I still reeled from the shock of the news, though.
“He botched a mission we were running at the time because of conflicting interests with his father’s own missions. He intentionally tanked it, we lost out on tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of merchandise when we were peddling it there for a bit, so he was let go,” Knox said.
I shook my head. “Fucking—you talk about us holding back shit. But seriously?”
“Hey, that hasn’t been relevant at all until now. You saw what was happening with our families and you still didn't come clean with yours,” Grave said.
I sneered at him. “You think it’s my fault Ariel’s in this situation?”
“All right. Settle down. I’ve had enough of this shit,” Diesel said.
My eyes whipped over to Rock. “What’s the address of this woman?”
He shook his head. “I’m not giving you that. I’ve got no guarantee you won’t go storming into that house.”
“And if I do?”
Diesel glared at me. “You won’t, because we need a plan in place.”
“There’s nothing in this woman’s background that suggests she actually works with Lars and his men,” Rock said.
“Except for the fact that she has my fucking daughter!” I roared.
Rock stood up. “I’m not giving you shit until you promise me, you’re going nowhere near that house.”
“I wouldn't give him shit at all, if I were you,” Brewer murmured.
I drew in a deep breath and I saw the flicker of something behind Rock’s eyes. Just enough of a glimmer for me to see the bone he was tossing me. I sucked my anger down as much as I could, settling myself back onto my feet. And with a nod of my head, I sighed.
“I get it. We have to go at this as a team. Like we’ve done in the past,” I said.
“Yes. It’s the only way to protect all of our families and preserve yours,” Rock said.
“Can I at least have the address to give myself a peace of mind? I can look it up on Google Maps and see my daughter’s not in some shithole?” I asked.
“I’m sure Rock doesn’t mind doing that,” Diesel said.
“With all due respect, I’d like to do it myself. I just willingly left my little girl behind with that woman. I’d like to have at least some semblance of control in this situation.”
Saint sighed. “Give the poor man the address. Give him peace any way he can get it.”
I knew Diesel didn’t agree, but Rock wrote down the address. I slipped it into my back pocket as the guys started talking over one another. Trying to figure out our next move. But Rock? He simply nodded his head with a grin across his cheeks. He knew. He knew what I was about to do. And as his head nodded softly down the hallway behind him, I cleared my throat.
“Gotta piss, you guys. Be right back,” I said.
Diesel waved me off, then continued brainstorming with the rest of the guys. And me? Well, I backtracked down the hallway before sneaking around in the dark. Making my way for that side porch door. Probably the worst fucking place to put a door in a clubhouse like this one. But it worked in my favor. I slipped away from the arguing crew and raced for my bike. Ready to get to this fucking address.
Ready to keep a watchful eye on my little girl.
I walked my bike down the road before I struck it up. I didn’t want it startling the guys and having them come after me. Did they really think I’d sit back and let some random woman connected to the fucking mafia take care of my little girl? Fucking not. The only reason why I didn’t take Ariel from her in that soup shop was because I hadn’t been armed.
And I wouldn't make that mistake this time.
With two guns on either side of my body and one against my ankle, I raced off into town. At a stoplight, I slipped the piece of paper out and took note of the address. I punched the damn thing into my phone, pulling up a map before mounting my phone to my bike. I followed where it told me to go. Then, I found myself shell-shocked as I made my way into a neighborhood filled with massive homes.
I mean, they were massive for me. Easily three times that of the clubhouse. So, around five thousand square feet a piece? Perfectly manicured lawns. Enough space between the houses for the neighbors not to disturb one another. Two-and-three story homes that backed up to forestry I didn’t think existed in the city of Redding.
I drove up and down the streets of that neighborhood to make sure I didn’t spot anything off.
If the mafia was watching the house, the last thing I wanted was to park my ass outside of it and be a sitting duck. That’d put me at risk as well as my kid. And that shit wasn’t happening. However, I didn’t see anything off. No black SUVs sitting around. No one in the trees, watching from tree-stands with scopes or shit like that. I even checked the slits for the sewers to see if anyone had perched themselves in there. And there was no one.
So, I parked my bike in front of the house.
It was a gorgeous house. I mean, the most rundown of the houses on the block. Kind of tucked away off the road a bit. Definitely shrouded by trees at any given moment. But still a nice house. With a bit of elbow grease and pressure-washing, the place would shine like the rest of the houses on the block.
Out of all the places I expected to be, though, upper middle-class suburbia wasn’t one of them.
I sighed as I stared down the house. With its gray-scale stone structure and its wrap-around porch, the place looked almost homely. Not as bright as any of the other houses. The porch was a bit crooked from years of use. Definitely an older home, but it had bones. Strong bones. Despite its outer appearance, it was easily the largest house on the block. Two stories with a lofted portion. What looked like a basement, with the white-washed brick that trailed off down a sloping hill off the side of the house. It was the only house on this little dead-end crook the neighborhood had, which told me who ever lived in this house probably owned the chunks of property around it in order to keep it secluded.
I was definitely at the right place.
I sat there, trying to figure out what the fuck to do now that I’d arrived. I turned off my bike and straddled it, then turned off my phone. I slid it onto my pocket. I tried buying myself some time before it turned from me needing a plan to me being a fucking chicken.
So, I weighed my options.
If this woman was alone, I had the capability to barge in there and take Ariel. But if this woman had someone else from the mafia there with her, I’d have a bit of a fight. A fight I could take. But it exposed Ariel to the kind of life I lived, which was a massive risk. Going in blind was a stupid thing to do. At the very least, I needed to know how many I was up against.
But I couldn't be this close to my daughter and not doing anything.
Again.
A motion out of the corner of my eye caused me to turn my attention to the window. On the first floor. Right by the door, in what I assumed was some sort of sitting room. That was usually how houses like this were laid out. The curtains rustled before one of the blinds were pulled down. And the second that little eye peeked out, I grinned. She had good senses, this woman. But the mere fact that she was peeking out told me everything I needed to know.
She was alone.
Perfect.
I whipped my leg around my bike, sliding off the leather seat. And as I made my way across the street, I kept my eyes peeled. The blind flipped closed and the curtain fell back into place. So, I braced myself. Even if this woman didn’t know how to shoot a gun or anything, if she grabbed one, I’d have to wrestle it away from her. I braced myself for a fight. I trotted down the elongated driveway and hopped onto the porch. I didn’t have a plan. I simply had to wing it. But after standing there for a few seconds and not hearing a gun cock on the other side of the door, I took a chance.
And knocked.
I knocked on the door a few times, allowing my left hand to rest softly against the butt of the gun at my side. Still concealed. Still cloaked from the world, but there if she swung the door open and stu
ck a damn shotgun in my face. I didn’t hear anything, though. So, I picked up my fist and knocked on the door again.
Before her voice finally sounded.
“Who is it?”
“I’m sorry to bother you so late. But something’s going on with my bike,” I said.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
I sighed. “Is there any chance I could use your phone or something?”
“Do you not have one on you?”
“I don’t have signal in this part of town.”
“Seems to be a common thing,” she said.
“Would you let me use your phone? If that’s all right. I just need to call someone to come get me and this bike,” I said.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can help you.”
I held back a growl. “Please. You’re the only one with a light on right now. And I’d really like to not sleep in the woods tonight.”
“I can direct you back to the main road. I’m sure you can flag someone down there.”
“Please, Miss. I just need your phone for a few seconds. I promise, I’ll give it back.”
“Who do you need to call? If you give me the number, I can call them for you. What’s your name?”
Fucking hell. “I’m begging you.”
“And I’m giving you an answer.”
“I really need to use your phone.”
“And I really need to stay safe.”
I sighed. “Look, I understand. Completely. I’m not here to hurt you. I just need to—”
“Call someone about your bike. Yes. I can hear you just fine. Give me the phone number and I’ll call them on your behalf. I’ve already got my phone in my hand.”
Which means you’re a step away from calling 9-1-1. “Will you just listen to me, please? My friends aren’t going to answer a phone call from a number they don’t recognize.”
“And I’m not going to answer the door for someone I only met yesterday.”
Fuck. “Open this door.”
“No. How did you find me? How did you figure out my address, Ryker?”
“Open this fucking door.”
“I’m calling the police.”
I slammed my fist against the damn piece of wood. “Just let me see Ariel!”
And as I leaned my forehead against the door, trying to hold back tears, I heard the lock on the other side flip.
12
Kaylynn
The second he spoke; I recognized his voice. And I wasn’t a fucking idiot. Even though I didn’t enjoy listening to my parents’ bullshit growing up as a child, that didn’t mean I didn’t learn a thing or two. I hadn’t recognized him in the dark. Walking up to my front door. But the second he spoke; I had the upper hand. Whether he thought I was an idiot or not, he didn’t know I knew who he was. So, I tried getting him to tell the truth.
I kept turning him down at every turn, hoping he’d tell me why he was really there. But he insisted that stupid bike of his was broke down. I wasn’t dumb, though. He was trying to get into this house for some reason. And the only thing that made sense was that he knew Ariel’s father.
Which meant he’d come looking for the girl.
My thoughts were confirmed when his fist slammed against the door. When the aching in his voice rose as he mentioned seeing Ariel. He’d definitely come for the girl, and I had two options. Risk my brother’s boss finding out she was still here by making a show of this. Or I could let him into the house and backtrack into the kitchen. I had weapons there. Many weapons I could get a hold of in a split second.
So, I took a chance.
I flipped the lock on the door and slowly inched it open. I came face to face with the guy from the soup shop, and holy hell was he as hot as I remembered him to be. Those beautiful hazel eyes. Twinkling with desperation as the darkened sky above us reflected in his gaze. His hair looked browner now with the sundown. But I saw the red of his eyebrows and it warmed my gut. Only, I noticed something on his face I hadn’t seen before. How I hadn’t noticed it was a completely different story. But there it was. Mimicking the streaks of my back.
A scar, starting from the right upper side of his head and cascading across his face. All the way down to the lower left side of his jawline.
He’s scarred, like me.
I studied him for a long time. I craned my neck back to keep him in view. Because he was incredibly tall. And there was something about his eyes that seemed familiar. I couldn’t place them, but it was like I’d seen them somewhere. His hair was thick. His nose tailored specifically for his face. He had a smattering of lightened freckles against his skin that were almost unseen in the darkness of the night.
He stood there, looking down at me. And when those lips of his curled into a mindless little grin, it hit me.
He looks a hell of a lot like Ariel.
Was it possible? Could this be her father? But it didn’t make sense. If this was her father, why not take her from me at the soup shop? Why leave her behind with someone he didn’t know? Was that what he was doing? Trying to keep tabs on me and figure out the kind of person I was since I had his daughter?
And if he knew I had his daughter, did he know why?
Because I sure as hell didn’t even know why.
“Hello, Kaylynn,” he said.
I nodded. “Ryker.”
“May I come in?”
“I’m shocked you asked the question after trying to barter your way in here.”
“I like to have manners where I can.”
“Did your mother teach you how to track down women with only their phone numbers and a picture? Or is that a skill you picked up as you grew older?”
“How’d you know I used only your number and your picture?”
I shrugged. “Because I’m not an idiot.”
He grinned wider. “Are you going to let me in? Or am I going to keep standing on this porch for the world to see?”
“Depends. You plan on using the weapons you’ve got on your person?”
His eye twitched. “What?”
I sighed. “Two guns on your hip, one on your ankle, and knives in your front pockets.”
“Knives.”
“Yes. Plural.”
“Huh.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “You leave them where they are, and I’ll leave mine where they are.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’d like to know where you’ve got your guns stashed.”
“Nowhere fun for your hands to touch, I can assure you of that.”
“Pity.”
Against my better judgment, I stepped off to the side. I let the man into my home. Into my sanctuary. Into my safe space. His eyes darted around, dancing around the crown molding that had chipped paint coming off it. I saw him take in the freshly waxed hardwood floors. I closed the front door and locked it, hoping and praying no one important had seen me let this man into my home at such a late hour.
Then, I turned around and watched him.
If this really was Ariel’s father, by the looks of him he’d do anything to get her back. The scar across his face told me about his ruthlessness. The smile that didn’t reach his eyes told me about the black soul he had stored within him. The way he lumbered around, his hands still hovering over his weapons, told me he had every intention of slaying me to get to her.
He turned around and connected his eyes with mine again. Causing my stomach to lurch as my heart slammed against my chest. He held my gaze, standing in the hallway. Blocking me from the kitchen as I pressed myself further into the wood of the front door. The house didn’t look like much, but it was safe. Big. Plenty of room for Ariel to run and jump around and adventure.
Why was I justifying that, though? I had his fucking daughter. Who cared what kind of house I had for her to roam around in?
“So, what do you think?” I asked.
Are you an idiot, Kaylynn?
He cocked his head. “About what?”
“You’re staring pretty hard at my house. Wh
at do you think of it?”
“I don’t care about the house. I’m looking for cameras.”
“To see if you’ll have an audience before you kill me?”
His eye twitched again. “You think I’m going to kill you?”
“You have my father’s smile. I don’t think you’ll hesitate to kill me.”
Something passed over his face, but it was too quick to catch. Just as easily as it passed over his eyes, his face sank back into stone. The grin, gone. His eyes, dead. A thousand-yard stare rose behind the bags of his eyes, and he suddenly aged in front of me. By ten years, at least. His shoulders slumped a bit. His eyes stared through me instead of at me. He went completely still, and it felt unnerving, to say the least.
“Ariel’s upstairs. Sleeping. She’s been sleeping for the majority of the day,” I said.
He perked up. “Is she sick?”
“Not from what I can tell. She’s not warm. She’s not sweating.”
“Is she growing?”
“That’s actually what I was researching before I felt you across the street.”
He grinned, and this time it met his eyes. Igniting those hazel eyes and confirming what had yet to be spoken.
He’s definitely Ariel’s father. They have the same eyes.
“Did you find anything interesting during your research?” Ryker asked.
“Actually, I did.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Care to elaborate?”
“Trying to determine the kind of care your daughter’s been under?”
“Let’s say ‘yes’ and go with it for now.”
My eyes narrowed a bit before I cleared my throat.
“For a girl her age, growing isn’t so much an issue as it is other things. Some kinds who struggle with things like allergies might be developing asthma. If she’s working harder to get adequate oxygen into her body, it might make her more tired. And with the tickle fight we had this morning before she napped against me, it makes sense. Does she have allergies?”
He paused. “Tickle fight?”
“Yep. Had a small one just before lunch. While watching Netflix.”
Dead Souls MC: Prospects Series Books 1-5 Page 53
