by Khloe Wren
“Scout mentioned a reporter hanging around a few weeks back. I’m guessing that happened just before I got put on permanent guard duty.”
“I’ll get Taz on finding the fucking reporter, I’ll reach out to a few people who might know what’s going on. We’ll report in at Silk’s tonight.”
“Thanks, man. See you both then.”
I knew Mac would also get Taz to contact our FBI handler to see if he had any information on this whole thing. I stilled, keeping my phone in my hand when I noticed a big bastard heading for the shop. Something about him had me standing straighter. He wore dark dress pants and a white business shirt. I could see the edge of a tatt above his collar so it wasn’t like he was out of place entering a tattoo shop, but my instincts were flaring. Making the most of his attention being focused on the shop window, I quickly snapped a couple of photos before I pocket my phone. He looked over at me, gave me a chin lift, then entered the store.
Once he was out of my view, I pulled my phone back out and texted the images to Scout.
U no who this is?
Seconds after hitting send, I heard a crash from inside the shop.
“Fuck.”
I rushed inside and headed down the hallway, just in time to see the bastard who’d just entered the place push open the back door with a limp Silk cradled against his chest.
“Stop right there, asshole!”
I pulled my gun and sprinted after him when he didn’t stop. I didn’t have time to shoot before he was behind the door, but it wouldn’t stay that way. The moment I had a clear shot, I intended to take it. I hit the door seconds behind him, shoving it open hard enough it banged loudly against the wall.
“I said stop.”
He was moving fast, which made locking onto him difficult, especially with a handgun. Fuck! I wished Taz were sitting up on the roof with his sniper rifle. He’d nail this bastard in less than a heartbeat. When he leaned over to shove Silk into the back seat of a car, I saw my chance. I aimed and popped off two rounds at the bastard. Both went true and entered his thigh, I saw the blood splatter from the wounds. After firing, I took off for the car. I’d hoped in slowing down the bastard, I’d have time to reach them, but I didn’t work out like I wanted. Before I could reach them, he’d followed Silk into the car and the vehicle fucking took off, tires squealing as it left black marks in its wake.
Knowing I couldn’t run and catch the damn thing, I focused on the license plate, repeating the number over and over in my head as I turned and sprinted back through the shop to my bike. Within minutes, I was on my bike and roaring down the road but I knew I was already too late. I’d broken my promise to keep her safe, not even an hour after making it, and Silk was gone.
With my mind spinning over what the fuck I could do to find her. I pulled over when my phone rang, and answered it without looking at the caller.
“What?”
“Where is that man right now?”
Scout’s voice was harsh and sounded raw.
“No fucking clue. In the time it took me to send you that image, he snatched Silk.”
Scout’s voice was a roar over the line. “What the fuck do you mean he snatched her?”
“I mean I fucking busted him leaving out the back of the shop with Silk out cold in his fucking arms. I put two bullets in the son of a bitch and winged him, but not enough to stop him. Fuck! I’ve been searching town for the car but can’t find the fucking thing.”
I slammed my palm against the fuel tank of my bike, beyond frustrated. I should have gone for a fucking head shot. Silk would have landed heavily onto the road, no doubt getting hurt. And the fallout from killing a man on US soil would have no doubt been fucking epic, but at least she would have been safe.
“You get the plate?”
“Yeah, fucking black Escalade with California plates.” As I told him the plate number, the loud roar of another Harley came up behind me. I twisted around to see Bulldog pull up. “You send Bulldog after me?”
“Nope. He came to see me after a phone call from Silk, then he took off for a ride. Listen, that photo you sent me is of an enforcer for the L.A. mob. I want you at the clubhouse right fucking now. Emergency meeting. Tell Bulldog.”
“Done.”
Shoving my phone away I stepped free from my bike. I had no idea how Bulldog would react to his niece being snatched but I don’t want him damaging my bike if he decides to throw a fucking punch at me.
“Wanna tell me what the fuck’s going on?”
“Scout’s called an emergency meeting, we need to get to the club house now.”
In seconds, Bulldog was off his bike and in my face. “Why aren’t you guarding the shop?”
“Because the mob has Silk and I was trying to chase the bastards down.”
As I predicted, Bulldog took a swing at me, but I blocked his punch and spun his arm up behind him to stop any shit before it got started.
“Do not come at me like that ever again, or I will put you on your ass. I don’t give a fuck who you are.”
“You let them take my girl. I’ll do more than put you on your ass, boy.”
I shoved him away from me and stood in a fighter’s stance, ready to defend myself again.
“I didn’t let them do shit. And the longer you piss around trying to pound on me, the longer those bastards have her. I gave Scout the license plate of the vehicle, so how about we quit this pissing match and go back to the clubhouse? I’d like to know if we have eyes on them leaving town, or if they’re staying local for the moment.”
He pointed straight at me. “You better hope we get her back safely, and soon.”
The rest of his threat when unspoken, but he didn’t need to waste his breath. I’d give my life for Silk, and the fact she was snatched out from under my fucking nose was eating me up. But I pushed it all down. I needed to find and save her first. Then I could worry about dealing with the fallout.
Jumping back on my bike, I revved it hard, then took off after Bulldog, already heading to the clubhouse.
Chapter 5
Eagle
Even distracted with worry for Silk, I still felt a jolt roll through me as I walked into Church for the first time. Normally only patched in members were allowed in this sacred room. I glanced around as others came in and settled into seats. The club insignia was carved into a huge hunk of wood that hung on the back wall. A short table with five seats sat below it. The president, vice president, secretary, treasurer all sat in their seats. The sergeant in arms wasn’t here yet. I sat silently waiting as the rest of the club sat their asses down.
Taz and Mac came in together and sat on either side of me. I looked to Taz first.
“Any news?”
He shook his head. “Not yet, but they’re definitely interested.”
Fuck, I hoped that meant the FBI was going to help us take these bastards down. I knew we were supposed to be the ones helping them out, but I could really use their expertise on this one.
“Mac?”
“Yeah, I got something, but how about I wait five and tell everyone together?”
I wasn’t waiting five minutes. “Go tell Scout you got information. He’ll sort this shit out so we can get started in less than five.”
Mac rose and made his way up to the front, then leaned in to speak with Scout. The president’s eyes narrowed a moment before he nodded. Then he rose and hit his hammer down on the table.
“Everyone, sit down and shut the fuck up. We don’t have time to fuck around today.” He gave the club less than thirty seconds to sit. “Silk’s been taken. Went down less than half hour ago. Eagle was guarding her shop and put a couple bullets in the bastard, but they still got away. Most of you know, Eagle, Taz and Mac were marines, and that’s why, even though they’re still prospects, they’re in on this. Right. Mac? What have you got for us?”
Mac stood in front of the club looking as confident as ever. He stood at six-feet-three, with his clean shaven head, a closely cropped beard, and two half sl
eeve tattoos, he looked like what he was, a deadly fighter you didn’t want to fucking mess with.
“After I heard the mob up in L.A. was sniffing around looking for Silk, I put out some feelers to see if I could figure out why they wanted her. I haven’t found out a whole lot yet since I only started looking into things about an hour ago, but they definitely want her alive and unharmed.”
Before Mac could continue, the door slammed open and Nitro, the sergeant in arms came in behind a woman who looked like she was about to pee herself. He casually led the woman to the front of the room and pulled a spare seat forward and placed it in front of the table facing sideways, so everyone could see her face.
“Sit.”
At Nitro’s growled command, she dropped into the chair without wasting a second. Her wide eyes focusing on Scout.
“Wanna tell us the truth to why you’ve been sniffing around Silk?”
The woman frowned. “Silk is Claudine, yes?”
“Do not fuck with me, woman. You’re a reporter. I’m sure you had that worked out long ago. What did you come after her for?”
Ah, so this was the reporter that set all this shit in motion.
“Like I told your colleague here, I had nothing to do with her being kidnapped. I only wanted to interview her.”
“As a club, we generally stick with a rule of not ever hurting women. But with one of ours gone God knows where, we may rethink that rule if you don’t start fucking telling me something useful right now.”
“I’m trying to explain! Look, with the fifteenth anniversary of 9/11, I wanted to find a new angle to report on. I found it last month. Turns out Claudine’s father’s bag missed his flight. He tried to take it as a carry on, but it was too heavy so they forced him to check it.” She shrugged. “Typically, it missed the flight as they didn’t get it checked and out to the plane in time. It was put in with the next flight’s baggage. In the aftermath of the attacks, no one gave it any attention. It was tossed into the lost baggage room at LAX. I figured doing a story on Claudine getting her father’s personal effects back after all this time would make a good article. Of course, when you wouldn’t let me near her, I had to rethink how I was going to write it. But I managed to come up with something. Clearly, the mob still has people in the media on their payroll because not an hour after I emailed my proposed article to my boss, I had a visitor who told me my life depended on getting Claudine back to L.A., to them. Apparently they really want whatever is in that bag.
“And you knew nothing about them snatching her this afternoon?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t. Not until your man here came and grabbed me. They’ve been calling me daily, and I keep telling them that she’s under your club’s protection and I can’t get anywhere near her.”
Bulldog thumped the table. “Fuck.”
Scout squeezed his VP’s shoulder before turning back to the reporter. “What are you expected to do now?”
“I go back to L.A. and hope I wake up breathing tomorrow morning. I somehow doubt they’ll want any media present when she goes to get that bag.”
I stood and moved to stand near Mac at the front of the room. Scout raised an eyebrow at me before he turned to Nitro and told him to take the reporter back to wherever the hell he’d found her. I waited for her to be out of the room before I spoke.
“That’s the best chance we have to getting her back. At the airport.”
Mac shook his head. “It won’t be that simple. LAX is fucking huge and there’s cops and security all over the damn place. Especially this close to the 9/11 anniversary.”
I frowned. “That’s the only place we know where she’ll be. We need to grab her either before she gets the bag for them, or straight after. If they want her to get this bag, they won’t touch her until they have it. No way will it not raise flags if some woman beat to shit is trying to pick up a bag that’s been sitting there for fifteen years. But there’s no saying what the fuck they’ll do after they have what they want from her.”
Scout frowned at me and Mac for a moment before he turned to Keys, the club secretary who earned his road name thanks to his hobby of hacking into shit.
“You got any video feed on that car? Plate number?”
“It’s owned by a rental company in L.A., and the details on the rental agreement are fake. The vehicle stopped briefly at a pharmacy on the outskirts of town, then headed straight for the highway. They’re not wasting time getting her to L.A.”
“Right, let’s get this shit planned out now, then we move out. Tonight.”
I folded my arms over my chest and focused in on the discussion. I might have failed to prevent Silk from being taken, but I vowed to be the one that saved her. It would be by my fucking hands that made sure the bastard who took her paid dearly for it.
Silk
With a groan I blinked open my eyes and wished I hadn’t bothered. Pushing past the ache in my head and my dry mouth, I rolled over on a lumpy mattress that stunk bad enough I was fighting to not throw up. Needing to get away from the stench, I shuffled toward the edge and sat with my feet on the floor. I was a little surprised to discover I wasn’t tied up, until I glanced around my cell. Bars covered a small window high up the wall. They also filled the doorway. I wasn’t going anywhere. There was a small sink in the corner next to a stainless steel toilet bowl. The full jail experience. Charming.
My lower belly cramped in demand, as though I hadn’t peed in a week. I rose on shaky legs, and stumbled a few steps before my muscles got with the program. Keeping an eye on the door, I used the toilet quickly, then washed my hands and splashed some water on my face before drinking a few mouthfuls from my cupped palms. Thankfully the sink, toilet and water were all clean.
With my dry throat eased and my full bladder relieved, I took in the room once more. Not that I honestly expected to find an escape had magically appeared in the last few minutes, but it would have been nice, and worth a try. With a wince, I made my way back to the mattress. I didn’t want to sit on the cold concrete floor, and my muscles still weren’t working one-hundred percent. Guess they didn’t appreciate having electricity jolted through them. I hoped that if I kept my head up, away from the mattress, the smell wouldn’t be too bad. With that in mind, I sat against the wall, brought my knees up in front of me and rested my head on them, closing my eyes.
Fear crept up my spine as images of what could happen to me filled my mind. A moan slipped free as a shudder racked my body when I heard movement at the doorway. Turning my face, I watched as a different man than one that kidnapped me entered and shut the door behind him with a metallic clunk sound. There went the idea of rushing past him. Not that it would have worked any better this time, than the last time I tried it.
“I’ve brought you some food.”
His Italian accent was heavy, as though he either hadn’t been out of Italy for long, or he spoke his native language enough that his accent had stuck. I suspected the latter was the case. I lifted my head and cocked an eyebrow at him. Like I’d trust it wasn’t drugged or something? Between how empty my stomach was and the headache I was currently sporting, I’d guessed they’d already drugged me at least once, to keep me out longer than the Taser would have on its own.
Sensing my question, he lowered the tray to the end of the bed. “It’s all in sealed packets so you know it’s not been tampered with. We have no desire to hurt you, Claudine.”
“Sorry, but I find that hard to believe after you’ve already had me Tasered and drugged.”
I bit my tongue to stop myself from sassing him any further. I really didn’t want to piss him off but I was scared, and when I was uncomfortable in any way, I tended to lash out.
“I apologize for that. We’d sent a reporter to speak to you about coming to L.A. with her, but that club of yours wouldn’t let her anywhere near you and my patience ran out. Keeping you unconscious was the safest way to bring you to where we needed you to be.”
Lifting my head, I frowned up at him in confu
sion. He was being extremely polite and wasn’t trying to intimidate or threaten me at all.
“I don’t understand why I’m here.”
He glanced at the mattress, curled his lip, then strode over to the door and left for a moment. He returned with a folding chair that he placed across from me before sitting on it.
“My name is Antonio Sabella. Perhaps your father mentioned my family on occasion?”
I shook my head. “I was twelve when he died, still a child. He didn’t tell me anything about what he did for work. In fact, I didn’t even know what his occupation was, let alone what it involved.”
Antonio nodded. “He did lots of things. Mostly illegal. He took something from my family and we require it to be returned. We’d thought it lost in the crash but we’ve recently come to learn his bag missed his flight.”
I stilled. “I’m sorry but that can’t be right. He only ever took a carry-on bag when he flew. I know that much because he used to rant over how often bags got lost or people behind the scenes at the airport went through and took things they shouldn’t.”
He smiled at me. “The reporter who found this information for us was told his bag was too heavy for him to take on board so he was forced to check it in. And as he told you, baggage regularly gets misplaced. As his bag was that day.”
“It’s been fifteen years. Surely it’s been thrown out by now?”
“LAX is a big airport and things get pushed to the side and forgotten about. I assure you, it’s safely stored in the baggage claim room at LAX. Once they worked out what flight it was from, they contacted the media to assist in finding its owner. Normally, they would send it to auction, but some kind soul thought a next of kin would like the bag.”
My eyes stung with emotion. What would be in that bag? I knew Antonio thought it contained something belonging to him, but I wanted to know what else it contained. Seeing those things he took everywhere with him would hurt, but to have those small parts of his life in my possession–it was a temptation I couldn’t resist. I wanted that bag.
