The Biker's Secret Torment: MC Romance: Talon (Rosesson Brothers) (9 page)

"Should we go to the cops?" Crystal asked.

I took a deep breath. I knew what Whitey and Whip would say, and it wasn't what I was going to say. "Yeah, I think we should."

"When?"

"I don't know. The sooner the better, but I feel like I need a breather."

Crystal nodded, and went back to watching the TV, letting me go back to watching her.

Did I say I needed a breather? Shit, more like an hour. Better yet, twenty-four hours, but I had a bad felling I wasn't going to get any of that.

Talon

I dozed for what felt like an hour, then came awake with a jerk as I remembered Knox had sent something to the clubhouse for me. Where was it? Probably in my old room. Instantly alert, I stood up. "I gotta check something in my room."

"I'm coming with you," Crystal said, turning off the TV.

I could tell before I even opened the door that there was a party in full swing going on in the common area. Music blared, women laughed, men shouted. It was nothing unusual but not something I wanted to deal with right now. For some reason I hated the idea of Crystal being at the clubhouse during a party. I didn't want her to see what went on, even though I knew she probably had before. More than that, I didn't want her to ever hook up with any of the guys from the club. She was too good for them. For us.

She'd said a few times in the past that she would never date a biker, but she'd been mad at her dad or her brother each time, so I couldn't be sure if it was real or bullshit.

I pushed open the door and grabbed her hand, intent on pulling her through the room as quickly as possible. Shouts of greeting rang through the room, for both of us.

I kept my head down and pushed my way through the crowd, then heard something that set my teeth on edge.

"Hey, Crystal, why don't you come over here and sit on my face!"

I shook my head and turned toward the offender. Rush. Drunk, of course. He was the nicest guy in the world when he was sober, but drunk, he turned into a totally different person. It didn't do any good to beat his ass when he was drunk either, because he just took it, apologized when he was sober again, then did the same damn thing the next time he mixed beer and tequila.

That wasn't going to stop me from teaching his drunk ass a lesson though. He should have known better. Crystal was off-limits. For many reasons.

Before I could take a step in his direction, Crystal fired back, "Why? Is your nose bigger than your dick?"

Laughter erupted in the room as men slapped Rush on the back and whistled. Crystal could take care of herself.

I smirked and continued to push past the hordes of laughing bikers. When I got Crystal into the hallway that led to the bedrooms I stopped and turned to her, a smile on my face.

"You got some lip on you, Gidge."

She took a step closer to me, stood on tiptoes, and with a whisper-soft voice said, "I have two sets of lips, Talon. Which ones are you thinking about?" She touched her tongue very lightly to her top lip, then dropped down flat-footed and walked away from me, pulling her hand out of mine.

Fuck. She boiled my brain and turned my cock to iron with nothing but a few words. My dreams from the night before came flooding back to me and I saw myself rush her, push her against the wall, tear those tight jeans off of her, and be inside her in one hard thrust. Would she protest? Like it? Fucking love it? In my imagination, she couldn't get enough. In my dreams, she was my very own cock-sucking fanatic, stopping only to eat and sleep.

I shook my head and bit my tongue, hard. She was Whip's daughter. Jaze's sister. And so far out of my league it hurt. Sure, recent events had made me wonder if she might be interested in a round of rough sex with the veteran biker, but I knew she would just be slumming with me. Not pity sex. More ... experimentation? Wanting to sow her oats, get it out of her system before she found her real man? Who would probably be another doctor. An intellectual who read textbooks for fun and drank fucking tea for image. A good boy who would give her two kids, a polite roll in the hay twice a week in their mansion, and never raise his voice.

Crystal could ride a hog like a man and had a tongue like a razor, but she'd always been better than her father, than her brother, than all of us in the club. Even if she didn't know it.

I watched her ass as it disappeared into my old room.

A slum fuck was better than no fuck at all, right? Something I could remember her by when she disappeared into the suburbs and never came to see us anymore?

I started walking, unable to believe I was even thinking about her in that way. Her last name was still Santee, and if there was one thing I would never do, it was betray her brother and her father.

Besides, it was time to come clean.

In about two minutes, the last thing on either one of our minds would be fucking.

Crystal

I walked into Talon's room and sat down on his immaculately-made bed, my heart pounding in my chest. Had I really just said that to him? I felt heat flood my cheeks as I played back the look in his dark eyes. He'd been surprised. But totally into it. Maybe.

I looked out the window at the high fence surrounding the clubhouse, so he didn't see me blushing when he came in.

He entered slowly and went straight to his desk. I watched him pick up a manila envelope and open it.

So we weren't going to mention it. Good. I could act like it never happened. Relief and disappointment flooded me equally.

"I have to tell you something, Crystal, something bad."

The gloom in his voice scared me worse than being shot at on the road. All thoughts of flirting fled my mind. I looked straight at him, waiting. He held the manila envelope in his hands, bending and creasing it. I'd never seen his strong face look quite so lost.

"I should have told you this when it happened, but your dad wouldn't let me. He was afraid it would mess with your grades."

"What is it?" I asked, my fingers curling into my palms.

"It's Jaze, he's missing."

"Missing!"

Talon nodded and I felt my heart drop into my feet.

"For how long?" I whispered.

"This is day twenty-eight."

I stood up, my hands finding my hair and pulling as I paced back and forth in the room. "My brother has been missing for a month and I'm just now hearing about it?"

"That's not the worst," Talon said and I stopped to look at him.
What could possibly be worse?

But when he spilled it, all of it, I knew what could be worse. Someone had set them up. Jaze could be dead. My emotions threatened to swallow me. It had barely been six weeks since I'd buried my mother, now I find out that my brother had been missing, and someone attacked me too? What was going on?

"That's why your dad went to Arizona. He wouldn't tell me any details, but he's supposed to be looking into someone who might be responsible."

I shivered and pulled my phone out of my pocket. Maybe daddy wouldn't tell Talon anything, but damned if he was going to pull that shit with me. I dialed his cell number, anger threading through me when he answered.

"Daddy, Talon just told me Jaze is missing. What in the hell is going on?"

He didn't say anything for a minute and when he finally did speak, I could tell he was choosing his words carefully, like I was a piece of china he had to protect. Either that or he was lying.

"Crystal, it's ok. We don't know exactly what's going on. But we're going to find him. I promise you that. He's going to be ok." I waited, for him to go on, and when he did, everything I thought I knew about my dad shattered. "For all we know he's just off on a little adventure. Maybe he found a girlfriend."

"Seriously?" I whispered, all the breath gone from my lungs. "Lying to me daddy? Talon told me everything. He told me about the threats and Jaze shot in the back of the truck."

The silence stretched out for longer this time, like a thick taffy that would drown us both. "Sweetheart," he said, and his voice was off. Like he was sad or mad, or maybe he thought I was still five and believed Santa Claus was real. "I didn't mean to lie to you. I just don't want you to worry. I wanted to find him before I ever had to tell you anything."

"Well you didn't. So tell me now. Who did it? What are you looking for? What should we be looking for?"

I heard movement and rubbing sounds, like he was covering the phone. Then the line cleared again.

"Listen, Crys, I've got to go. Something's going down here. There's nothing you guys can do anyway. Just stay in the clubhouse. I'll be home tomorrow and I'll tell you everything then."

"Daddy! Don't hang up, what about the guy who ch—"

Too late. I realized the line was empty. I stared at the phone in shock. Jaze was missing, Mom was dead, and now my own father was acting like I was an afterthought, someone who couldn't handle the truth.

I squeezed the phone tight and stared at Talon, who was watching me closely. "He wouldn't tell me anything."

Talon nodded. "Me too. I don't know what's going on."

"Talon," I whispered, dropping my phone onto the bed. My fingers shook slightly so I curled them into my palm. "Do you think whoever got Jaze killed Mom too?"

Talon looked stricken, and he raised a calloused hand to his head, then blew out a breath. "I don't know. I hadn't thought of that until you just said it."

I paced through the room, the thought burning me. When I turned back to Talon, he had pulled a piece of paper out of the manila envelope and sat down at the desk to study it.

"Something else strange, Crystal," he said without looking at me. I walked over to him to read over his shoulder.

"I asked a friend about the building where we lost Jaze, and he said public records show it belongs to your dad."

"Where is it?"

Talon pointed at the address on the tax deed in front of him. 411 E. Frontier St.

"That's in the old industrial area. I didn't know he owned any buildings there."

"He owns the bar, and this clubhouse, right? Anything else that you know of?"

"He owns the bar. Him and Whitey have a partnership that owns the clubhouse. But that's all I ever thought was his."

Talon made a mmmhmm sound, his finger running down each box, looking for more clues. I zipped down the columns then gave up. I picked up the envelope to see what else was in there, mostly so I didn't have to think about what I had just learned. Five more sheets of paper.

I pulled them out and quickly realized the first four were my father's criminal history. Everything he'd ever been arrested for in his life. Assault. Terroristic Threatening. Assault with a deadly weapon. Reckless Driving. Attempted murder. More.

I'd always known Dad had a criminal past, and we'd figured the club used to be straight outlaw, even though these days they tried to stay clean, but I never thought my dad had murdered anyone. Or tried to. Unfortunately the papers didn't give any more details than the charge. I flipped to the very back and to the front again, my eyes scanning the pages to get an idea of how many charges were on each page. Twelve, I decided. Twelve times four was forty-eight. My father had been arrested at least forty-eight times in his life. That seemed excessive to me, especially since I didn't think he'd been arrested more than once in the last ten or fifteen years. I dropped the pieces of paper on the envelope on the desk, feeling bile rise up in my throat. I would look through the charges later.

The last sheet of paper stared at me and I stared back. The way this was going, I would probably be better off shoving it in the trash can. I still wanted to be able to love my father. He could be all I had left. A tear tracked down my face, tickling my cheek, and I wiped it away angrily. I hated to cry.

I studied the last piece of paper as I noticed Talon pick up the ones I had dropped. The letterhead read Uniform Insurance. As I read, I realized it was a deed stating the beneficiaries of a life insurance policy for my mother. The amount jumped out at me.

One million dollars. Holy crap.

My eye scanned the page until I found the beneficiaries. Me. And my brother. We were to split it. A sour taste filled my mouth. I didn't want money because my mom died. I wanted her back. Wanted to try to figure out what had made her unable to love us very much. Maybe if I had her back I could manage to swallow my own pride and be the one to love her first, to teach her how to do it.

More tears tried to form in my eyes. I wiped them ruthlessly away. My gaze fell to the final line on the page, which was a box for a secondary beneficiary. An in the event-of beneficiary. Who got the money if me and Jaze were dead too.

My dad.

I dropped the paper and ran out of the room, hating myself for the split second thought that had run through my head. The thought that I never wanted to think again. The thought that I absolutely would never acknowledge again, no matter what.

My daddy didn't kill my mother, and there was no way he was trying to kill me.

Crystal