by Ryan Michele
Rylynn
Pressing the button on the camera repeatedly, asshole husband case two was indeed cheating on his wife and something told me she wouldn’t be too keen on seeing the pictures currently on my memory card. Her husband was wearing a pony head with leather straps all over his body criss-crossing this way and that, and he was pretty ripped; definitely spent time at the gym. The guy behind him had the leather reins attached to the husband’s mouth in his hands, using the force to fuck married man hard in the ass.
Too each their own. While I didn’t get off on pony play, this guy obviously did and didn’t want his wife to know. Or hell, maybe she did know and wouldn’t participate with him. Every relationship was different between people.
There was no textbook right or wrong because everyone had unique likes. It was finding that person in the world who had those same likes as you and fitting together like a puzzle piece. It wasn’t an easy task. Most of the time we had to go through a hell of a lot of duds to hopefully come out on the other end with someone who fit.
Other times, some never found their fit and were left alone. While others were completely content on being alone and didn’t want to deal with a partner on a daily basis.
Each person, life, choice and love was different.
In this case, from the paperwork I read from the wife, she was going to have a coronary considering she taught Sunday Bible school and didn’t know where her husband ‘lost his way from Jesus.’ Seemed she only thought she knew her husband.
Knowing that I’d need to do this a few more times to establish a pattern instead of a one-time thing, I climbed down from the bucket I stood on and looked into the dingy motel room. Yes, it was a motel in every sense of the word. It’d seen better days about thirty years ago and was just getting worse.
Heading to my Jeep, I tossed the bucket in the backseat and set the camera down on the floorboard after quickly checking the shots, fired up, then got the hell out of there.
The case on the missing girl had a lot of moving parts, and just reading through all the reports and evidence was a bit overwhelming, but doable. It needed to be processed in the way my brain could sort it all out.
While I was still reading and brainstorming on that case, the cheating husbands were easier to get done so I bumped them up on the priority list to get them out of the way so I could focus on the missing girl. Considering they didn’t fuck their playthings all the time, it gave me time to think about Elizabeth, the missing girl.
My phone rang from my back pocket. I lifted, pulled it out, and looked at the display which said ‘Mazie Calling’. Answering, I greeted, “What’s up, monkey?”
“Dad won’t let me go to Payton’s house.”
A smile tipped my lips. “And what? You called me to change his mind? Because you do know I have the magical powers from the unicorns to do that.”
“You can. He listens to you.”
I laughed full out as I pulled into traffic. Even at ten-years-old she got my sarcasm. It was quite impressive. “No, monkey. He doesn’t.”
“When you wanted your bike, Dad let you.”
This was going to be a battle, I could already tell, and it wiped the humor out of the situation. My baby sister, who was ten going on thirty, thought she could do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted. With our dad being overprotective and only now having one child under his roof, I was sure it was ten times worse. Add in him just losing his best friend, my grandpa, and I was sure Dad had Mazie locked up like Fort Knox. Still, there were certain things where Mazie had him in the palm of her hand. This was not one of those things.
“Maz, that bike was very old. Dad and I worked together to restore it. Hours we spent, Maz. That’s why he didn’t say anything. He appreciates it when you work hard.”
“What about you leavin’ here?!” she yell-screamed in my ear, forcing me to hold the phone back a foot. “He let you move out!”
Mazie had a lot to learn about life. She’d been around everyone at the Ravage MC for so long that she thought she walked on water because everyone thought she was adorable and everyone catered to her. Mom and Dad allowed this, but if they didn’t pull her ass back and soon, she was going to turn into a little shit and that was fast approaching. No way my sister was going to be the shit kid. I knew our parents were over compensating for me leaving and Grandpa dying and weren’t in the right mindset for this now. Therefore, it was up to me to do so.
“You need to ride this out, Maz. You’re ten. You have eight more years before you even think of having a say-so in your life. No use in getting angry because it won’t change anything.”
“I know. Just sucks.” She sounded defeated on the other line, which was better than fired up to take on Dad, the man she’d never take down once he made up his mind, attitude she threw around since getting on the phone.
“It does, Maz. Gotta give Mom and Dad this time.”
“They’re really sad about Grandpa.” She sniffled, and I wished I was there to wrap her in my arms.
She was so damn young to lose someone so close to her. I hated that for her, but there was nothing that could be done at this point. She was my little sister, and I wanted to shield her from all life’s pains. But what I had learned from losing my grandfather was losing hurt, living hurt, and feeling that all was agony.
Time. That was what all of us needed now and when you needed it, it dragged on feeling like it would stay in the vicious cycle forever.
“They are, and you need to give them a break. Let them deal with their loss the way they need to.”
“I miss him.” Her voice broke, and I pulled off to the side of the road feeling my chest tighten.
“I know you do, monkey. We all do.”
Some days, moments like this, I wondered if the pain could swallow us all whole. Make us go down the rabbit hole of grief to the point of not coming up. Our family was strong, my father made sure of that. But with this, could we remain that way? If one fell, it would be like a deck of cards, each of us going after.
“Why does stuff like this have to happen, Ry? Why can’t people just live and be happy? Why do they have to die?”
The emotion coursing through me clogged in my throat. The pain my family was feeling, I couldn’t take away. There was no way to ‘make them feel better,’ because there was no better at this point.
Grandpa was gone, and there was never a chance to change that fact. There was only coping, learning how to carry on. That was all we could do. Our choices were taken away from us.
“It just does, Maz. Life is life, and you can’t change things that have happened already. You have to figure out ways to deal with the changes. It won’t be right away, but it will happen.”
“It doesn’t feel like it.”
“I know. It won’t for a while. Just chill for a bit and everything should go back to normal.” At least I hoped, but the truth was nothing would ever be the normal we had before Grandpa died. It would now be a new normal that we’d all have to adapt to. It would be hard on everyone, but Mazie would get the brunt of the overprotectiveness because it was something my mother and father could control.
After losing your control, people did anything to get it back. It was like a cancer patient. They had no control over what was growing inside of them. When they started chemo, those toxins did something to the body that made them lose their hair. Some people chose to cut it off before it all fell out. While others waited. It was a control that they had some grasp on and made the decision to do. Each person having a different view on it, but it was theirs. It was the only control over what was happening to their bodies.
It was the same situation when you lose someone you love. You grasped at anything you could trying to hold on to the tangible things, thinking at any moment all of it could be swiped away from you. It was a fear that everything could change in the blink of an eye. Mazie was just caught in the crossfire.
“Okay. I have to go. I have math homework,” she said with the ease of Mazie, the girl she
was.
Like our father, she was tough. The good thing with kids, they had the ability to push shit aside and move on at least for a moment. She could still ignore the emotions in the depths of her heart and soul.
“Get it done, monkey.”
“Bye.”
“Later.” Hanging up the phone, I pulled back out in traffic. My dad could have a number of reasons for not allowing my sister to go somewhere, and I wasn’t stepping on any of that. Certain things were worth standing up for with him. Not going to a friend’s house was not one of them. There were bigger fish to fry in life, and Mazie needed to learn that.
Looking at the clock on the dash, I realized I was late. Gunning the Jeep, I made it to the gym with a minute to spare. Rylie was still going to kick my ass.
Deke’s ol’ lady had been training me for a while now, and she made me pay for it dearly when I was late. Excuses didn’t work on her.
Ever.
It was what I loved about her. No bullshit. We needed more people like her in the world.
Except now, my body was going to get ran over by a truck and slammed with a hammer. I’d for sure need ice tonight.
As the saying went, what doesn’t kill us only made us stronger… that would be my workout.
7
Crow
“What the fuck, Goldi?” Goldilocks’ brows were knit in anger as she surveyed Stephanie’s face. The doctor came to the clubhouse and did his thing. Steph was now packed with gauze with a reset nose and on serious painkillers about to pass out asleep. It was the best thing for her at this point.
She wasn’t one who could handle a blow like that. Instead, she was more likely to pet kitties at a shelter, find a nine to five husband, give him twelve kids and dinner on the table when he got home. Why she chose this life, I didn’t know. Her body, her choice.
Ravage was not a pimp show. We did not ever cross those lines. Goldi would check out the guys the girls wanted to hook up with and collect our twenty-five percent. Ravage didn’t get involved unless a situation like this arose.
We only offered protection, and our load was getting larger. Tex was dealing with that and keeping it at a reasonable number, but the women heard from others about how we did things in Rebellion. They then came to us wanting the same thing.
Hooking wasn’t a glamourous job, but when bills need to be paid, they did what they had to do. We just wanted them to do it safely.
Of course, it was against the law for women to be ladies of the night. Therefore, the money was cash to us always, keeping us in the clear. It also helped that we had Kenny who looked the other way knowing that we were protecting the women. It was one of the many things we tight-roped on, and fuck if that was going to come crashing down on us.
“Everything on him checked out. Name, address, job. Everything.”
“Not fuckin’ everything,” Tex growled, running his hands through his hair, frustration riding him hard. He was ready to attack. No one fucked with his girls.
Goldi put her hand to her cocked hip. “You think I’d put my girls in that spot?”
“No. Let’s take a ride,” Tex said, putting an arm around Goldi and kissing the top of her head. He knew like everyone else in the club that Goldi would kill the fucker for even thinking it.
She was a solid woman. The best. It was why she had the job she did.
Tex held out his arm pointing to the house in question. It was the affluent part of Rebellion with large homes, yards kept, and everything pristine. The windows had sheer curtains on them, and movement could be seen on the inside.
We looped around and pulled into the driveway, cutting the engines and going to the door. Tex knocked and a few moments later the door opened as a short, rounded brunette whose eyes widened at the sight of us answered. We had that effect. We were large and intimidating to most. Good thing we had some of the guys stay at the clubhouse to continue the search for bugs. This woman would’ve shit her pants with us all and ran in the house like a scared mouse.
“We’re here to see Blake,” Tex said on a friendly smile. That fucking smile served him well. It could mean he was going to tear your heart out or he liked you. It just depended on his mood. He said he learned it from watching me. What-the-fuck-ever.
“There’s no Blake who lives here,” the woman said hesitantly, fear glittering in her eyes that kept darting between the three of us. Her hand on the door started to slightly tremble. “What’s going on?”
“Just need to talk to Blake Graden.” Tex went for it again not giving up. Ravage never gave up.
Her hand on the door tightened turning her knuckles white, and she was about to give us the same spiel again so I cut in. Nice wasn’t cutting it so we needed to go in hard.
“Ma’am, do you know who Blake Graden is?”
She shook her head.
“What is your husband’s name?” She had a wedding ring on therefore I thought it pertinent to ask.
“Berry.”
Tex looked over to me thinking the same thing. The dickhead who hurt Steph made her call him B instead. Chances were, this was the fucker.
“Where is he?”
She shook her head, her hair flowing with the movement. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t lie to us,” Tex growled, making the woman jump back a foot, eyes terrified, and I swore I could see her heart pounding hard through her shirt. She was a scared little rabbit not wanting to get eaten.
“I’m not. He left our kids and me a while ago. He hasn’t even called, and he for certain hasn’t paid any of our bills.”
The way she trembled this time, she was telling the truth. She may be scared, but she was also one pissed off woman who got hung up at the toes.
Tex pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “If he calls or comes home, I need you to call me. Can you do that?”
“Will you hurt him?” Her eyes darted back and forth between all of us. While trying to get a read on it, I couldn’t tell if she wanted us to beat the shit out of him or if she was really concerned that we would.
“No, just wanna talk,” I lied, and the way her shoulders drooped just a touch told me she bought it or was sad. Yeah, this woman knew nothing of the underworld. One where her husband more than likely played. I felt the need to punch him just for putting that look on her face.
She took the card. “Okay.”
Nodding, we took off, walking to our bikes.
“You think she knows?” Tex asked low even though the woman threw the door closed.
“We’re gonna find out. Find a time when that car isn’t in the driveway, and we’ll go in and scope it. Need to do this asap. You think Wrong Way’s prospect Ethan is ready for this shit?”
Tex nodded. “He’s comin’ into his own. It’s time to get him involved with this shit.”
“Good.”
I moved to Wrong Way. “You think your guy could handle a stakeout?”
“Yep.”
“Good, call him. Get him in a car parked outside this house out of sight. He calls when the woman leaves, and we go in quiet.”
Wrong Way nodded, pulling out his phone and making the call. When that was done we got on our bikes and rode out, headed back to the clubhouse.
We all worked as a team, each man having some part in our operation to be in charge of. It was like a corporation, and I had CEOs underneath me. Not that I’d ever see any of these fuckers in a suit. That thought made me smile. It worked well for us over the years. No reason to change something that wasn’t broken.
“Update.” Brewer came up to me while I sat in the bar area of the club sucking a beer as I ran scenarios in my mind. The prospect hadn’t called so it didn’t look like we were gettin’ in the house tonight. If she didn’t get out in the morning, I’d come up with a way to make it happen.
Waiting was none of our strong suits. We liked shit done and fast.
“Yeah.”
Brewer started. “First, no bugs detected anywhere in the clubhouse. Lemon is tracking to see if t
hey cut into our feed, but said his system is unbreakable.”
“Right. Just like his hacking skills. That’s good news. What about the stores?”
“Two found at the main location. One by the front door and one inside. The size of a fuckin’ dime. It was the only one that had them.”
“You think whoever this is knows about the shit in the basement?”
He nodded. “That’d be my guess.”
“Fuck.” I ran my hand over my face. “We’ll need to move the shit.”
Brewer’s face twisted. “Yeah, but where?”
“Get on the phone and see if you can find buyers. That way we can unload it and not worry about it for now. Give us time to get down to the bottom of what’s going on.”
“I’ll call. There’s more.”
“Christ,” I bit out.
“Info on Blake. He does work at Cannoin Industries as stated in the report, but he’s not our guy.”
I took a swig. “How do you know this?”
“He died a year ago.”
I leaned back in the chair plopping the bottle on the table. “Fuck. That’s why everything else checked out too.” Fucker used a dead man’s information to get through to Stephanie.
“Yep. Need to make sure Goldi is checkin’ shit deeper. The first thing from now on she looks in the fuckin’ obituaries.”
“Talk to Bear about it. He’ll get her straight.”
“Right. Next, Berry Alabaster, the woman’s husband is ghost. No credit cards used, checks written, or bank withdrawals for the past four months. He’s made no electronic connection to his wife or anyone at all. No Internet footprint whatsoever. Like he’s vapor.”
“Ghost or not. We find him. Find Tommy and impress on him that this is part of our ten grand. Two people for him to find.”
He rapped his knuckles on the table. “On it and I’ll get Lemon to dig deeper on Barry.”
“Good.”
Brewer took off, and I let everything happening around me process, running through the different scenarios, trying to fit the non-existent puzzle pieces together. My brain was a damn storage closet flinging papers out of it left and right. The only times I’d gotten it to calm down was on my bike and with Rylynn.
