changed once we got in the car. The anger wasn’t gone, but it had cooled. He wasn’t even talking the way he did at work. He’d always been a hard-ass on everyone at his jobsites. In the car, he was making jokes. He seemed almost like another person altogether. I wondered if this was the person his mob associates knew him as.

  “Well, as I was saying, there are a few reasons for me to celebrate tonight. First, after tonight, I don’t have to worry about you fucking up my business. I’ve decided I’m not going to give it over to you anyway. I’ll find someone else to run it, but I’ve been working on that for a while.”

  “Yeah, I heard you tell Brawn that,” I said in a low voice.

  “That’s right. Next, I can finally stop worrying about you altogether. You are no longer my responsibility. I can come clean about a secret your mother and I have been hiding fro
m you your whole life,” he said in a proud, almost exultant tone.

  I took a shaky breath. This “secret” of theirs didn’t sound good at all, didn’t sound like anything I wanted to hear. I tried to calm my nerves, but it felt like my whole body was shivering in anticipation of what was sure to be more bad news.

  “I am not your father,” he said plainly, as if it were nothing. “You are not my daughter.”

  I furrowed my brow and tilted my head, trying to withstand the blow I’d just been dealt. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Like, what the hell do you even mean?” It made no sense to me. He had to be pulling my leg or trying to mess with me, to see what I would believe or how much I could take before he broke me down.

 

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