The lounge was much the same as he pushed open the door, and Doc hurried through to the back meeting room. Shakespeare was just rising to his feet as Doc pushed through the door. Shakespeare pushed his ultra-slim laptop open, grinning as Doc found his sheet. “Nice of you to join us, Brother.”
Doc looked over to Vlad, taking the temperature of the room, but their president merely inclined his head toward him and then gestured at Shakespeare to continue. Doc let out a breath and flopped into his seat. Looked like he’d avoided getting into shit. He focused his attention on Shakespeare as the man hooked his computer up to a tiny box. He clicked a button, and the content of his screen appeared on the far wall. Doc let out a low whistle. Despite his profession, he’d never been a tech whiz. Working with his hands to save a life, literally holding someone’s heart in his hands—that was what made him feel alive. Shakespeare, on the other hand, lived and breathed tech. There wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, and his gadgets surprised Doc constantly. Like this one. How such a tiny box could project the image on the entire wall was beyond him, but it was damn effective.
The levity fell off Shakespeare’s face as he leaned forward to press a button on his keyboard, pulling up what looked like a police report. A small rock settled in Doc’s stomach. Shakespeare was one of the most even-tempered guys he knew. Even when he’d been bleeding all over the clubhouse floor, he’d still tried to make Doc feel better, cracking a joke or two while he was being stitched up. The look on his face now—Doc didn’t like it. At all.
Shakespeare leaned forward and clicked, and the image zoomed to an image in the file, the face of a young girl filling the screen. The upturned collar of a white shirt peeked up in the corner of the photograph. A school uniform? The girl looked like she was ten years old, twelve at the most. Long braids ran down her head, her smile lighting up the screen. Doc glanced around the club. No one was returning it. Expressions ran from confusion to concern, but everyone had clued in that this was nothing good.
“This is Jade Williams,” Shakespeare said, his voice low. “She’s a ten year old from a suburb over. Attends St. Mary’s.” He planted his hands on the desk, the computer between them, and looked up, meeting the gaze of every member of the club before settling on Vlad. “She disappeared last month, walking home from soccer practice. She was seen leaving the grounds, but somewhere between school and her home she just”—he pushed upward, crossing his arms across his chest—“disappeared. Despite an intensive search, Jade hasn’t been seen since. No school bag, no video footage. It’s like she just disappeared into thin air.”
Doc frowned and looked over at Vlad. The man looked furious. Yes, there was definitely something he didn’t know. He’d felt at home with the Kings quickly, in part due to the president and he sharing his most important value: never raise a hand to a woman. Yeah, the members of Steel Kings were all men. They were an MC. While there were a growing number of female members of clubs across the country, and even a few that were women only, clubs were still predominantly men. But some of them, like the Jokers, weren’t the kind of men the Kings were. Not by a long shot. Misogyny was putting it mildly. For some MCs, women were good for only two things: cooking and fucking. Others were outright violent. Doc abhorred it all. Women were a treasure, people to be protected and honored. The Kings were looked after like royalty by Old Maggie and yeah, there were still sweet butts, but each one wanted to be there and was treated with the utmost respect. Vlad insisted upon it, and would kick anyone’s ass—and out of the club—if they ever did anything to hurt a woman under the club’s protection.
Doc leaned forward. “How do you know this is something to do with us?”
Shakespeare’s face darkened. He pressed a button on his keyboard and an identikit image filled the screen. It was a crude sketch done by someone in the police department, but the rock in Doc’s stomach turned to a boulder. He’d recognize that face anywhere, and it had only been a month since he’d seen it for real. The man had been dragged, kicking and screaming, across the parking lot of the steel King’s compound after Merc had brought him back for questioning in Stacy’s kidnapping. And now the same face was staring back at him from the computer screen.
Vlad has gone deathly still, only the whites of his knuckles gripping the chair giving him away. “This is confirmed?” He asked.
Shakespeare nodded. “The sketch was made from multiple witness statements, just no one had been able to recognize him yet.”
He nodded. “And is any of this going to blow back on us?”
Shakespeare shook his head, tapping more keys on his keyboard. “Unlikely. The guy wasn’t local, someone the Jokers called upon for their wet work.” He leaned forward again, his frown deepening. “I’m sure we all know how lucky we were that night and thankfully it doesn’t look like anyone is looking for this guy around MC haunts, at least not right now.”
Vlad nodded. Doc watched him carefully. The president’s hands had relaxed somewhat, but his body was still held tense. He sat deathly still, his face giving nothing away as he thought. Doc kept watching, waiting for the inevitable explosion, where Vlad’s long held rein on his emotions from a secret past would come tumbling out. He knew enough about what happened to know if anything was going to do it, this was it.
Instead, it was Seth who broke the silence. He looked over at Merc. “How long would it take us to get ready?”
Merc didn’t move from his chair. Instead one eyebrow slowly rose as he considered Seth’s question. “Ready for what? A scouting party or a full-on assault?”
Seth shrugged. “Maybe it’s time we went all-in with these bastards. Show them we know what they’re up to and the Kings won’t take it lying down, take any of it lying down.”
There were murmurings around the table. Doc kept watching, kept waiting. It wasn’t his place to make, or even influence, a decision like that. Besides, Lord knows he has secrets of his own, secrets that meant he had no business influencing the club’s decision. So he sat and kept his eyes on Levi.
Sticks and Merc began to talk between themselves, their voices dropped just enough so the rest of the club wouldn’t overhear. That didn’t mean that Levi missed it. He watched the pair like a hawk, his fingers steepled, elbows on the table and chin resting on his thumbs. Could he hear them? Was he actually considering starting a war? On one hand, it was long overdue. The Jokers had been fighting with them long enough for everyone to be sick of it. Some kind of stand had to be taken. But the idea of Ava being put in the firing line, her life and the life of her child being in danger, because of actions he could stop. He had to do something.
Doc pushed to his feet and opened his mouth, ready to speak, but Vlad beat him to it. The president didn’t stand. He didn’t have to do. At the sound of his voice, the quiet undertones ceased immediately. Even Merc stopped mid-sentence and turned to face him. “There will be no attack,” Vlad said. “Not today. If we do, we are no better than those assholes.” His hands dropped away, but he didn’t stand. “That doesn’t mean we do nothing. But we need to be careful.” He looked over at Doc. His expression didn’t waver, but Doc saw everything he needed to in their president’s eyes. The man knew, a fact that didn’t surprise Doc in the least. That was Vlad’s job, and he was damn good at it. Vlad moved on, his gaze landing on Merc and Seth. “That doesn’t mean we do nothing. We’re smarter than they give us credit for. Sticks, set up a team and roster for patrols. The clubhouse is not to be left unprotected, any hour of the day. Use the prospects if you need to.” He shifted slightly in his seat, turning to look at Merc. “Have Cali gather the women; old Maggie can help get them settled. Everyone’s bunking here tonight.” He stood but didn’t leave the room. Instead his attention turned to Shakespeare. “Keep digging. I want to know everything about them. Then and only then we take them by surprise and end this.”
Vlad turned and left the room. Church was over. Doc was glad. He had something he needed to do. He walked to a quiet corner of the room and pulled out his phone q
uickly dialing. “Ava, we need to talk.”
14
Ava
Ava sat on the couch, her hands wrapped around a large mug of hot chocolate. It was too late at night for coffee, and after the day she had, wine wasn’t a good idea. Though maybe she could go for something stronger. She shook her head. No, that was an even worse idea. Even though it was well into evening, she had to get up early for her shift in the morning, and she had a child in the house. Hopefully the milk would make her sleepy enough to drop off quickly once she went to bed. Unfortunately, that probably wasn’t going to happen. Though she couldn’t regret the thoughts of Connor that was swirling through ahead. Old memories mixing with new, not just pictures but his touch, his smell, so good and all male. Like the wine she was currently denying herself, Connor had definitely improved with age.
She took another sip, the warm liquid washing over her tongue. It was sweet, just like his taste had been. The way he held her, both firm and gentle all at once, with all the fear and worry over the last few days, she never felt so safe as when he wrapped her in his arms and told her everything was going to be okay. The funny thing was, she believed him. The rational side of her brain told her she was being impulsive, that they’d spent too many years apart, but while Connor had changed in many ways, the important things hadn’t. He had a tough exterior, true, but he still had a heart of gold and a protective streak a mile wide.
She smiled. Actually, some things had changed. Before, he’d been kind, considerate, holding the door open for her, treating her with little surprises. Now though, Connor acted like he was her own personal bodyguard. In a way, he was. He had rescued her when the biker at the hospital had attacked, and it seemed he’d barely taken his eyes off her since. If you’d asked her before, she would have thought it would make her feel smothered, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. That night, when he finally opened up to her, it was as if he’d been revealing his soul. Everything that happened between them, all the bad words, both said and left unsaid, had been washed away with his confession. Connor had been dealing with some dark things back then, things neither of them had known how to handle. With his words and promises, it was as if everything was new again. Ava was over focusing on the past. She wanted to get to know the new Connor, the man he was today.
But did he? The sex had been exquisite, and she thought it had meant as much to Connor as it did to her, but then he had taken off the moment he’d received a phone call. What had it meant to him? A reconnection, or just a good time with an old friend? She sighed, leaning forward and placing her drink on the coffee table. There she went again, reading far too much into a situation. The communication problems was what screwed everything up last time, and Ava was determined to avoid a repeat of that. She owed him that much. This time, she’d talk to him, lay out her feelings, and let him do with them what he would.
Her shoulders dropped, and she slumped back on the couch. She had to tell him. Otherwise this was all for naught. How could she expect him to be open with her this time if she didn’t do the same? She just had to work out a way to do it where she wouldn’t lose him all over again. It had only been a few short days, but Ava was falling in love all over again. If she lost Connor again, well, she didn’t want to think about that. Not only would her heart break for the second time, her safe harbor, her protection from those who had clearly wanted to hurt her would be gone. She wasn’t an idiot. The man who had come after her in the waiting room may well come back one day, if not about this patient, another in the future. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if Connor decided he hated her after she finally told him the truth. But that was on her. She made the decision all those years ago, and now she had to fix it. She owed him that, too.
Her cell rang, startling her out of her musings. She looked down at her phone, nerves starting at the name displayed on the screen. Connor. She took a breath and then slid to answer, trying to control the shake in her voice. Now that she’d made the decision, she was nervous as hell, both at what his reaction would be, and what telling him could mean. It would either be the start of something new, something wonderful, for both of them or the end of it all forever. She’d never know until she took the leap.
“I was just thinking about you,” she said, smiling. Everything would be okay. It had to be. She just had to get through this last bit, and then she and Connor could start planning their future, their real future. She was in it for the long haul now. That much had become obvious to her.
There was silence on the other end for several long seconds, then Connor finally spoke. She frowned. His voice was different, nothing to do with tone or volume, but just . . . different. Ava couldn’t put her finger on it, but it still prompted a visceral change in her, flooding the nerves back through her body. “Ava? We need to talk.”
“Tomorrow?” she asked. “I could meet you before my shift, and . . . ”
“No.” Just as reply was sharp and short. “It has to be tonight. Now.”
She stood, gathering her keys, and then remembered the tiny person sleeping just down the hall. Emily. How could she have forgotten, even for a second? After all, she was the reason Ava was doing all this. She still wasn’t sure if Connor would ever forgive her, but Emily deserved a chance to know her father. Even if Connor told her to go to hell, he wouldn’t turn his back on Emily. She knew that much. “I can’t leave. It’s too late to call Mrs. Bryan again, and I don’t have any other sitters yet.”
She could almost feel the tension in him down the phone. “It’s important, Ava.” His voice was quieter. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.”
Ava hesitated, just for a second, glancing down the hall toward Emily’s door. Was she really going to do this? Yes, it was time. “You can come here.”
She was thankful that it took Connor under ten minutes to arrive. Ava didn’t want to think about how many speed limits he broken, or how many times he’d nearly come off his bike with the speed he must’ve been riding at, but she couldn’t help but be glad. It meant less time for her nerves to get the better of her. And besides, the moment Connor walked through the door, it was as if he belonged there. He made her feel safe and wanted, and that was all there was to it.
She reached out and took his helmet, placing it on the side table, and then gestured to the couch. She expected him to maybe sit opposite her, but instead he sat so close their thighs were touching. There was no time like the present. “Connor, there’s . . . uh, there’s something I need . . .”
He interrupted, grabbing her hand and squeezing it so tightly she felt a twinge of pain. She looked up at him. He seemed completely unaware, which definitely wasn’t like him. She remembered his urgency, his insistence at talking with her tonight. What was going on? “Connor, what’s the matter?” She laughed, a small quiet chuckle half born of fear. “You’re starting to scare me.”
His eyes widened, and his eyebrows shot up as if he only just realized how tightly he was squeezing her hand. He dropped it, breaking the connection between them so suddenly Ava felt a sense of loss as a physical thing. He stood, running his hands through his hair, then pacing the room. She frowned. Connor never paced. He’d changed, sure, but that integrity, the parts of his personality that was so ingrained, they seemed to be the same, but she’d never seen him so flustered before. What had gotten him so worked up? She watched the emotions fly across his face, worry, trepidation, anger . . . And something she couldn’t name. If she didn’t know better, she’d almost say he was scared. Cool, calm, and collected Connor was gone, and in his place was someone she didn’t know how to read. It unnerved her. Connor hadn’t changed, his strength, his bravery, his compassion, those were parts of him that would always be there. It was why she loved him, why she always had. So then what had happened to make him look like his world had been shaken to the core?
She stood and walked over to him, stopping his pacing in its tracks and wrapped her arms around his waist. Their bodies bumped softly together as he returned her embrace, and
she couldn’t help but feel the small spiral of heat rise within her at the contact. But this wasn’t the time. He’d been there over and over again the last few days when she needed him. This was her turn to be there for him. “Whatever it is,” she said. “You can tell me. I can help.”
Regret burned in his eyes as he tugged her over to the sofa, sitting them down again. He grasped her hand again, more softly this time. “These are not good men. I told you that before.” This time, he didn’t let go of her hand, though the regret was still deep in his gaze. “God, I should never have gotten you involved in all this.” She could tell it was killing him to talk to her about any of it, but still never let go of her hand, never stopped looking straight into her eyes. “The men who attacked you a hospital, the Jokers, we knew they were into some shady shit, but until today we had no fucking idea just how bad. Ava, they took a child!” Finally, his gaze dropped away. “Her name is Jade Williams, she’s ten years old, and she’s been missing since last month. Our guy’s investigation points squarely at the Jokers.”
He stood, returning to his pacing. “How could I let this happen? I of all people should have seen it coming. I have resources, training. I’m no psychiatrist, but I know enough. People like them, they place no value on human life. They don’t care who they hurt, as long as they get what they want in the end. How I didn’t know this was the next step once we knew they were trafficking innocent women . . . I should have known, dammit!”
Ava’s heart broke for him. People didn’t think there could be a bad side to compassion, but some people paid a dear price for their strong empathy. Connor held himself to such a high standard that any perceived fault, any mistake, would never be tolerated. Never mind that he was only human, just like the rest of them. Even in med school, he blamed himself when a patient didn’t make it, and here he was more than five years later, still holding himself to a higher standard than he did anyone else, herself included.
Vengeance (Steel Kings MC Book 3) Page 8
