Venom's Secret (Iron Vex MC Book 4)

by Elizabeth Knox

  “You know I don’t know much about everything here in New York, but I’ve heard the Steele family are cousins to the Mackenzies, is that true?” Cowboy questions.

  Boss clears her throat and answers him, “Yes, the Mackenzies are the top of the Irish food chain. The Steele family are Fiona O’Dea’s children, except Madigan Steele, of course. However, Fiona has no O’Dea blood in her. She was adopted by Colin’s father, so there is no true blood relation between the O’Deas and the Steeles.” I don’t think it matters Fiona’s adopted. The Irish put family over everything and at the end of the day while she isn’t a blood born O’Dea, she’s still one of them.

  “Did you hear rumors of Vinny Falcone going missing a few years ago, after he was dating the bastard Steele sister?” Cowboy questions, obviously wanting to know more.

  Boss gives him a nod. “I have heard those rumors but I can’t speak on them. They don’t have anything to do with us.”

  “The Falcone family is still prominent here in New York, are they not?” Cowboy asks, and I look to Boss. It’s better she answers these questions.

  “They run Manhattan, we’re in Queens. So far, so good, so how about you don’t meddle into my club business and you worry about your own club.” Boss’s tone comes out laced with poison. She’s not happy and everyone in the room can see it right now. Cowboy’s the president for the Calgary, Canada charter of the Iron Vex MC, and he’s with Boss in a romantic aspect, so he’s back and forth quite a bit.

  Cowboy scoffs and says somethin’ under his breath, but I don’t pay too much attention to it. It’s not my job to get in the middle of shit between them. He ends up walkin’ past me and leaves the office. As the door clicks shut, I speak up again, “Liam give you this job or Desmond?” I’m only asking because I’m curious.

  “Liam, why?”

  “Just wondered if the old man finally passed the baton over to his eldest, seems like that happened.”

  “Yes, it appears so. Now, getting back to business. Liam’s sending them over on ships, so we’ll have to go to the port after the inspections and get the product. Then we’ll disburse it for the Irish to their dealers, and at that point we’ll be paid the remainder of our delivery fee.”

  “Okay, sounds good. Why you pulling me in here for it though?”

  Boss raises her brows. “Ricochet, I want you to take lead on this.”

  Shit. Boss hasn’t asked me to take lead on any project, ever. “Cool, anything else I need to know?”

  “Not really. The O’Dea family is going to be getting the same product since they run Boston. They’ll end up working with a club closer to them though. Liam has asked that I reach out to some allies up north, however, we don’t have any at this time. All of our allies are to the south.”

  Now, I might not be the best dude when it comes to intuition . . . but I got a good damn feelin’ a lot of the reason Boss and Cowboy have been gettin’ into spats lately is because he goes away for weeks at a time. Not only is it impacting their relationship, but it’s affecting their daughter, Destiny, too. “I have an idea. One that might solve the problem you’re having . . . if you’re open to hearing it.”

  Boss furrows her brows and gives me a nod., “If it’s a good idea, I’d be glad to. I’m always open to suggestions.”

  “Calgary isn’t really doin’ shit for us, right, I mean profit wise they’ve been costin’ us money and they have some issues up there anyway with the police. Why not bring them into Boston and set up a charter there? That way everyone from Calgary has a place to go, and they have fuckin’ income. Not to mention, Cowboy would only be two or three hours away now versus forty hours.”

  Boss takes in the suggestion I’ve said. “I’ll have to think about it. Thanks for suggesting it, and I take it you feel confident in your ability to assist when it comes to the jobs we have with the Irish?”

  “Yeah, don’t worry about me, Boss.”

  “Perfect. I’ll speak to Liam and see what he thinks, and if I decide it’s a go to transfer everyone, I’ll let Cowboy know. In the meantime, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything to anyone.”

  “No worries. Everything good, or you need me for anything?”

  “Nah, you’re good.”

  I get up and head toward the door, but Boss clears her throat so I turn back. “You sure you don’t need me for anythin’ else?”

  “I changed my mind, rally the troops and get them in church. There’s a few things we should probably discuss about the cult.”

  At that I give her a nod and head out.

  Chapter Ten

  Venom

  Ricochet came to get everyone after he met with Boss upstairs, and now we’re all in our assigned seats, waiting for our fearless leader to come walkin’ in. “She didn’t say what was up?” Muffler asks Ricochet, who shakes his head.

  “Bet it’s about the cult,” Chuckles speaks up.

  “Knowing her, probably,” Omen adds.

  “She’s fuckin’ with my good time tonight. Whatever it is, I hope she gets on with it.” Muffler grunts while Chuckles gets a kick out of it.

  “Relax, she doesn’t need to be back in my bed until nine in the mornin’. You can have your fun with my ol’ lady for the night, brother,” Chuckles cackles. I don’t know how some people are cool with swinging, but it’s what the Iron Vex MC is known for. Apparently, it’s gone back to Boss’ grandfather. He started the tradition and it’s stuck throughout the years.

  Hoodrat’s the last person to take his seat before Boss comes in, and the prospects don’t have a place in church so they stay downstairs. Boss shuts the door behind her and immediately goes over to her seat with a serious look on her face. “I just got a call from a friend. Turns out Dex was in Boston with one of the guys from the Reapers. They know what’s goin’ on with the cult, so I gave ‘em a heads up to keep their eyes open in their territories. Well, Dex and Axel saw some shit that was worrisome. I paid Beretta Bosco to go take a look and—”

  “Why the fuck you payin’ her to go check shit out? You could’ve sent one of us,” Hoodrat pipes up, and honestly, I didn’t expect him to ever cut in and interrupt Boss like that. If anyone was gonna do it, I expected it to be Muffler. He’s the resident asshole after all.

  “Stay in your lane, brother,” Omen grits, not appreciating the disrespect. Omen’s the VP, so he’s Boss’ right-hand man.

  Boss’ nostrils flare and I can tell she’s about to lose her shit on him. Yet, somehow she maintains some composure. “They know what we did to their leader. What makes you think they wouldn’t skedaddle at the sight of our cuts? It was smarter for me to send an ally of the club.”

  Hoodrat clenches his jaw and starts to speak, but his tone is callous as hell. “I d—”

  “Watch your fuckin’ tone,” Omen snarls, but Boss motions with her hand for Hoodrat to continue.

  “I don’t think we need to be involvin’ outsiders in club shit,” Hoodrat states.

  “I can respect your opinion, but that’s all it’ll ever be Hoodrat. I’m the president of this club, so at the end of the day it’s my decision. If you have a problem with that you can walk out the fuckin’ door,” Boss states clear as day and the entire room goes quiet.

  “They’re targeting college kids again?” I speak up, trying to cut through the tension in the room. Little does anyone here know the firsthand knowledge I have with this cult. One day I might fess up and tell them, but it won’t be today.

  Boss nods at my statement. “Yes, the same as they’re doing down in Virginia.”

  They lure in the ones with no family, the ones who need something, who’re searching for some sort of comfort that they’ve never been able to find. That’s the type of people they end up recruiting into their ranks, with false promises and much more. It’s only the tip of the iceberg, and by the time they’ve been brainwashed they forget about the false promises that were made to them. I only know because of my experiences and what I’ve witnessed, but unlike so many I was able
to snap out of it.

  “They’re tying them into the cult again, getting them deep in their roots,” I murmur, but it’s so low I don’t think anyone heard me. I pray no one did, because I just fucked up. I shouldn’t have even let that shit through my lips.

  Boss draws her brows together as she looks at me. “Tying them how?”

  “Maybe marriage, children, probably using the things they love as leverage. Think about it, how else would an organization like them last this long?”

  The entire room stays quiet and Boss nods her head slowly. “Makes sense. Venom brings up a good point, we need to look further into their history, see what else we can discover about them without alerting them we’re onto a couple of their operation points. We have confirmed sightings or repetitive behavior in a few states now.”

  They work like a hydra. You cut off one head, and ten more will appear. Boss quickly switches the topic of discussion and I hope my slip up goes unnoticed, but as I glance up, I notice one man has his eyes on me, and I’m not sure if it’s because he fucked me in the stairwell earlier, or if it’s because he heard what I said.

  Chapter Eleven

  Ricochet

  It’s been a week since Venom and I fucked in the stairwell at the club, and to say shit’s been easy between us would be a lie. Now don’t get me wrong, we’re still goin’ to Frank’s gym and over to Mamie’s every day, but there are a lot of lingerin’ stares and silent moments between us. The last real chemical reaction we had was a week ago, and ever since I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about the way I had her pinned up against the wall.

  Even now, I’m sittin’ at a bar while she and Reno are finishin’ up a job. Her bike’s gettin’ some new specs so I offered to take her home tonight. Hell, not like I was gonna let Reno offer. I know where his fuckin’ head is at.

  We’ve shared dinner a few times over the last week and in doing so I’ve learned a little bit more about her, more than I’ve ever known. She ended up tellin’ me she’s from a small town in rural Kansas, and her first name’s Vanna. Gettin’ the information from her wasn’t easy though. She didn’t want to give it up, which put a sour taste in my mouth. The woman knows almost everythin’ about me and yet couldn’t share something as simple as her first name? Fucked up if you ask me.

  Still, somethin’ doesn’t feel right. I caught her slip up last week in church. In all honesty her mess up the other day had me analyzing some past conversations.

  They’re tying them into the cult again, getting them deep in their roots.

  Her words have replayed in my mind more times than I care to admit. She spoke like she knew facts about them, and while I want to believe if she did have firsthand knowledge about them, she would’ve said somethin’ . . . there’s a part of me that thinks Vanna’s hiding something. I don’t know what her secret is, but if I had to guess I’d say she’s a victim of the cult, that they took someone away from her. I haven’t asked her flat out ‘cause I’m givin’ her the opportunity to tell me, but she’s pretty much left me with no choice.

  No choice when it comes to what I’m doin’ right now. I scroll on my phone to Google and take a photo of her I took the other day, then do a reverse image search. While I doubt, she had a dermal piercing in the past or violet hair, I’m sure she must look the same.

  I click the search button after uploading her image and wait for something to register. A multitude of hits appear before me, so naturally I tap on the first one and the headline immediately causes reason for concern.

  University of Kansas track star found dead. Authorities suspect foul play.

  Inhaling deeply, I see a much younger blonde version of Venom in the photograph attached to the article. There isn’t one piercing or tattoo visible. She just looks like a young, college girl. No, scratch that. She looks like a happy college girl.

  Scanning my eyes over the article, I read the entire thing.

  University of Kansas track star, Vanna Markle, found dead. Authorities are suspecting foul play at this time due to the nature in which her remains were found. If anyone has any information on what happened to Ms. Markle, you’re encouraged to reach out to Detective Jack Lawson.

  Ms. Markle was reported missing two weeks ago by her friend and fellow member of the track team, Tasha. When Ms. Markle disappeared it was only a week before her twenty-first birthday. A time where the two women should’ve been celebrating, but sadly it’s turned sour.

  Ms. Markle leaves behind a daughter, Peyton, whom she shares with her widow, Eric Markle.

  How can this be? Vanna isn’t dead. In fact, she’s standing in front of the stage right now, staring down the crowd while she’s working, protecting this comedian who’s makin’ the whole fuckin’ place bust out into laughter.

  I tap back on the screen and look at the other photographs, all a new rendition of the article I read just moments ago. I read through them all until I see an update on Eric and Peyton Markle, stating that after no answers were found they moved to Wyoming for a fresh start. Only there’s a photo attached of the guy with the little girl, who can’t be more than three. She has the blondest hair I’ve ever seen and instantly those bright green eyes her momma has shine back at me. Now her husband looks like a real creep, and my eyes slowly drift over to the stage where Venom’s working. Why would she keep this from me? What would be the fuckin’ point in doin’ that?

  I can’t put this together in my head, no matter what, I can’t figure out why she would’ve kept this from me, why she wouldn’t have said anything.

  Venom isn’t just my best friend, she’s the woman I could envision my entire future with. Fuck, I’ve never said that about anyone, but her . . . she calls to me in a way no other chick ever has.

  Man, I’m aggravated, but I know I need to put my feelings aside. There must be a reason for what she’s done and later tonight I’ll find out what her reasoning is. I only have to give her the benefit of the doubt until then.

  Chapter Twelve

  Venom

  The sooner I get away from this dude on stage, who thinks he’s fuckin’ hysterical, the better. I normally work concerts, sometimes there’s a few intimate shows thrown in here and there, but man, a comedy routine? At first, I thought this was gonna be a great night, how I might even get a few laughs in, but the guy with the spotlight on him must be in his early twenties and his entire routine is immature. I haven’t laughed once tonight, and I doubt I will.

  He finishes his set and the crowd applauds him while he says his goodbyes. Reno and I both make sure he gets backstage safely and we watch the crowd disburse. Our job is to make sure no one jumps on stage to be with the dude and then we’re crowd control, makin’ sure they get their asses out of the venue safely.

  After another thirty minutes, Reno and I are off the clock. Thank God, I’m exhausted and I’m damn ready for a bite to eat. My stomach grumbles loudly as I approach Ricochet, who’s giving me a ride back to the club since Hoodrat’s been workin’ on my bike the last couple days.

  “Hey,” I murmur, sitting on the barstool directly beside him.

  “C’mon, let’s go,” Ricochet says with a grumble. He immediately stands up and starts walking off in the direction of the entrance. I blink at him in disbelief as he reaches the doorway, and he quickly disappears up the stairwell that leads to the street.

  “Shit, what’s his problem?” Reno asks, and I know they haven’t been on the best of terms since they had that tiff, but . . . I’m so lost right now.

  “No idea,” I murmur lowly, starting to make my way through the crowd to follow him. A tug at my wrist causes me to look back and Reno rakes his eyes up and down my body, the same way he did the other day.

  “You need a ride?” I know what he’s asking right now. He’s asking for an opportunity to step on Ricochet’s toes, for a chance to dive deep inside me, but it isn’t something I’m going to give him.

  Shaking my head, I pull my hand away from Reno’s and head after Ricochet, needing to know what the hell’s got
ten into him tonight. He wasn’t acting this way earlier when he brought me here. No, he was being silly, grazing his hand against the small of my back and gave me looks that made me think he wanted another repeat of last week.

  I make it out onto the street and head straight over to where he parked his bike. There’s no way he’d go anywhere but straight there. It’s the most important thing in his life. “Ricochet, what the hell is going on?”

  “Nothin’, I’m just tired, so can we leave or what? That fucker kept yapperin’ away all night long and he wasn’t even funny.” Figuring Ricochet’s just in a bad mood I nod my head and fall in line. He gets on his bike and I get on behind him. He hands me my helmet while fastening his and I secure it. But, he whips off out of nowhere and I barely catch on in time.

  He weaves in and out of traffic which is unusual for him. He’s the staple of the club when it comes to being cautious on the roads, always saying how it only takes one idiot to kill us. I tighten my arms around his waist a bit more, needing to feel a bit more secure with the way he’s driving. Sure, it makes me nervous but I trust him. He knows what he’s doing.

  It feels like a mere blink of the eyes and we’re back at the clubhouse. He hits the button for the garage bay where he parks his bike to open and then enters, kicks his stand up, and turns off his bike. I don’t move at first, waitin’ to see if he’s going to act normal or not right now, but he doesn’t. He’s acting so odd and I don’t know what to think about it.

  “Rico,” I speak with calmness in my tone, hoping he’ll take me seriously. I figure he’ll sit here with me and we can talk, because there’s a killer feeling in my stomach. I know something isn’t right. I don’t know how . . . but it’s weighing down my gut. Sometimes you just know, and right now is one of those moments.