by Parker, Kara
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.
Whispered Truths copyright @ 2015 by Kara Parker. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.
Part 2 of God’s Reapers MC trilogy
CHAPTER ONE
Just drive. For so long that had been David Creely’s solution to everything. Life got too complicated, or money got too tight—just drive. He would put on his boots and jacket, get on his bike, and just drive. Sometimes he never came back. He could still remember the girl he had met in Columbus, Ohio. She had been a bored secretary who had taken a liking to him. She lived in a cookie-cutter condo, the furniture and décor had come with the place, and she had never changed it in any way. She had so little personality it was scary, but she had been terribly lonely and so David had spent a week eating her food and sharing her bed—until he got up one day for a drive and never came back.
But he couldn’t do that anymore. When he had joined God’s Reapers, he had taken an oath of loyalty to the club. He was a member for life and that worked both ways. The club couldn’t leave him, and he couldn’t leave it—even if three quarters of the members were currently sitting in a holding cell at the precinct.
“GTG,” the text had read. It stood for Go to Ground. It was their version of an SOS or a red alert. The text had come in seven hours ago, and David hadn’t stopped driving since it had come in. It meant the cops were there; it meant that people were looking for them. There were several safe houses, but there was no way of knowing which ones the cops knew about. So, for the moment, David was just driving. Driving out into the desert—as far as his gas tank would take him.
The warehouse on Marigold had been raided, as well. Despite all of David’s best efforts, they had found out about it. No doubt they had easily made their way from the fake reception area, past the fake warehouse, and into the real warehouse where the real business happened. It was over for the Reapers; they had been caught with enough illegal drugs to warrant federal charges. Any Reapers that the cops arrested were going to go away for a long time.
He had driven around the town, to the next town over, and into the desert, but he had always circled back, waiting for the AC text—all clear. It finally came when David was two hours into the desert with no real direction in mind. “AC,” the text said. It mean that whatever had gone down was over now, and they were free to pop their heads up out of the sand and see who was left.
“X” was the next message. This was the code for the safe house on the outskirts of town. It was a ramshackle shed that had belonged to a member who died with no heirs. He had left the house to the club, and they used it anytime they needed to not be seen. There was no way to know if this was a real message or a trap set by the cops. The text itself had come through on an unknown number, but that part wasn’t so strange since almost all of the members used burner phones. It could be anyone.
David stopped in the middle of the road. There was nothing but desert and rock outcroppings in every direction. He didn’t have to go back; he could just drive. Just keep going, leave this place behind like he had left behind so many. But Marina’s Crest was his home. He could leave, but he could never stay away.
If only Olivia Waters wasn’t in Marina’s Crest. If only he had never met her, never slept with her, never allowed her into his life, never trusted her. She had ratted on the club. David had no proof of this, but it was the only thing that made sense. She must have done it; she was the only cop to have any interaction with God’s Reapers. He didn’t know how she had figured out the warehouse on Marigold Street was where the drugs were stored. Someone must have said something, Hillary maybe. Or maybe Olivia had just figured it out. She was smart; he had to give her that.
As he turned his bike and headed towards the safe house, David thought about Olivia, how she had tricked and used him. They had slept together, and he had foolishly thought that it had meant something, that they had a connection, but clearly they didn’t. He couldn’t understand how she could betray him like that, especially after the night they had spent together. It had been the best sex of David’s life, and she had turned around the next day and destroyed him. If it were up to Olivia Waters, David would be wearing a prison jumpsuit right now, too. It was pure luck that he hadn’t been at the warehouse when the hit happened. They had a sighting on Paul, the junkie who had beat up Joey, and David had gone to investigate. Twenty minutes after he left, the cops showed up. He knew how that would look to the other members.
David took the long way to the house. He knew there was a bluff that overlooked the area, and he rode his bike up it and looked down at the house. He was looking for cop cars or vans or anything that might tip off that this was a trap, but he didn’t see anything suspicious. There were a handful of bikes outside, but that was it. After waiting half an hour, he finally drove his bike down the long lane. He parked his bike outside and walked up to the front door, surprised that no one had greeted him yet.
“Traitor!” someone yelled, as David opened the door. The wind was knocked out of him, as someone punched him right in the gut. He doubled over and gasped for breath, unsure of what was happening. He felt hands grab both of his arms. David tried to free himself, but the hands on him were strong, and it didn’t take long for them to have him trapped.
“Hey, what are you doing!?” David demanded, and he was answered with a solid punch that landed right in the center of his face. He heard a sickening crunch, and then pain exploded in his head as his nose began to bleed, the blood dripping into his mouth. David spit the blood to the side and looked up to see who had hit him.
“What’s the deal, Angel?” he demanded. Angel was a full-fledged member of God’s Reapers. David had always considered him a friend, but clearly something had changed.
“You told the fucking pigs,” Angel spit.
“No, I didn’t,” David yelled, a hint of panic in his voice. He struggled against the men holding his arms, but they just held on even tighter. “I didn’t tell the cops; I swear I didn’t. Do you think I would have come here if I did?”
“Maybe you’re working with them right now. Maybe they’re just sitting on the other side of the bluff, waiting for your signal.”
“Well, they’re not doing a good job, seeing as how I’m getting the shit beat of me for no reason. I didn’t tell the cops.” Angel shook his head and reared back, David tried to avoid the punch as best he could, but it landed right below his left eye. He saw stars, as pain on top of pain pulsed through him. The next hit from Angel landed right on David’s ribs. Again there was that sickening crunch, and David wondered how many bones had been broken in such a short amount of time.
“Enough,” a stern voice said. David managed to lift his head, and he saw Mike and Rick standing a few feet away from him.
“Thank God,” David whispered. Mike had gotten away, that was what mattered. They still had their leader; everything would be ok. David watched as Mike walked toward him, surprisingly lithe for such a big man.
“David,” he said. But he gave no order for the men who were holding him to let him go. Instead, Mike brought his right hand up and backhanded David across the face. David’s head jerked to the left, and he tasted blood as his teeth cut the inside of his cheek.
“Didn’t Mike...I didn’t rat...swear it.” David’s head hung down, his face and ribs were
throbbing with pain. He watched as his blood dripped from his face and pooled on the floor.
“I know you’re not a traitor, David,” Mike said, and the men around the room grumbled. “But I did put you in charge of keeping the cops away from the warehouse. You failed in that task. Let him go,” Mike whispered, and David fell to his knees on the floor. “We put so much faith in you, David, and this is how you repay us?”
David knelt there, his head hanging down. Mike was right; this was David’s fault. He had one job to do—to keep the cops away—and he had failed. Now, his brothers were in jail, and the remaining free members of God’s Reapers were hiding in some crappy shack out in the desert.
“I’ll make it up to you, Mike,” David said. He managed to lift his head and look up into Mike’s eyes. “Anything, Mike. I’ll do anything.
“Yes,” Mike said. “You will.”
CHAPTER TWO
Why do I feel bad? Olivia thought, as she drove her police cruiser through the northern part of town. It was very, very quiet out. Normally such quiet would be a cause for concern, a warning that something was about to happen, but not today. No, ever since the raid on the God’s Reapers headquarters, everyone had gone to ground. There were no more children playing in the street, no more families sitting on their stoops chatting, and no more motorcycles. There was only silence and empty streets.
Lance sat next to her, staring idly out onto the street, as Olivia continued to drive. He hadn’t questioned her when she headed for this part of town. He hadn’t said anything, and Olivia was grateful. She had no real reason for being in this part of town, no reason she could talk about anyway. The truth was, she was looking for David Creely. Not to arrest him, but to talk to him, to explain to him that she hadn’t called in the raid, that she—in fact—had nothing to do with it. But why she felt the need to explain this to him, she couldn’t say.
The raid had produced enough evidence to put the arrested bikers away for a long time. They had found evidence of federal conviction levels of illegal drug activity. The gang had been moving drugs through the city, using the warehouse on Marigold Street. They were guilty, and so was David. David had tried to bribe her. He had come to her house to threaten her and still she wanted to find him. To arrest him, she told herself. You want to find him so you can throw him in jail. But that wasn’t true. She had been so relieved to find that he hadn’t been arrested in the raid she had almost cried. However, she shouldn’t have. She shouldn’t have these types of feelings for this person. He was a bad guy; he was involved in illegal activities—and Olivia knew that she had to stay away from him. So why was she driving all over town looking for him?
When he had attacked her at her apartment, he had been like a man broken. His voice was raw, and his hands shook. He didn’t have a gun when he confronted her, even though he would have known that she had one. So what did that mean? That he didn’t want to hurt her, or that it was something he had to do? Or maybe he had just come over in the heat of the moment, unprepared only because his mind had been on other things?
That was why Olivia was looking for him; she needed an explanation; and she needed answers. And even more than that, she didn’t want him to think of her like that. She didn’t want him to think that she was capable of betrayal or lies. She wanted him to trust her, but so far, he was nowhere to be found. In truth, Olivia didn't even know where to look for him. She had driven past Hillary Sweetie’s house, but no one had been home. None of the bikers were going near the clubhouse. So where else would he be?
Finally, after driving aimlessly for two hours Olivia heard the familiar roar of a motorcycle to her left. She looked down a side street and saw a man on a shiny, black bike, but she couldn’t tell who it was. With her lights and sirens off, Olivia turned to follow the man on the bike, hoping without reason that it might be David.
“All units, report of a domestic disturbance at Eighteenth and Crescent Street,” came the call from dispatch. However, Olivia made no motion to answer it. She was still following the biker, still trying to see if it was David or not. I can let this one call go, she thought. She answered every single call that came in, and there were dozens of other units out there. This one time she could let one of them answer it.
Lance looked at Olivia, confusion in his eyes. “Are you really not going to answer that?” he asked.
“I want to follow this biker and see where he goes,” Olivia answered.
“We’re in a squad car, Olivia,” Lance said. “He’s going to see us and he’s not going to lead us anywhere.”
Olivia ignored him and continued to drive, keeping a distance between herself and the biker. She wished he would take his helmet off so she could see if David’s tell-tale blond locks were hiding underneath. It was impossible to tell who was on the bike; all she could see was the driver’s back.
“What are you even looking for?” Lance asked. However, she couldn’t tell him that she was searching for the hot biker she had a one-night stand with, a biker who she was starting to develop real feelings for.
“We didn’t get all of God’s Reapers,” was all she said, as she continued to drive.
“All units, all units, we have reports of shots fired at Eighteenth and Crescent. Officers requesting assistance. All units converge,” the crackly voice of dispatch said.
“Shit,” Olivia said, turning the car around and turning on the siren and the lights. “Shit, shit, shit,” she repeated. She had done the worst possible thing. She had been following a random biker, hoping it was her erstwhile one-night stand, and had missed a call. Someone was shot; someone was hurt and dying because Olivia had turned into a lovesick schoolgirl.
“Hey,” Lance said, “don’t beat yourself up. Stuff like this happens. You can’t start blaming yourself because, before you know it, you’re going to be blaming yourself for every bad thing that happens.”
Olivia nodded at him as they sped down the streets, blasting through stop signs and red lights. All the while her mind went through the million different things that might have happened because she had her own agenda when she came to work that day. She had forgotten her own vow: to serve and protect the people who lived here. While that did include David, it wasn’t exclusive to him.
They arrived at the scene, joining six other police cars and ambulances that had already arrived. As Olivia pulled into the driveway, she saw an older man on a stretcher as it was put into the ambulance. However, the motions of the EMTs were not rushed. No, they were decidedly slow. Whoever that man was, there was nothing that could be done. He was dead. As Olivia watched the doors close on the man, she felt a numbness come over her. Her entire body buzzed and then went silent. She felt disconnected from herself. She was still in her body, but something else was in control. Something else was handling the breathing in and out and the balancing of her feet and legs.
“What happened?” Olivia asked an officer who was already on the scene.
“Couple of brothers. They were arguing over money. The neighbors called, but it must have got out of control.”
“Who answered the first call?” she asked.
The other officer shrugged sheepishly. “Honestly, we thought you would have been on it.”
Olivia shook her head. Sometimes it seemed like the entire force of Marina’s Crest was made of Lances in various disguises—men who wore guns and rode in a cop car but were disinterested in actually fighting crime. There was nothing for her or Lance to do. Police were already putting up tape; the other brother had been arrested; and detectives and CSI were on the way. She wasn’t needed.
With a sigh, Olivia got into her car and buckled her seatbelt. While she had been out chasing white rabbits on motorcycles, a real crime had taken place, and she had done nothing to stop it. The one domestic violence call that was an actual emergency and she hadn’t answered it. She was being pulled in two opposite directions. On one side was her job, her calling, and her life's work. On the other side was David Creely, a kid from the wrong side of the track
s who was caught up in something dangerous, who was dangerous himself.
Olivia knew what she needed to do. She needed to forget David Creely. She needed to put him out of her mind. She needed to forget about the one night they had spent together and focus on her job, the one thing she had always wanted. David Creely was out there somewhere, probably still furious at her and the force. However, she couldn’t look for him anymore; she needed to put him behind her. If they met again, so be it. But Olivia had to stop looking.
CHAPTER THREE
“Rick’s coming back to town at ten tonight. He’s going to cut through the northern edge of town and go to the safe house we have up there,” Mike said, as he smoked a cigarette in the cabin out in the desert. Everything was dark; there was only one light bulb hanging in the kitchen. The night outside was dark and cool, but mostly it was silent. They were so far out of town that few cars had a reason to pass.
Rick had gone down south to meet with their suppliers who were furious about the raid by the cops. There was nothing Rick could do, other than tell them that it was the cost of doing business. As a known leader of God’s Reapers, he was still wanted by the cops though, so his movements needed to be carefully coordinated so he wasn’t arrested.
