FILLED: Berserkers MC

by Sophia Gray

  “We shouldn’t be talking about it on the phone.” Logan’s voice seemed hesitant and not particularly happy.

  I shook my head, though of course he couldn’t see that. “I know, but it’s important.”

  There was a pause, then he asked, “What is it?”

  “The man who’s after you—” I almost said Nikolai’s name, but wasn’t sure I wanted to yet. Was that good or bad? “—he’s been here.”

  “What?” Logan’s voice was incredulous and more than a little shocked, though there wasn’t necessarily the anger I’d been expecting. Not that it mattered, I just thought that as his sister, he’d be a little bit more concerned about my safety. Instead, however, he just asked, “You didn’t tell him anything, right? I mean, you didn’t tell him anything about me or that I’d been there, did you?”

  I frowned, but didn’t bother saying he was a bad brother for not being even a little bit concerned about my safety in all of this. Instead, I said, “Of course not! I would never do that. But…he definitely knows I’m your sister. And I don’t know if he knows you were here or not, but he’s come looking.” And looking for other things, but I didn’t mention that. Logan didn’t need to know I had had sex with Nikolai, nor that I was carrying his baby. That seemed like it would cause too many complications.

  He made a strangled, frustrated sound and I imagined him pacing, running his hands through his blond hair. Finally, he cursed and said, “All right. You’re going to have to get out of there. Go into hiding. For your own protection.”

  I softened at that, feeling guilty for assuming he didn’t care about me. He was my brother; of course he cared about my safety. But then I thought about it. “Hiding? Why? Why can’t you just talk this out or go to the police or—”

  Before I could even finish, he jumped on me. “No police!”

  I paused, letting a still silence settle over us. No police. A stone sank low in my gut, whispering to me that Nikolai had been right. Logan did do something bad. But maybe he didn’t kill anyone. Maybe Nikolai was lying and it was only money that he took. I wanted to believe that so bad, but why would Nikolai lie about only one part of it and not the other?

  “Logan, you need to tell me what’s going on.” My voice came out as little more than a tiny whisper, barely even making the trip through the phone to the other end.

  There was a pause, then Logan said, “Okay, I…I’m in a little bit of trouble.”

  “Trouble,” I repeated.

  “Yeah. I did something kind of stupid. Okay, really stupid. But it’ll all work out. I just need a little time and this whole thing will blow over.”

  I had the feeling that wasn’t true. This didn’t seem like the type of thing that would just blow over. In fact, it was beginning to sound like the kind of thing that was going to haunt my family for the rest of our lives. Biting my lip, I forced myself to ask the questions I was dreading. “What happened, Logan? What did you do?”

  “Madeline, don’t worry about it.”

  “Don’t tell me not to worry about it! This is serious! Someone wants you dead! You need to—” But before I could tell my brother just what it was that he needed to do, the line went dead. There was a click and a moment later I heard a dial tone. My brother had just hung up on me, leaving me worried and more confused than ever.

  He’d told me to go into hiding, but I didn’t even know how to start to do something like that! Where would I go? What would I live off of? And what about the baby?

  My gut told me things were wrong. So wrong that I wasn’t sure they could be fixed. I knew that, whatever my brother had done, the only options were going to the police or trying to reason with Nikolai. I thought of Nikolai and his tall, masculine form. Of his bulging muscles and his sharp, piercing eyes. The kind of eyes you could get lost in. He was a solid man and I knew he was the kind of person who was used to getting his way.

  No, reasoning with him about this was out of the question. He had his sights set on Logan, and I didn’t think there was any way to get him to back down now.

  And Logan wouldn’t go to the police. I was left with no options—at least, no good ones. And that wasn’t even including what the hell I was supposed to do about the baby! How could I go on the run while I was pregnant? And when Nikolai found out I’d left, would he come after me? Would he be furious, dangerous even?

  I didn’t think so, but how could I know for sure? He was a hit man and he was after my brother. I could be the collateral damage that he just didn’t care about in the end.

  Exhausted, terrified, and not knowing what to do, I crawled back into bed and put my head down on the pillow. Grabbing the covers, I yanked them up over my head, wishing I could shut the rest of the world out just for a moment.

  What was I going to do?

  Chapter 22

  Nikolai

  My search for Logan wasn’t going so well. I had called Peter already, but he hadn’t seen anything since that night. In fact, he explained that the cops had stopped by and asked all sorts of questions. They’d canvased the place for witnesses, trying to ID the shooter, but no one was talking. That wasn’t a surprise either. Peter had managed to shoo most of the people who were still in the bar when I was about to tag Logan. Those who had lingered—like those women in the bathroom for instance—had been too drunk to really even remember what had happened, much less anything about me.

  I was in the clear as far as the commotion was concerned, but that didn’t really do me any good beyond making sure I could still move freely. But then, that had never been an issue either. I had contacts in the police department who would have made that little problem disappear long before any court date or arraignment was ever set.

  Still, I was grateful that Peter was putting in the time and effort. It made my job easier.

  I was disappointed that he didn’t have more, though.

  “What about the partner?” I asked him as we spoke over the phone. I was back at my apartment, getting showered and dressed—taking care of the hardness that had grown beneath my pants after my little encounter with Madeline—as I spoke to him, trying to dig up some leads.

  He made a sound in his throat, like maybe he didn’t care for all this crap. Really, he probably didn’t. Peter was one of those guys who, while in deep with people like Mickey, really just wanted to be left alone. He dealt with Mickey—and me by extension—because he had to, because this was Mickey’s city, or this section of it was, anyway, and he understood that to do anything successfully, you had to have some connection with Mickey. It wasn’t that Peter disliked the older man, but he just didn’t have a taste for some of the more illicit activities he dealt with.

  And me? Well, we had a complicated relationship in which he acknowledged that what I did was a necessary evil. We were tentative friends, both of us acknowledging that, despite our differences, we enjoyed the basic company of the other.

  “I don’t know what happened to the little shit,” Peter admitted. “He must have slipped out while I was still trying to get people out the door. Then the damn alarm went off.” Peter didn’t sound too pleased with that. “Anyway. By the time I got to that table, no one was sitting at it.”

  That was disappointing. I had really hoped Peter would have something on the partner so I could put more effort into finding him. I thought Mickey might have some info, but all he could say was that they’d allowed Logan to bring in some other guys to help with the work. In the end, those other guys either didn’t show or didn’t hang around for the heist. Only this one man showed up, an accomplice to Logan’s foolish crime. Mickey didn’t have a name yet; I was hoping Peter did.

  “So you don’t have anything?” I tried not to sound annoyed, but I probably did anyway. I hoped vaguely that Peter wouldn’t take it personally. It was easier to deal with people when they weren’t angry with you.

  There was a pause, then Peter said, “Well, I might have something. It’s not a lot, but—”

  “What is it?” Hope grew suddenly in my chest.
All I needed was a name, a number, a fucking car color. Just something to go on.

  “Well, that asshole was flirting with one of my girls.” Peter called all of his waitresses his ‘girls.’ Although maybe it was one of those insulting things for women of this day and age, I could never tell myself, he meant it affectionately. He hired the prettiest damn women he could find, young and flirty, because he wanted the customers to like them. But he wouldn’t let a single finger touch them if they didn’t want it. Peter was fiercely protective to the point where he’d started fights and kicked people out without answer or explanation. I appreciated that about him. “He was a little prick and I warned the girl off, but you know the rules. If they want it, it’s on them.” I could almost hear him shrug.

  “And?” I prompted.

  “Didn’t really think anything of it,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Figured she just wanted a better tip, that she was flirting and he wouldn’t take her seriously anyway, you know? Most of the guys come here knowing that the girls don’t really want them.”

  I nodded impatiently as I grabbed a shirt out of my closet—a black button- down, silky to the touch. He couldn’t see me, for which I was glad. I didn’t want to explain why I was so on edge these days. “What’re you getting at, Pete?”

  “I’m trying to say he slipped her a napkin. She normally doesn’t keep shit like that, but for whatever reason she snuck it in her apron and forgot about it. Pulled it out today before her shift started.”

  “And what was on that napkin?”

  “A name and a number.”

  ***

  That little napkin was a proverbial jackpot. From what I understood from Peter, he’d had to wrestle it away from his girl after the fact. It wasn’t that she probably really wanted it, but rather the fact that he was insisting she give it up that had her so annoyed. Peter was sort of like an overbearing father sometimes to his girls, and every so often they rebelled against him for it.

  He won out, though, and if I had to guess, I would say that he told her a slice of the truth about the guy: he was into some bad shit and he was probably going to die very soon.

  When I got there—because I didn’t just want the napkin, I wanted to talk to the girl, too—I greeted Peter and asked his permission to talk to her. Apparently, her name was Kendall. He was hesitant, but gave the okay. I knew he’d be watching like a hawk, but it didn’t bother me. I wasn’t going to do anything unsavory to the girl; I just wanted answers.

  “You mind if I ask you a few things about the other night?”

  She eyed me suspiciously. “You a cop?”

  I almost laughed at her, but held it back just barely. Instead, I offered a smile that was probably a little wolfish. She shrank back just slightly into her seat. “No, I’m not. Though I am trying to make sure certain…bad guys stay off the streets. Think you can help?”

  She thought about it. “Will I have to testify or something? Do crazy stuff for the police? Get involved?”

  I shook my head. Clearly, Kendall had had some unfortunate dealings with the police before, because she looked pretty nervous at first. At my answer, however, she seemed to relax slightly. “I just want to know what he said to you.”

  “Okay,” she said, still hesitant, but not seeming near as nervous as when I first approached her. “Well, I was their waitress—there were two guys at the table. They were kind of rowdy, celebrating something.”

  “Do you know what?”

  She lifted her petite shoulders in a shrug, pushing her breasts together so they looked like they might pop out of her shirt at any moment. She was cute, if a little young—I’d be surprised if she were actually twenty-one, if I was being honest—and almost reminded me of Madeline. She had an almost wholesome look about her, though it was destroyed by the heavy eyeliner and mascara. “Something about a windfall, you know? Lots of money coming in. That was how that guy was trying to pick me up.”

  “By telling you they were rich?” I prompted.

  She nodded. “Yeah, like I’d believe that. Do I look like I was born yesterday?”

  Not quite, but almost. I didn’t tell her that however. “You didn’t buy it?”

  “No way.” She shook her head. “They looked like total shmucks. Old jeans, dirty shirts. Looked like they were in construction or something. But they had enough to pay, so I made a point to be nice.” She shrugged again.

  “What were their names?”

  “I don’t know about the blond guy—blondes aren’t really my thing—but the brunette said his name was Joshua. I never got a last name.”

  Joshua. Well, it wasn’t a lot to go on, but it was something. I could check it against other people Logan was known to have worked with over the years. Maybe something would come up. And if that number were real, it would be a big help.

  I smiled warmly at the girl. “Thank you, Kendall. That was very helpful.” I got up to leave, then paused, considering her. She did remind me of Madeline. I frowned. “Do yourself a favor, Kendall. If you see that guy again, stay away from him. He’s trouble.”

  She shuddered and I remembered Peter had already told her much the same. Without saying a word of protest, she nodded. I got the napkin with the name and number form Peter, then thanked him and left. Hopefully, I would finally get somewhere with all of this.

  ***

  As it turned out, the number was a bit of a bust. Clearly, this Joshua guy had hoped to take her home that night without the muss and fuss of calling or being called later. Already I didn’t like the guy. Though I never intended to have a permanent relationship, I had also never led a woman on to believe there was a chance for that.

  What about Madeline? I thought before I could stop it.

  I shook my head. I had never meant to do anything along those lines with Madeline. The whole thing had been a bit of a mistake—even though I couldn’t really bring myself to feel regret for it.

  I did get some information about Joshua, though. He had a rap sheet with the police already. Petty things, mostly. Shoplifting, breaking and entering, though nothing with the families at home. There weren’t any violent crimes on there, though there was a pending charge of grand theft auto. I wondered if he’d actually show up for that one. Really, I was surprised he’d made bail at all.

  Unfortunately, the report didn’t give me anything to go on. The address was a phony, the residents of the place never even hearing of a Joshua, and from there the thing dead-ended.

  It was frustrating to say the least.

  I was about to go back to Peter to see if there was something I might have missed, when I got a call from a friend of mine. Sergei worked for Zackary, but he occasionally helped out the other two Wise Guys for the right price. Zackary was generous with his personnel—so long as he liked you. I was lucky; he liked me.

  Sergei was one of those guys who looked squeaky clean from the outside and was probably the dirtiest rat out there if you knew him from the inside. He worked for security companies and had never been arrested for anything in his life. No one had even gone sniffing around him, which was impressive when he happened to be the guy who got a very well protected man killed when Zackary asked him to.

  Today, I was surprised to get a call from him. It was a good surprise, though; I definitely wasn’t complaining.

  “Sergei, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  I heard the grin in Sergei’s voice as he answered, “I heard you’re having a little trouble with a job. Finding someone?”

  I rolled my eyes. Sergei was a good man. I even liked him, but he was cocky and liked to rib me whenever he got the chance. “I’ll find him eventually. I’m still following up on leads.” My pride made me sound like I had some hope of finding Logan, when really, I didn’t have a clue anymore. Just a red truck, a name, and a moronic partner.

  “Oh, really? Well, then I guess you don’t need a GPS trace on that pretty red truck of his, do you?” I could hear the sparkling tone of Sergei’s voice and it might have irritated me, but I was so thrille
d to hear the words that I didn’t care. I wanted this job over with and was getting more and more impatient the longer it dragged out.

  “You’re a genius, Sergei. Genius.”

  “That’s what I’ve been saying for years!” he answered with a laugh.

  “Do you know where it is now?” I asked him, eager to get started, to catch up.

  “Yeah, he’s heading east on the highway right now. Closest thing I can tell around there, given the direction he’s moving, is a small town about two hundred or so miles. Take him about an hour to get there if the speed stays consistent.”

  He rattled off the name of the town and I thanked him. I told him to keep tracking the truck, to let me know if anything changed or if they stopped. Eagerness and excitement raced through me. I was finally close. Logan was within my grasp and I would finally be done with this. After he was taken care of, I could figure out what I was going to do with Madeline. I could work on convincing her that she was mine, that I would be the one to take care of that baby, and when she understood that, she could admit to me and herself that the baby was mine.