by Devney Perry
“I put a location tracker on her phone.” I huffed. “I thought she might be in danger from the Warriors because she’d been spending so much time with me and I didn’t want to risk it. After I noticed there was something wrong with my system yesterday, I drove to Missoula and tracked her to a restaurant. She was on a damn date. With Tucker Talbot’s lawyer.”
“Oh, fuck,” Dash muttered.
“Pretty much.” I rubbed my jaw, still dealing with the image of her sitting across from Ira Hug.
I hadn’t recognized Ira at first because his back had been to me, but when Nova had spotted me through the window, Ira had turned enough for me to glimpse his face. I’d bolted before he could spot me because he’d know my face. And Dash’s. And Leo’s.
I sure as hell knew his.
Ira was a slimy motherfucker, though he’d have to be to represent the Warriors and Tucker Talbot. He preferred to represent criminals and had a talent for getting the guilty acquitted due to technicalities in the investigations. He was ruthless and cunning, much like his clientele.
Thankfully, the weasel hadn’t been able to set Tucker free.
“You’re sure it was him?” Dash asked.
“I’m sure.” Ira, much like Tucker’s family in South Carolina, was someone I kept a close watch on. Because if there was anyone relaying messages in and out of prison from Tucker, it would be Ira or a member of his team.
“Does she work for him?” Bryce asked.
“No.” I sighed, standing to retrieve my coffee from the fireplace before sitting back down. “She does corporate legal work.” Her photo had been on her firm’s website. “Personal stuff like wills and prenups. She’s not a criminal attorney so she’s not connected to the Warriors through her firm.”
“What about her family?” Dash asked.
“Still looking.” I took a long pull from my coffee, trying to put the pieces I’d collected last night together. “I spent most of my time digging into Nova. I haven’t gotten deep into the family yet. Haven’t had enough time.”
Just skimming the surface of her life had taken me most of the night. First, I’d started with Nova’s credit cards. Maybe part of me had wanted to believe that it wasn’t true, that Nova wasn’t June Johnson. But then I’d seen the social media photos. The Louboutin purchases.
Next, I’d examined her family. A quick search had brought up a mother, a brother, a sister and a brother-in-law. There were probably a hundred friends to research too. Getting a holistic picture might take me close to a week.
Dash blew out a long breath. “There’s got to be more of a connection to the Warriors beyond a relationship with a lawyer. That doesn’t seem to be enough motive for her to come here, start something up with you and invade your life.”
“Agreed.”
“Then you keep digging.”
“I don’t want to,” I whispered. “I don’t want to keep digging.”
Because the more I uncovered, the more I hated her.
The more I hated myself.
“Why?” Dash asked.
I didn’t have to answer. The pity in Bryce’s eyes said she knew exactly why. “You’re in love with her.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I didn’t even know her goddamn last name.”
It had all been a lie.
That was what had driven me from my office this morning. Sure, I could have stayed at home and started looking into the family. I could have shown up at Dash’s place with a hell of a lot more answers than I currently had.
But I’d had to get out. I’d had to be gone from those computers because information wasn’t just useful, it was painful.
I loved Nova.
And Nova didn’t exist.
“This is going to hurt,” Dash said, his voice gentle and low.
“Yeah, it is.”
But it wouldn’t hurt as much as losing one of my family members. For them, I’d go through the pain.
“What can we do to help?” Bryce asked.
“Feel like pulling some news archives?” I asked. “See what comes up on her and any known family members.”
“Absolutely.” She nodded. “Would it help if I came to your place so we could work side by side?”
“No, but thanks.” I needed to be alone, not only to concentrate, but to process whatever I came across. “You stay here with your family.”
“You’re family too.”
I gave her a sad smile, then looked to Dash. “When is it going to get easier? When are sins from our past going to stop haunting us?”
“I don’t know, brother.” He shook his head. “Guess all we can do is our best. Pray it ends. Keep our kids out of it so they don’t go through the same.”
The next generation would have a chance at peace. Because they’d never know the Tin Gypsy life. I’d never been more grateful that we’d disbanded the club than in this moment.
Because while we might not spare ourselves, we might stand a chance at giving the kids a fair shot.
“I think we should leave Luke out of this for now,” Dash said. “Give you a chance.”
“I was thinking the same.” As much as I liked my friend, he was a cop and bound by rules that didn’t apply to me. While Dash and Leo were clean, I broke the law each time I hacked into someone’s life. Luke knew what I did but that didn’t mean he liked it. If I could keep him out of a compromising situation, keep from forcing him to turn a blind eye, then that was for the best.
“I’ll get out of here.” I stood from the chair, draining the rest of my mug before taking it to the kitchen sink.
Bryce and Dash met me by the door, watching with worried expressions as I tugged on my boots.
“I’ll call you with whatever I find,” Bryce said, her arms wrapping around me tight.
I hugged her back, then jerked my chin at Dash. “Brother.”
“Brother.”
They watched me from the doorway, standing together as I strode to my truck. When I backed out of the driveway, a little face poked between their legs.
Dash hoisted Zeke into his arms, then took his family inside.
I drove across town, yawning constantly. The lack of sleep from last night was catching up. I contemplated stopping by the coffee hut, but I’d hooked up with both baristas over the years and wasn’t really in the mood to deflect any attention—positive or negative.
My eyes were heavy, and my limbs felt sluggish. I was spent. I’d given all my energy to Nova and she’d spent me like a roll of quarters at a slot machine in Vegas.
The house was dark and quiet when I walked inside. The alarm panel beeped as I punched in the code—the new code I’d programmed last night. I trudged to my bedroom and slumped on the edge of the mattress.
She’d left her scent behind. A smell that was wholly Nova. The expensive floral perfume clung to the air. It clung to me. I couldn’t bring myself to wash her off my body.
Though a shower and a nap were overdue, I shoved to my feet and walked the length of the house for the basement staircase. I crawled beneath the pool table, retrieving the laptop I’d stowed just this morning before heading to Dash’s place.
With it under an arm, I carried it upstairs and to my office, settling into my chair. And even though I dreaded whatever I’d find, I got to work.
When an engine echoed outside, I jerked away from my monitors and checked the time. Three hours. Three hours had passed as if I’d barely blinked.
“Emmett,” Leo called from the front door.
“Office,” I called back.
His steps came down the hallway and I didn’t bother getting up.
“Hey,” he said, hovering at the threshold.
“Hey.” I jerked up my chin.
“You’re in the zone.”
“Yep.”
Without a word, he turned and retreated down the hallway. A second later, noise from the TV in the living room drifted my way.
He wouldn’t hover but he wouldn’t leave me alone. I was blessed with friends who un
derstood me. And given that he hadn’t asked any questions, Dash must have called and told him about our early-morning conversation.
He’d saved me the trouble of repeating it.
I went back to work and finished scouring Nova’s sister’s credit bureau report. I’d already gone through the mother’s, the brother-in-law’s and Nova’s. June’s. Reconciling them as the same person wasn’t getting any easier, even as the hours passed.
“She doesn’t have a father,” I said, loud enough that Leo hit pause on whatever show he’d found on Netflix.
A minute later, he was at the door. “None?”
I shook my head and leaned back in my chair. “None listed on her birth certificate. Mother is January Johnson. Older sister is May. And she’s June.”
June Nova Johnson.
“Huh. All months.”
“Except the younger brother.”
“Who’s the brother?” Leo came into the office and propped himself on the edge of my desk.
“TJ. And apparently it doesn’t stand for anything. All I could find was TJ. Even on his death certificate.”
“He’s dead? How?”
“Accidental death was the cause. I texted Bryce about an hour ago to see what she could find in the Missoula newspaper archives. She emailed me the obituary about ten minutes ago and an article on his death. I haven’t gone through it yet.”
Bryce was more experienced with news archive systems, and I’d been busy gathering information that was not public record. Most of my time so far had been spent pulling raw data, which took time. Cracking someone’s bank account and credit bureau report wasn’t exactly speedy.
I’d learned over the years that the real secrets weren’t kept on Instagram or Facebook for the world to see. The real secrets were always tied to money. If something suspicious was happening, nine out of ten times, the money trail was where you’d find it.
Soon I’d shift gears and start pulling photos and videos, the public information. I’d scour social media for the stuff people posted that they shouldn’t. Combined with what I’d already collected, that would help paint the full picture.
My focus thus far had been on the living relatives for any chance that they’d also been in Clifton Forge. But the mother hadn’t left Missoula in years. The sister and her husband had gone to Hawaii a year ago—and overpaid on their vacation rental—but otherwise, there was no indication they’d ever been to Clifton Forge.
Granted, they could drive here and back on a single tank of gas, but at the moment, they seemed like normal people living normal lives.
The same was true for Nova—June.
There was no reason she should have been in Clifton Forge. The only link so far was Ira Hug.
“Let’s see how the brother died.” Leo came to stand behind my chair, watching over my shoulder as I pulled up the attachments Bryce had sent over.
The article on the brother’s death was first. It was fairly short, stating that TJ Johnson had been killed in a hunting accident at the age of eighteen and that alcohol was suspected to be involved.
“Eighteen,” Leo said. “Damn.”
“Jesus,” I muttered as I kept reading. TJ’s cause of death had been a gunshot wound in the leg. The bullet fired from a friend’s gun.
I shouldn’t feel pity for Nova. None. But it was there regardless, a pinch that she’d lost a brother too young.
I clicked the obituary. The first few lines included a list of now-familiar names as TJ’s survivors.
“Emmett,” Leo gasped.
“What?”
His jaw was clenched and the color drained from his face. He jerked his chin back to the screen.
While I’d been reading the top, he’d jumped to the bottom, where there was a smiling photo of TJ Johnson.
I blinked, narrowing my eyes and leaning closer.
It took me a moment to recognize the face in the grainy black and white photo, but then recognition dawned and my heart dropped. “That’s . . .”
Fuck.
That face blasted me to the past, to an underground fight that had gotten way out of control. Leo had been there. So had Dad.
We hadn’t known his name was TJ Johnson. All we’d known was that he’d worn the Arrowhead Warrior cut.
TJ Johnson had been a Warrior.
TJ Johnson wasn’t dead because of a hunting accident.
TJ Johnson was dead because I’d killed him.
I’d shot Nova’s brother.
Chapter Nineteen
Nova
“How are you?” I asked Dad.
His eyes dropped to his orange jumpsuit. “Fine.”
Not fine.
I opened my briefcase, taking out the set of dummy papers I’d prepared last night before driving here this morning. Mom’s latest letter was on page three.
My boss hadn’t said a word about my last-minute request to take today off of work, other than an immediate approval. Probably because I’d worked nonstop over the past week, only stopping to sleep for a few hours before I’d wake, think of Emmett and dive back into work—in an effort to distract myself from thinking of Emmett.
So far those efforts had been in vain. Emmett was constantly on my mind.
I’d waited the entire week to see what he’d do. To see if he’d retaliate.
He’d taken that piece of mail, and by now, he had to know who I really was. Maybe not that my father was Tucker Talbot, very few people in the world knew that, but Emmett would know my name wasn’t Nova.
He’d know I’d lied.
Beyond that . . . it was a guess. I wouldn’t put it past him to know about TJ.
For a week I’d waited for him to make his move, wondering if he’d contact me. If he’d come after me. If he’d show up at my condo and kill me. I didn’t actually think he’d kill me, but Dad had promised the Tin Gypsies were murderers, so it wasn’t completely out of the question.
But there had been no sign of Emmett and I couldn’t tell if that was good or bad. Sitting idle, waiting for the other shoe to drop, had finally driven me insane.
Hence my visit to the prison today.
I needed to see Dad’s face. I needed to hear his voice. I needed answers.
I needed to know who to believe.
Dad looked at the papers, his voice barely above a whisper. “What have you found?”
“Nothing,” I answered. It was the truth. Because even though I had the flash drive, I still hadn’t been able to open it. I hadn’t had the courage to see what was there.
“Did my guy get ahold of you?”
Hacker. “Yes.”
“And?” There was something in his tone. Expectation. He’d asked for results and I hadn’t delivered, so he was growing impatient.
“Tell me about Stone.”
His lashes lifted. “I already told you.”
“Tell me again.” I leveled my gaze to his and for the first time, I sent my father a look that wasn’t adoring or affectionate.
He didn’t like it. His jaw clenched.
Could he see how my insides were churning? Did he realize that my patience was gone? Maybe the irritation on his face was because I’d given him an order and no one ordered Tucker Talbot around.
Deal with it, Dad. I arched my eyebrows, waiting.
“Why?” He narrowed his eyes.
“Because I’m asking you to tell me.”
“What’s going on, Nova?”
“You’ll just have to trust me that the reason I’m asking is important.” The truth was important.
He pursed his lips and shifted, the movement to conceal a quick glance at the guarded door. “He killed your brother.”
“At a fight.”
Dad nodded once. “At a fight. The Tin Gypsies cheated. Those fuckers rigged the fight. Rigged the bets. When TJ called them on it, Stone shot him.”
“Were you there?”
He shook his head.
So he didn’t know exactly what had happened. Maybe he’d gotten it wrong.
&
nbsp; “And Stone?” I asked. “What did you do?”
“I did what I had to do.”
“I want specifics.”
He shook his head but I wasn’t wavering. He was in prison for three consecutive life sentences without the chance of parole. Sure, the FBI might be recording this conversation illegally, but it wasn’t like a fourth life sentence would change anything.
Dad would die in this building.
And I wanted the truth.
“Nova,” he warned.
“Tell me.”
“I sent some men to Clifton Forge. Tracked Stone down at a bar.” The Betsy. “They waited until he got up to take a piss and hauled him out the back door. Put a bullet between his eyes. For TJ.”
“You did it. You pulled the trigger.”
Dad didn’t answer and the look on his face said he wasn’t going to. I guess in the end, it didn’t matter. That was the story Emmett had told me too.
No matter the voice speaking, it wasn’t easy to hear. All I could see was the photo of Stone in Emmett’s house. The one in the living room. His bald head. His long, braided beard. His large frame with an arm tossed around his son’s shoulders. And a smile that was the same as Emmett’s.
Stone had looked more like a Willie Nelson groupie than a kid killer.
So Dad’s story matched Emmett’s, and vice versa. Regardless, this was a sick cycle. Death and revenge and damn it, I was done. I was so fucking done.
This war of theirs would kill us all.
And silly me, I’d waltzed right into the middle.
Except it wasn’t really a war, was it? Because the Tin Gypsies weren’t fighting. They hadn’t landed my father in this place. No, he’d done it himself. I’d known that fact all along, but I’d ignored it. Why?
I stared at Dad, his expression unreadable.
Did he love me? For so long, that was all I’d wanted. His love. But now . . . maybe Shelby was right. Maybe Dad was manipulating me for his own gain. Maybe the only thing Dad had ever loved was his club.
“Nova.” His eyes softened because mine were on the verge of tears. “Whatever they told you is a lie. Trust me.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
“Good. I’m counting on you to finish this. For TJ.”
