Lay It Down: Bastards MC Series Boxed Set (67 page)

We sat for a few minutes, enjoying the burn.

“L.K. sleepin’?”

“Yeah. She’s been overloaded with information the last few days. She’s fuckin’ exhausted, man.”

“You come clean and tell her everythin’?”

I nodded. “Everything I could.”

“And she stayed with your dumbass? Huh.” He smiled. “Must be the great sex I keep hearing.”

I flipped him off. “Did you get Taylor where she needed to go?”

“Interesting change of topic, from one fiancée to the other.”

Wow, he was on a roll tonight, the fucker.

He took a long pull off his whiskey, trying to hide his smile behind the glass. “Yep.”

“You’re not gonna tell me where you dropped her off, are ya?”

Another sip. “Nope.”

I chuckled, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. “So which brother is it?”

He arched an eyebrow.

“She’s obviously been goin’ to the clubhouse in the middle of the night. No way in hell the senator’s security wasn’t all over her. The only place she’d go that would make them think she was meeting me is the clubhouse. So which brother is she fucking?”

Rob stared at me, expressionless. “Does it matter?”

“No. I just want to shake that motherfucker’s hand and warn him she’s seriously crazy.”

He laughed. “He already knows.”

I leaned forward, glass still in hand. “Holy shit! It’s you, isn’t it? I knew you two were getting close!”

Rob choked on his drink. “Fuck no! I gots my hands full with the two I’ve got! But every brothah knows she’s bat-shit crazy, and whoevah he is, he’s gonna have his hands full.”

I laughed. I let the humor surround us for a few minutes before I asked what was really on my mind. “Anything on the stalker?”

He shook his head. “Not one damn thing. We talked about it, and Taylor promised that for the next few weeks, she wouldn’t go anyweah alone. I put Preach on her.”

I tipped my head, concerned at his choice of a guard.

He rolled his eyes. “No, I don’t think she’s fucking Preach. But he’s the only one who won’t kill her in the meantime. She’s a wicked pain in the ass.”

“Someone’s really following her?”

“Yeah, it’s real.” He finished off his whiskey. “I’m calling court first thing in the mornin’.”

I swallowed the last few drops in my glass then refilled it. “You think it’s related?”

“It could be. Fuck, Mateo. First Ellie was attacked. We have one missin’ ol’ lady. Now Taylor’s being followed. It seems like too much to just be a coincidence. I’d order a lockdown, but we have nothin’ to go on. Not a single threat, not one fucking lead. I’m goin’ crazy trying to figure this shit out.”

I sat up. “Should I send Jo and the kids home?”

“No. They’re better off here with us. Especially until we figure this out.”

I nodded, agreeing completely. “You headed to the clubhouse tonight?”

He turned back to the city before answering. “Naw. I need to think. It’s right there, I know it is.”

I leaned back into the cushions, getting comfortable. “Okay. Let’s figure it out then.”

***

I stifled a yawn as Jo refilled my coffee mug and offered me a sexy smile that made me want to throw her over my shoulder and run down the stairs. It had only been a few nights since we’d been together, but it was too long for me—especially when I’d found her brushing her teeth dressed in nothing but my shirt this morning. The thought of it riding up the backs of her legs as she bent to spit was enough to make me hard, and I tried to adjust discreetly.

Dean caught my eye as Jo moved on to fill his cup, and he gave me a knowing smirk. A quick look around the table assured me that no one else had seen it. The kids were laughing and talking amongst themselves, and Rob looked as exhausted as I felt.

We’d stayed on the deck until the sun came up, going over every single enemy we’d made and trying to figure out who could be behind this. All the threats we’d gotten over the years had been clear—they’d either been stupid enough to leave tracks or brave enough to claim responsibility. There was something we were missing now, and we both knew it.

I had the kids clear the table after we were done eating while I pulled Jo into the roof stairway so we could have a few seconds of privacy. She giggled and hooked her arms over my shoulders. I yanked her closer, leaning down to run my tongue over her collarbone. I wanted to kiss every square inch of her, but I knew that if I started, I would never stop, so I pulled back and held her close to my chest.

“Are you sure you’re okay taking the kids without me?” I asked.

I felt her head move. “It’ll be fine, honey. Cris said she’d meet us there, and Dean’s skipping court to come with us. We’ll miss you though.”

“I shouldn’t be long. I’ll meet you at the gym this afternoon, right?”

She backed up slightly and put her chin on my chest. “Right. Stop worrying!” She laughed. “We’ll be fine.”

I couldn’t stop though. Rob had called court, and as VP, I had to be there. Jo and the kids had decided not to wait for me and to go to the aquarium with Cris instead. Dean had wisely informed us he was missing court because he didn’t want Jo taking all three kids by herself, and for that, I was thankful. I didn’t think anything would happen to my family in broad daylight, but that didn’t make the uneasy feeling go away. Pair that with lack of sleep and all the demons Rocker and I had dredged up last night, and I was on edge.

The meeting wasn’t much better. There was still no sign of Pixie, and Tank was ready to go off the fucking rails. The fact that Taylor had been followed spread panic around the room like wildfire; we all knew the chances that she was the only one being tailed were small. Even though we weren’t ordering a lockdown, most of the brothers decided to move their families into the house anyway. When the people you loved most in the world were in danger, there were never enough precautions to keep them safe.

We did have some suspects, people that thought we’d wronged their loved ones: a group of dirty cops we’d gotten fired five years ago, and Carlos. Everyone around me was wound up as we decided to break into groups and track each one of those fuckers down until we had answers.

Dean would stay on my kids, unless they were staying at the clubhouse. Tank would be stationed here to keep an eye on things—he was too unpredictable to go out in the community right now—and the rest of us would stagger shifts. I didn’t want to leave Jo, not for even a minute, but I knew she’d come to the clubhouse and be okay. I hadn’t thought about it before, but when I realized that Taylor was a target because we had a very public relationship and that there was no reason for anyone to connect Jo to me, I was immediately relieved.

As the meeting closed and the brothers filed out, Bear kept the officers back. He waited for the door to close then faced us all. “There’s one name not on that list.” He stared at me then at Tank. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but first El. Then Pixie. Now Taylor. The marks on the forehead. How do you not see the pattern? He’s coming after the three of us, not the club.”

“Because of Providence?” Tank asked as my stomach dropped. “No way in hell.”

I’d thought about it but hadn’t wanted to be the one who made the connection. I didn’t want it to be a possibility. Because I wasn’t sure how it would end if it was him.

Rob looked down the table. “Wiz? Is there any way to look back through security footage to see if Pixie had been followed? Maybe if she was, we can finally have the connection.”

Wiz looked thoughtful. “There might be, depending on how long the city keeps their files. I’m on it.” He turned his attention to the tablet in front of him and began tapping away.

I looked at the men sitting around the table. We were all wearing the same irritated expression. That dick had been a source of worry for us for years. Outside of this room, only a handful of people knew what had really happened that night. Everyone here knew though, and they all supported us.

Scott Dyer was the grandson of some down-on-his-luck immigrant who moved to America, struck gold, and became an oil tycoon. Not much older than me, Scott had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and grew up entitled and spoiled. Unfortunately, he was also a demented soul. We’d dug up file after file of cases that were buried because good old grandpa threw money at them, paying every injured party off instead of having his beloved heir face the consequences of his actions. Even his parents had gotten fed up at some point and sent him to boarding school in Europe to scare him straight.

The plan backfired though, because Dyer became friends with men just like himself and some who were much worse. When his grandfather finally kicked the bucket, Scott inherited millions and moved back home. Men with his sadistic tastes couldn’t just quit cold turkey and forget the life they’d once led. On the outside, he looked like a model citizen. He donated to every charity Boston had, hobknobbed with the local celebrities, and was friendly with the most powerful men in the city.

When he married a middle-aged single mom, their rags-to-riches fairy tale made the gossip sites. When he beat her the first time, no one batted an eye. When it happened the second, third, and fourth time, the police failed to respond to the frantic 9-1-1 calls her daughter made, and when the woman was rushed to the emergency room, all evidence conveniently disappeared. No one would help her. Until her ex-husband came to us.

Almost a year later, she met with us, and her once-beautiful body was marred with the scars Dyer’s treatment had left. She was shaking when we walked into the room, but I didn’t know if it was because she was afraid of us or terrified for her teenaged daughter. According to his friends, Dyer had taken his stepdaughter on a dream European holiday while her mother got the psychological help she needed because of all the lies she’d told about him. It was a great cover story.

Funny thing though. To get to Europe, one needs to fly. Dyer’s private jet hadn’t left the airstrip in months. We started digging, knowing that whatever we found would have to be dealt with internally. The police would be no help.

It was hard to dig up, but what we discovered made us sick. Not only did he have all his grandpa’s money, but he’d made his own fortune in an international sex slave trade, selling women to the highest bidder. Most of his sales came with a guarantee that they’d been “tested out” and listed how much pain they could handle. There were even pictures that caused more than one of us to lose our lunch. I’d taken one peek, and my stomach revolted instantly.

Hawk had called his dad, convinced that this was something that needed law enforcement’s attention. But once again, Dyer’s money slammed doors in our faces. There was no way to help those girls now, but Wiz ran their photos through every missing child database there was, because we wanted a name to go with the face. And we broke into groups, each going to one of Dyer’s properties in the city. We wanted to find him before his stepdaughter disappeared for good.

Every single place we checked was empty. But then Hawk’s dad came through and sent Hawk and Rob to a detective’s house. A detective who knew more about Dyer and his activities than he should have because he’d been too involved. After a little friendly persuasion, he gave them an address. Wiz pulled it up on his computer. It looked like an old abandoned building, and since my group was the closest, we went to check it out.

We really thought it was going to be another dead end. But if it wasn’t, the plan was to go in, grab her, and bring her back to her mom. And put a bullet in his head on the way out.

Instead, we found the heavily guarded American hub of his trade. The same place he’d held, and tortured, every single woman and girl he’d kidnapped over the last few months. As well as the bodies of the ones who couldn’t withstand the pain he’d caused.

I didn’t know how many people I killed that night or how many times I magazines I went through. I could say, without a doubt, that we rescued seven women. Seven out of fifty. I wished we’d been able to save more, but I would always look at the seven as a success. And I’d forever mourn the loss of the women I couldn’t save.

When we realized what we’d walked in on, Bear started breaking the locks on the cages while Tank and I searched for the stepdaughter. Some of the women were too weak to walk on their own, others were too terrified to leave because the threat of punishment was greater than the idea of freedom, and worst of all were the ones who were severely injured and begged us to kill them. Bear took it on himself to carry them out, one at a time, promising the others that he would be back. Torn between helping him rescue them and looking for the girl, I’d only managed to lug two to safety before the screaming started.

Tank found the daughter, but he also found the men abusing her. His gunshots brought men running in herds, all armed to the teeth and ready to kill, or die, protecting not only their boss but his high-profile customers.

From that point on, the details get fuzzy. I can remember holding a woman as she took her last breath; in her chest was a hole that had been intended for me. I pulled a woman from a kennel, even though she screamed, kicked at me, and tried to hold on. Once she was out, I wrapped her in my arms, assuring her everything would be okay, and carried her out. There were the faces of women we couldn’t rescue, and the ones I saved with a bullet instead of my hands.