Jack speaks, pulling me out of my damn head. Thank fuck.
"There is more to it. Her parents made her do it. Melissa said, Harley was only seventeen when the kid was born, that meant her parents had custody of her and the baby. They made her do it. Melissa said it was heartbreaking. Harley wasn't expecting it. It really tore into her soul. So bad that she don't even speak about it—at all. After that, she said Harley has always kept a wall up. Even with her." He takes a breath. “I don't like the sound of this Brother, something seems off. I don't think they could have made her do that. They must have tricked her. We are missing a big piece of this information."
Shit, this is bigger than I thought. Not just a normal adoption. They could have sold my baby—they could have done anything with it. My baby, my child. Fuck, I got to get Tech on it ASAP. I got a bad gut feeling about this. No wonder she was on guard about this. If she can't even open up to Melissa, no wonder she avoided me for so long. She can't talk about the heartbreaking moment her child was ripped from her. My child. My 'daddy' feelings are getting stronger with every thought about this. If I had known Harley didn't have the kid, I would have helped years ago; no matter how I felt. Now, the kid didn't grow with either blood parent. Shit.
"I don't like this Brother. I got a bad feeling about your kid. I'll call Tech, and one other thing…"
"Yeah, bro, I'm heading to you right now. Don't tell Harley or Melissa. She can't run this time." I say, stalking toward my truck.
"Melissa said it was a girl." Jack says low, almost sympathetic. He could feel the shit I was feeling. All of us brothers, if one had pain, we all had pain. One had an enemy, we all had an enemy. That's family. Love. Loyalty. Respect.
A girl. I have a baby girl. A daughter. I rev up my truck, distorting my thoughts. I need to see Harley, now. I want to know everything she knows. I don't care if she wants to speak about it or not, I do. I want to know about my fucking kid—now.
*******************************************
Jack lets me in the house. Both girls are still sleeping. He shows me where Harley is sleeping. I walk into the room and shut the door. Bronx lifts his head and I shush him. He lies back down. I sit at the end of the bed, watching her sleep. I know she is going to fight me on this. I don't want to let her know that Melissa betrayed her by spilling her past to Jack. But, hey, this is not about that shit; this is about my baby. Bronx gets off and comes to my feet. What the hell? I like this dog—he’s large, protective, fearless, and loyal. He reminds me of a Hell Hound. I smile at him. Good mutt.
Harley stirs in the bed, she calls for Bronx and he jumps up to her. After a moment, she jumps up. I don't give a fuck if I scared her or not. The delicate part of this situation has past—time for aggression. I don't want it to be that way, but if she won't even open up to Melissa, then she damn sure isn't going to open up to me. She is going to need some motivation.
"Stalker.” she says as she sits up.
"Don't you have a motorcycle to ride or a gun to shoot?"
After her little smart remarks, I finally speak to her.
"Harley, I'm giving you one chance to tell me everything you know about our daughter."
Her mouth drops open. She thought I wouldn't figure it out. Eat that. I want so bad to be angry with her for giving up our daughter, but I can't. She was alone; I abandoned her. If I didn't walk away, she would be with us now. The realization hits me hard. It's my fault she's gone—my baby girl. I know the past is the past, but I'll be damned if it isn't eating at me, the same it is her I’m sure. Shit! Swallowing back that damn worthless emotion, regret, I ask again.
"Where is she?"
"I…how did you find out?"
"One more time, Harley. Answer me."
She looks defeated. I hate to be so mean to get the answers my hearts craves. I wasted seventeen years without my daughter. Well, not a second longer if I can help it. Even if it's just to keep blind tabs on her, I will; anything to ease this gut feeling.
"I-I don't know. All I know is her name; they let her keep the name I gave her."
She starts to break, tears welling in her eyes. Damn it Ford! I mentally kick myself in the balls for this shit. It needs done though. But damn if I hate seeing her cry. It brings back the memory of her walking away from me at the park all those years ago. She had told me she wanted the kid, so I know she didn't give her up voluntarily. Sticking to my guns, I interrogate her more.
"Name, Harley." I'm growing impatient. Not with her, but this whole situation.
“I named her Avery Jane.” She says in a whisper.
“Avery Jane, Jane as in... my sister Jane?” I ask, shocked. Jane.
The memory of Jane flows through my mind; although I probably couldn’t remember much of her. She died at the age of seven. We were playing in the front yard. Our mother was high, passed out in the house. Hell, I was only four. We didn’t have many toys; a few toy cars, dolls, and a ball we both loved dearly. We were playing with it. She was teaching me to catch and throw it back. I went to catch the ball as it was thrown to me when it bounced off my knee and went rolling into the street.
“I’ll get it Ford, stay there.” Jane said as she ran into the street without looking. The car came out of nowhere. Hitting her just as she was running to get the ball across the street.
Harley speaks, bringing me back from that long forgotten memory of Jane. Thank fuck. One regret at a fucking time. Shit.
“Yes, as in her Aunt Jane. Are you mad? I should have asked you if it was okay to use her name.” she says, sniffling.
I know this is harder on her than me; she held our daughter, gave birth to her, named her, and loved her first.
“No, I... I just haven’t heard that name in a long time. It’s beautiful.” I answer. Avery Jane. I think to myself—a beautiful name for my baby girl. It's perfect. I'm feeling more connected, like I'm getting to know her already. I feel close just by knowing her name. I want to see her. Hug her. Protect her. Love her.
"Do you know who has her?" I ask, hopeful for the right answer.
"No, dad handled most of it. Mom said I should’ve kept the baby, paid for my sins. You know, no matter the relationship with my mother, for once I actually agreed with her. I wanted our baby Ford. Daddy made me do it. I'm so sorry." She says sobbing. She's more broken than I thought.
"Get up. Get dressed." I say standing. I need to speak with Jack and get in contact with the club.
"What are we doing?" She asks, standing and wiping her tears away. I go to her and hug her. Fuck if she don't want the comfort. I do. Shit. This is more than one man can handle.
"We are going to search your parent’s house inside and out."
"Okay." She says, faintly. I know she is worn out and tired and probably in pain from her incidents. But this needs done—now. I want it done, now.
*******************************************
Harley
The saying ‘that you can't run from your past' makes perfect sense in this situation. As I'm getting dressed, I feel a huge weight off my shoulders. I'd admit I never would have lifted that weight off by myself. Talking about it with Ford brought back so many memories and agony. I just wanted my baby. Nothing ever goes as planned, right? What’s going to happen when we find her? We can't very well go barging into her life. Gesh. Clearly Ford is in charge and I don't see him listening to what I have to say. So much for heading back to Washington today. I go out to the living room and to the front yard. Lissa was still sleeping, oblivious to all that is happening in her own house. The guys are out front. So I take a deep breath and head out with Bronx hot on my heels.
"You ready?" Ford asks me. No, honestly I'm not at all ready. But I got to suck it up. If this is my one chance to find Avery, I don’t want to lose her twice. Hell no. At least the tension between me and Ford is no more; just our regret together and our search for our daughter. Oh, and the sexual chemistry. Damn it.
"Yea, I'm ready. Let's go Bronx." I say walking to the monster on four wheels.
Man this truck is even more intimidating in the day time. I can barely reach the handle. Jack comes up behind me and opens the door for me. His sweetness makes him sexier. Impossible.
"Thanks." I say, struggling to climb in the truck. I grunt and slip off of the step.
"Damn it!" I mutter to myself. I can hear Jack and Ford laughing at me; it pisses me off. Glad my struggle to get in this overly large vehicle is funny. I get pissed and turn around on both of them.
"I'll drive my own damn car; at least I don't need a climbing rope." I stomp off to my little jeep. She looks so small compared to the truck.
Oh well. I love her. She’s the perfect size for me. I holler for Bronx. He comes and gets in and we wait. The guys come over to my jeep. Great, got a short joke for me or something? Biker punks. I roll down my window anyways.
"I'm going to send Jack ahead to the club to fill them in. The more we have looking, the better." He looks at Jack then to me.
"Okay." I say. What else was I supposed to say? I was surprised he was informing me. But it does have to do with Avery so I'm thankful to be kept in the loop.
Jack is smiling at me—not genuine either. Almost like he knows something I don't.
"We'll get her back Sexy Name, no worries babe." I smile. His words give me more comfort. Ford was right, having people help find her is better—faster.
"Thanks.” I tell Jack.
"Meet you at the house." I say to Ford. I start my jeep and head to the house.
*******************************************
Ford
Harley just bounces back from me ripping her heart out this morning. What? Either she has mastered the art of a poker face or she really wants to find Avery as much as I do. I'm sure she does, but to crack that bottle open took a lot. I hope she is ready. I don't want to tell her about my gut feeling. I just want her smiling; I have yet to see her smile. My body craves for her to laugh and smile. I need it, especially at this time. I've seen her smile at Bronx, but I want her smiling at me. These wimpy thoughts are killing me, damn it. I need a beer and a good lay. “After I find Avery.” I say to myself.
After turning the house upside down, we find nothing. Just some photos of Harley and Avery at the hospital. And a few of her father's bank statements. I already called Tech to dig up what was going on. It was another gut feeling I had, the paper said her father was making a thousand dollar transfers once a month to a different account.
Odd. It wasn't savings, or the accounts would be connected. This other account was at a whole different bank.
Could be a trust fund for Harley, but that would still be at the same bank. Wouldn't it?
I can't bring myself to justify why he would be making such a large transfer on a schedule. If anyone can find out what the old bastard was up to, it would be Tech. That fucker can hack anything you ask him too. Just twenty-four hours is all the time he would need.
It's been about eighteen hours. He should be calling at any time. He never really needed the full day, the expansion of time just for precaution in case of a firewall or a virus. I don't know much about that tech shit—hence his name. Harley is asleep on the couch with her savior. I envy that dog. I want to be that for her. Damn it. Growling at the thought, I grab another beer from her dad's fridge. At least he had good taste in beer. That’s about all I can say about the douche for taking my Harley and Avery from me. If she would have kept the baby, she probably would have stuck around and I would have come to my senses. Damn. That regret shit floods my body again.
My phone rings, breaking the silence in the room. I hurry and answer it. Careful not to wake her, I step into the kitchen.
"Speak." I answer.
"Tech. I got news. Those transfers are to a man, Robert Freeman. He has been getting money from her father for over thirty years. It's not for a house or anything else. It's payment, I just don't know for what, Brother."
I sigh. I already knew all of that, just no name. Next, background check on Mr. Money hungry.
"Background check him."
"Already did. Brace, Brother." Damn it. Here is where my gut is telling me to go. This is the big reveal. I know it. No one pays over thirty thousand bucks to someone for shits and giggles.
"Speak."
"Church Brother. Eight a.m." With that he hangs up. What the fuck? Growling, I down my beer.
"Fuck..." I mumble to myself. Nothing left to do but get some sleep. Shit, it's been almost forty hours since I've slept. We searched her parent’s house all day and half the night. I plop down on the recliner, watching her sleep until my eyes grow heavy and all goes black. I welcome it. There, nothing is wrong or right, bad or good. Missing or not. Just straight black—nothingness.
Chapter Five
Ford
I’m sitting in church, waiting for the rest of the brothers to pile in. Colt, Jester, Jinx, Prez and Eli are already here. No one is ever late for church. Its seven fifty-five. Five minutes. I wish this time would pass by fast. This has to do with Avery, I know it does. I just can't think of what could be so important that it involves the club to call Church. It’s unusual.
In comes Ruckus, Coin, Jack and Tech. About damn time. I'm ready to get this shit started.
"Tech, won’t you explain to the Brothers what you have been up to the past twenty-four hours." Prez says, looking at Tech. The whole table turns to look at him. I want to know now. However, screaming for him to speak faster would only cause an issue. Only a few of the brothers know about Avery. And now it is time to spill the oil.
"Chevy has come to me for help in locating his daughter." They all look at me.
"Go on, Tech." Prez says, redirecting the table. We both nod toward each other and focus back on Tech.
"There were bank transfers from Harley's father to a Robert Freeman…" Tech gets cut off.
"Who is Harley?" Eli asks.
"Excuse me, I'm getting ahead of myself. Harley is Chevy's baby mamma. Now that we are on track; the transfers, Mr. Freeman. Does anyone know that name?"
"For one, that name is hot as fuck, makes my cock twitch." Jester announces.
Makes me want to cut his tongue out so he can't say her name and make sure his cock can’t do any damn thing. I need these fuckers to help me. Squeezing my chair, I look at Prez. He nods, already knowing my feeling. He is good at reading people so I don't bother denying it to him. My face probably says it all right now.
"Get your balls off at another time, dickhead, listen to Tech. Do any of you recognize the damn name?" Prez regains their attention. Prez isn't anyone to fuck around with. He didn't get the name Executioner for picking flowers that is for damn sure.
"Nah." They all say, including me. Who is this fuck and what makes him so damn important for church to be called over his name? It makes my blood boil that he is remotely linked to my Harley. My Harley? Damn emotions. I'm a killer, yet she brings out some shit in me I thought I lost when she left me all those years ago.
"Mr. Freeman is the president of the Jackals." Tech says. My mouth drops. My blood rises. The worst of the worst—no values, no morals. They just play biker. They don't understand the meaning of brotherhood. No code. No respect. I could go on and on about these fucks. God damn it. I knew this was bad, just never knew it would be this bad. Shit. We have been at war with the Jackals for years. Since they killed off Prez's father, the original president of the Branchwood Chapter. Shit. So much blood has been shed over these sons a bitches it's unreal. Last year was the icing on the cake with the loss of my uncle and two brothers. We vowed to take their entire chapter completely out. Exterminate the mutts.
"What the fuck does that have to do with Avery or Harley?" I ask, annoyed.
"It so happens that her father was a Jackal. Once upon a time." Tech answers.
How? We didn't find anything that indicated he was a biker. At all. He was clean cut. Suit and tie kind of guy. No way. Then again, I think. We never found any old photos of them before Harley was born. Nothing. Like they weren't around u
ntil she was. I got to speak to Harley. I doubt she knows any of this. She would have said something. Right? Or is that why she hated the Hell Hounds MC? I need answers.
"Apparently, when he knocked up her mother, they got married, her at sixteen and he was twenty-six. He was a Jackal for six or so years. Harley came along. He wanted out, for the kid’s sake. Only way out was a grand a month. Miss a payment? You go to ground."
"How do we know this?" I ask.
"Tracked down an old Jackal that got out around the time her father did."
"Once again, Prez, what does this have to do with my girls?" That's right, I said MY girls. I dare another cock to jump, twitch, or jerk to her damn name again.
"Well, Chevy, Brother. Her father was a Jackal. We have to dig deeper. Tech, continue Brother."
"Chevy, Brother, there is no record of an Avery Jane Brookes being adopted." Tech sighs.
"Are you telling me my baby girl just vanished into thin air?"
"Sorry, Brother. I'll dig more, but I got to say, this Jackal history isn't making me feel good about her. I'm telling you that they are connected." He sighs again. "I'm sure of it. I'll do a full BC on the mutt and see what else I can dig up."
"How long Tech?" Prez asks. I want to know too. This is my baby girl we are talking about. I don't know if I want to kill him now for even being close to Harley—even by acquaintance or maybe knowing where my daughter is. They dabble in human trafficking. But a baby wouldn't do them any good, would it? Shit. I need a beer or five.
"Two hours, tops."
"Church in two, stick around Brothers and stay alert. If they find out we are digging into their back yard, they'll bark. We don't need them tipped. Chevy, I know this shit is personal for you but you got to keep it air tight for now. Try to get info, search that house again—look everywhere. In the walls if you have too. Take Jack and Jinx with you. I want something found on this mutt. Now." He slams the gavel down.
Delayed Love Page 6
