Wild Ways (15 page)

She’d pinned all of her hopes on finding Brick, and now she was back at square one. Maybe even square half. But he wasn’t giving up on Brick just yet. Julian had been watching the house, and he’d decided to leave Mollie by the bike once she calmed down and have another go at getting information from him.

“I don’t even know where the Kings’ chapters are,” she said through her tears. “They don’t have a website like the Mongols and Hell’s Angels do. I don’t know where
to go from here.”

“You don’t have to. I’m driving.”

The look she gave him, a mixture of gratitude and reverence, made him want to kiss her. And he would have, if the sound of two Harleys hadn’t made him lift his head. The chopped bikes were louder than his, but the riders would command the attention—and fear. Especially since they wore black vests with the ram’s head logo on it. The bottom rocker identified them as St. Louis boys. It didn’t put him at ease. If they were Kings, they were trouble. No doubt they’d been told about Julian and Mollie and would be happy to wipe them. Both bikes had the ape-hanger handlebars, so the patches’ arms were way up high as they steered. One had an ol’ lady on the back.

Luckily, none saw Julian and Mollie tucked beside the evergreens. She wiped her eyes as she watched them cruise by, obviously looking for an address. Brick’s address.

“They’re after Mikey, too,” Julian said. “Because he has information that’ll help us and bury them. I’m going to cut through the backyards and get to his house before they do. Stay here.”

She started to object to being left behind, but he was already gone, sprinting between the bordering shrubs to the next yard. He took the backyard route, jumping over fences and running so fast that one rottweiler had only just noticed him before Julian was out of its territory. He recognized Brick’s uncle’s side yard as he approached, slowing to assess the situation. Not a good idea to jump over the fence and find a King standing there with his gun ready.

The rumble of engines in idle thrummed through the air. Along with the sound of someone knocking loudly on a door. “Hey, Brick!”

Something caught Julian’s eye, a fleeting shadow, but he knew it was Brick slipping over the back of the fence. Julian ran around the side. No sign of him. He raced past the houses that backed up to the uncle’s street, searching for the escapee. How could a guy the size of Brick just disappear? He must know this neighborhood well. Probably had his bike stashed somewhere else.

As probable confirmation of that, Julian heard a Harley fire up in the distance. By
the time he burst out onto the street, he caught the distant silhouette of a scared man hauling ass. Julian ran back to Mollie. They’d lost Brick, but he wasn’t about to lose the Kings.

Fortunately Mollie didn’t have to face Julian after her breakdown; only his back as they rode. What the hell was that about anyway? Was his presence and support making her soft? Needy? No, she couldn’t let that happen. Any minute now he was going to get called away on a paying mission. Or lose interest. She knew how weary this search could make someone, especially with all the dead ends.

It was hard to dredge up hope as they followed the two Kings at a safe distance. She tried to get a good look at the woman on the back of one of the bikes, but her helmet obscured everything but the reddish ponytail. It was about the right length, if Di hadn’t cut her hair since she left. Her build was similar, though scrawnier.

Eventually the Kings pulled into a Walmart and parked way off to the side of the lot. They removed their helmets, but the woman wore a black bandanna. The men lit up smokes.

“Is it her?” Julian asked as they idled in another part of the lot.

Mollie bit her lip, concentrating so hard that she wondered if she was imagining Diana’s pert nose and full lips. “I can’t tell from here, especially with the sunglasses and bandana. It’s probably not her, and yet, if I didn’t make sure, I’d always wonder.”

The woman started heading toward the entrance.

“Let me go in,” Mollie said. “I have to find out.”

Julian seemed to consider it, which was rather annoying. She was used to making her own decisions. Not that she was complaining about his being there. If it weren’t for him she’d be dead. Or worse. It was an adjustment, that’s all. A nice adjustment, but still…

“All right, but be careful. And keep your phone handy. If it’s not her, you can’t ask about your sister. Even though she’s not with the Oklahoma City chapter, she may know what happened. Their people were shot at, maybe killed. It’ll no doubt be the talk
of the whole club. They’re going to be watching for us. Besides, you know she won’t say a word even if she does know where Di is.”

“I won’t ask about Di.” It would be hard not to, but she understood.

“I’ll watch the patches. When she comes back out, follow right behind her but break in our direction as soon as you exit. I don’t want to lose their tail. Don’t let the patches see you talking to her.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead. “Buy a hat before you approach her. You have a distinctive hair color.” He started to extract his wallet but she stilled him with her hand on his arm.

“I have some money.” She started trekking across the parking lot, not wanting to fall too far behind the woman. Her phone rang when she hit the midway point of the parking lot. The screen read Detective Boyd, which tightened her throat.
Don’t hope, don’t hope
. “This is Mollie,” she answered, keeping from immediately following with
Did you find her?

“It’s Detective Boyd. I wanted to check in on you, see how things were going. No more shootouts, I hope.”

“Just following leads in St. Louis. Have you found anything on your end?”

“Afraid not. Are you still with Mr. Cuevas?”

She kept an eye on the woman, who had bent down to pick up a coin. “Yes, why?”

“Are you free to talk?”

“I’m not with him at the moment, if that’s what you mean.”

“Has he asked for money or anything in return for his assistance?”

“Just the opposite. He’s been paying for everything.” And he’d offered her pleasure without asking for anything in return, but she sure wasn’t going to mention that.

“Good. But I still want you to be on guard. I did a little investigating, verified that he is indeed a SEAL. My cousin is one, too, so I touched base with him. Remember when I said his edge went beyond the norm? Cuevas and his team were abruptly discharged from service. They were involved in an unprovoked attack on a compound in Mexico. He wouldn’t say much about it, but I did some checking based on that. It was in the news a
couple of months ago, a team went rogue and killed innocent people. Including women and children. You might’ve seen it on the news.”

Mollie paused at that, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I haven’t been paying attention to much in the last few months. My life has pretty much revolved around my sister. Are you saying that Julian is dangerous?”

“Well, I think that’s obvious. The real question is, is he dangerous to you? I can’t answer that. Has he acted volatile? On edge?”

“Not at all.” She entered the store a few yards behind the biker woman. “He’s been …” Amazing. Tender. Arousing. Yes, definitely dangerous to her heart, anyway. “A gentleman. Responsible, protective.” He’d also been evasive about his military career. She could remember at least one time that he’d skirted the topic.

“I have the utmost respect for our guys in the military,” Boyd said. “But they’ve been through a lot. Killing people, getting shot at, it changes a man. I wish you’d call off your search and go home. At least break off with him. He might be responsible now, but something could trigger him.”

Mollie remembered Julian’s nightmare and how he’d been about to reach for his gun. Just as he’d warned her. “Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll be careful. I have to go.” She disconnected but kept her phone in hand per Julian’s instructions.

He knew everything about her, but he hadn’t trusted her enough to tell her about this mission. She clung to that, and the fact that she probably shouldn’t trust him either. It felt much better than the longing to be in his arms again. To be held … and more.

Mollie spotted the woman, who was heading toward the automotive section. Her gait wasn’t quite like Di’s, but she couldn’t give up hope. She made a quick side trip toward a clearance bin with floppy fabric hats. After putting one on and tucking the tag up under the brim, she headed over in that direction.

People gave the biker woman a wide berth and judging stares. She didn’t seem particularly bothered by it. She wore a black vest, too, and a patch announced that she was the property of Fat Bob. The thought of being considered property made Mollie shudder. She stepped around the end of the aisle and felt her heart thud at the sight of the
woman perusing the shelves. Mollie pasted on a neutral expression and purposefully grabbed one of the packages of spark plugs.

The woman glanced up but shifted her gaze back to the many types of motor oil. Not Di. Mollie’s heart sank despite her preparations for disappointment. This woman was in her thirties, Mollie guessed, and looked road weary. Her face appeared much older, her skin pocked and sallow. The hair color was clearly a dye job.

It was so damned hard not to ask her about Di. But another inquiry pushed at her that wasn’t directly related to Di. Mollie moved closer. “Excuse me, can I ask you something?”

The woman seemed surprised that anyone was talking to her. Surprised and wary. “You can ask.” Her voice was rough and gravelly, and she smelled like cigarettes.

“My sister joined a biker’s club a few months ago. I tried to talk her out of it, because I didn’t—don’t—understand these clubs. It’s put a rift between us, and we haven’t talked in several weeks.” Her gaze went to the “property of” patch. “I’m trying to understand the appeal of being considered property.”

The woman’s mouth tightened. “You really need to talk to her ’bout it.”

“I don’t know where she is.” It didn’t take acting for tears to spring to Mollie’s eyes. “When we talk again, I want to understand so I don’t push her away.” Her voice dropped to a whisper as emotion crept in. “Tell me you’re treated well and that you’re happy. She’s all I have in the world, and I miss her so much.”

The woman seemed to consider Mollie for a few seconds, and then her hard mouth twitched at the corner. “Don’t cry, girlie. Look, it ain’t paradise and I ain’t treated like a queen. But now that I’ve worked my way up the ladder, so to speak, to being one of the guys’ ol’ lady, it’s all right. And it ain’t a mean title; it’s actually a term of respect.” She patted her patch. “This is a badge of honor. I belong. I have value. See, all my life no one wanted me. Maybe I get hit once in a while, but I belong. And no one outside this club can touch me.” She pointed to her chest now, pride in her voice. “I have the protection of the entire Kings of Chaos behind me.”

Mollie got it. She didn’t want to, despite what she’d told the woman. She did want
to understand, but she didn’t want to
understand
, to feel exactly what this woman longed for and was willing to give up to obtain. That she did unnerved her.

Mollie took a chance and reached out to gently touch the woman’s arm. “Thank you for explaining it. I get it. We all want to belong to someone.” But no, Mollie didn’t. She’d numbed herself to that need.
Don’t think of Julian holding you all night
.

The woman narrowed her eyes as she looked at Mollie. “Is your sister with the Kings? ’Cause we had a girl come through who looked a lot like you.”

Mollie’s heart thundered. The woman didn’t appear to be hostile or alarmed, so Mollie took a chance. “She’s called Birdy.”

The woman seemed to search her memory, and her expression became guarded. “I only saw her once, maybe twice. She was passing through.” She started to turn away.

Mollie grabbed her shoulder, not a delicate gesture this time. “Please. Tell me what happened to her. I need to know. I don’t want you to get in trouble. If you could just tell me something that might help me find her, I’d be so grateful.”

The woman seemed at war with herself, her helpful nature versus her need for self-preservation. Finally she said, “She’s gone.”

Before she could move away, Mollie tightened her grip. “What does that mean?”

She huffed out a breath. “Sometimes girls get traded from chapter to chapter when they aren’t claimed.” She touched her patch again.

“Traded?” Mollie could barely utter the word. “Traded for what?”

The woman shrugged. “Drugs. A bike or parts.”

The thought of that horrified her. “What happens to them?”

“They work in the strip clubs, stay high all the time. Eventually their spirits get broken. It’s too late, girlie. I’d drop your search if you want to stay alive.” This time she wrenched away from Mollie’s grip and headed away.

Mollie couldn’t move for a few moments, struck by that terrible image. She’d heard in her research that the clubs made some of their women work in those kind of bars to support them. Some were forced into prostitution. Mollie broke out of her panic and moved toward the front of the store. She did a self-checkout and bought her hat. Just
before the woman was about to step outside, Mollie caught up with her. “One more question and I promise I’ll leave you alone. Where are these strip clubs?”

“I can’t tell you that.” Fear shadowed her eyes. “You go snooping around and it comes out that I sent you, I’ll end up in Chicago, too.” She hurried off, and Mollie wondered if she realized she’d given away the answer.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of those community bulletin boards. Mollie usually kept a folded supply of pages with Di’s picture on her. She found an available corner and tacked the page to it. That’s when she saw a second missing poster, yet another young woman who had last been seen hitchhiking in the area. Mollie took a picture with her cell phone and ran out a few yards behind the biker woman. She slowed her pace and, as Julian had instructed, headed his way.

Everything she’d just heard, from both the detective and the biker woman, turned her stomach and tore her heart. More so seeing Julian standing sentry, the sun on his glossy dark hair. She had the insane urge to simply fall into his arms, so she forced herself to stop a couple of feet in front of him. “We don’t need to follow them anymore. I know where Di might be.” She relayed the conversation as the bikes rolled out of the parking lot. She did not mention the detective’s call.