Estelle In Denver (In Denver Series Book 2) (16 page)

I see Ashleigh running down the glass sky annex, connecting the two buildings, making it our offices. Her long hair like a cape blowing behind her. She crashes into my door, unable to stop the momentum she's built. When she finally gets it open, she is breathing heavy. She ran fast across almost the length of a football field between our offices.

“She’s heading to the airport!” she says, trying to catch her breath.

“Who is heading towards the airport?” I ask her with a confused look in my face.  

“Estelle is, you dumbass.” She sounds annoyed she had to clarify for me.

“How do you know that, Ashleigh?”

“I'm still monitoring her GPS unit. I set perimeters, if she steps outside them, I get an alert.” She looks at me like she is giving me an obvious answer to a stupid question.

“Do you have any idea how pissed she will be?” I shake my head at her.

“Look, you keep losing the girl. I'm just looking out for her.” She states in a matter of fact manner.

“Ash, do you have it covered here? I'm going after her.” I say as I grab my stuff. I’m upset she is going out of town didn’t mention it at dinner.

She nods her head, still out of breath.

“Kid, you need to work on your cardio. For someone so sure the zombie apocalypse is coming, you’re outta shape."

“Oh, fuck off!” she says and throws her hands in the air, shaking her head and grumbling like the surly teenager she is.

I am glad I keep an overnight bag and a few suits in the office. I grab my shit and head to the garage.

While driving, I call Mel, who knows nothing about Estelle going anywhere. I call Kennedy, and she calls Tristan, they know nothing either. I park in short term parking and head toward the ticket counters. I'm not even sure which fucking airline she will fly. I start at the major ones and ask if anyone matching Estelle's picture bought a ticket, a young ticket clerk tells me that she didn't buy one, but she picked a ticket up.

“Can you tell me where to?”

“No sir,” she says, “but if you wanted to buy a ticket to that location; I have that screen up and as I'm looking, the seat next to said passenger is empty.”

“Book it, please. And can you upgrade the return flights to first class?” I look at her name tag. “Thank you, Celine.”

“It was my pleasure.” she hands me a ticket to California, leaving in one hour.

I rush to the gates and turn around to wave, but she's gone and the lights are dimmed. I wonder how the hell she closed up so fast. I walk to the security check. I'm holding my shoes in my hand, everything is in the tray, and I make it through with no problems. I rush to the gate and the doors are just about to close.

Rushing up to the gate, I plead, “Please, I have to get on that plane.” The flight attendant supervisor lets me through, and I make my way up the aisle.

“Going somewhere, Princess?”

She explains why she is headed to California and I feel like an asshole. I’ve made her feel like she shouldn't ask anyone for support. After that, she falls asleep on my shoulder within a few minutes; she must have slept little last night.

When we get to the hotel and they are booked solid, the desk offers a cot and my back is already protesting. When Estelle tells her we don't need it, I feel apprehensive.

We head to the room, and she excuses herself to take a shower. Suddenly, she steps out of the bathroom in her robe, walks to her bag still dripping water and I can see her grab panties out of her bag—light pink, lace panties and my cock is instantly hard. I can’t tear my eyes off of her as she walks back to the bathroom.

When it's my turn to shower, I turn it on cold, but I still have to jack my dick to find relief—and yet, getting out the shower, I'm still hard. I get dressed and we get a call that the car is ready. I have no issues getting into the building or the conference room. When we get there, we see eight boards set up, each with a series of pictures of the men and Estelle.

They have taken black marker and covered her private areas, but you still know what's happening. While she adds information to the boards, I text Ashleigh a list of things I need at the hotel room. She texts back that she will make sure the hotel has everything in the room within the hour. For the next couple of hours, I watch as she tells them everything. They order dinner and get the ball rolling in grabbing these guys from their nice comfy beds. By the end of the night, I can see Estelle is exhausted. The minute we walk into the hotel room and the door closes, her legs give out.

I know she needs a shower—she needs to feel clean, but she isn't able to stand. Therefore, I undress her and fill the tub with the hottest water there is. I set a relaxing mood for her and sit on the bed. When I go to check on her, she wants me to wash her back; so I do. I also wash her hair. Just then, I hear the song change to a song I know, but I don't know who’s singing it.

While I’m still listening to the song, she gets up and kisses me. I want this so bad it hurts, but only if she is sure. I can't handle not making it this time. I know she's my forever. All my fuck ups have led us to this. I grab her chin and make her look at me.

"Princess, I want to be clear about this, I will only go as far as you want, but if you feel the need to stop or don’t like something I'm doing, you only need to say the word and I will stop. I promise you, I won’t hurt you in any way, shape, or form."

She’s assuring me she understands and is ready for me. I lay her down on the bed on her stomach and reach over to the nightstand for a bottle of lotion. I don't know what the brand or scent is, but I know it smells like vanilla and I love that scent on her. I think back on how much of an asshole I was, and I know I will do everything in my power to prove I deserve this second chance. I glance up at her to see her reaction and notice the glazed look on her face. I feel proud of myself; I made my girl feel like that.

My cell phone is ringing and so is Rhydian’s. I grab mine and see its Ashleigh.

“Estelle, I need you and Rhydian to get back here right now," Ashleigh says over the phone. 

I hand Rhydian the phone. I know this is bad, I can feel the fear curling in my stomach. Everything I've been through in the last few months is nothing compared to how I feel right now. 

Rhydian is talking to Ashleigh on my phone, when all of a sudden we hear a bang on the door. “It’s Reed, open up!” I run to the door, wrapped in a sheet, when I open the door, Reed and his team push into the room. 

“Estelle, we need you to get dressed right now,” Reed says, having his men guard the door.

Fear is coursing through my veins as I grab my bags and run to the bathroom to put on my jeans and sneakers, I never go anywhere without get away clothes. I see Rhydian pulling up his boxers and a female from Reed's team is checking him out. When she sees me watching her, she blushes and looks away.

We are hurried out of the hotel room and into a fleet of waiting SUV’s. Once we are in the back, Reed begins to talk. 

“Listen, we were able to apprehend six of the seven men still alive, but one must have gotten tipped off because when we went to get him, he was long gone. He left this.”

He spun his phone around, and on it was a picture of a pair of underwear laying on top of a picture of me with a knife stabbed through it. 

“Who didn’t you get?” I ask. I know, but I need to hear it. 

“We got everyone except Jack Wells.” Reed says, the look on his face lets me know it’s bad and about to get worse.  

“Who is that?” Rhydian asks me.  

I squeezed my eyes shut. “He is the cutter. He prefers knives, like the one in the picture, he is as demented as they come. Edwin told me he usually kills his girls, but Edwin made it clear I could be hurt, but not killed, or marked on my face.” 

Reed looked at Rhydian, seemingly thinking about something before he speaks.

“They searched his house. He left the evidence out in the open, and from what we can tell, we are dealing with one of the most prolific serial killers of all time. His kill count is up in the high hundreds. He hasn’t ever shown up on any radar. And he kept trophies for every victim; there are things dating back thirty-five years. He keeps it all in a trophy room—a lock of hair, a picture of the victim alive and a picture of his handy work after. Which means we are moving you to a safe house.”  

“No, I’m not going. I’m done being hunted, I’m going home!” irritated tone.

I pull out my phone and call Crash. 

“Hey, sweetness. What can I do you for?”

“I need your help; I need everyone’s help, actually. Can I come by the clubhouse in about four hours?” I look at Rhydian and Reed and they both nod their heads. They know this can’t be done by the book. 

“I’ll have Rhydian and Reed with me.” I say to Crash and hear him relay our conversation to Renegade. He comes back on the line to let me know he will let the prospect know who should be arriving.

A few hours later, we touch down in Denver and drive straight to Brighton. It always amazes me the misconception people and even I use to have of bikers. The Chosen One compound is huge and clean. Guys milling around working on the little houses or their bikes; some are pushing young kids on a swing. I’m sure if you’d take the bikers out, it would look like a quiet neighborhood. They have bought the property at an auction after some cult had lost it due to not paying taxes. It seems to work great for them. It is off the beaten path and confined—they don’t bother anyone and no one bothers them. They live the life they want with no interference. We make our way to the clubhouse where all the members are waiting.

When I walk in I see Killian and I’m confused until I see the patch on his vest that says prospect. Rhydian and Reed step in behind me. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me!” I hear Rhydian shout, while Reed just snorts.

“Well, sweet pea, what brings you to the seventh circle of hell?” I hear Renegade’s voice through the loud music and the sound of pool balls making contact.

In front of all the members, I once again tell my story. The bikers are stone faced. I make my way over to their TV and plug in my HDMI cable, I pull up the date I want on my laptop, and it flickers to life on the big screen. The bikers are all silent. I'm about fifteen in the video, I'm naked and tied to a fold out table that's covered in plastic. I probably weigh eighty pounds and look much younger than my fifteen years. Jack Wells comes into the frame, and I watch as the video plays in front of me.

“Please, don't hurt me.” I beg. I'm crying on the video. 

He makes his first cut and I scream, pulling against my bindings.

“I love it when they scream.” he says to Edwin, who laughs off camera.

He makes his second cut and then his third. I've stopped begging because I know there is no use; he isn't going to stop. He runs the knife across my face, but doesn't cut.

“I wish I could carve you up how I like, but your daddy here says I can't touch your face. What a pity.” He continues to cut and I continue to scream, until he finally takes off his clothes and walks towards the table with a rope he ties it around my neck and climbs on the table. I shut it off, closing the laptop.

I have to take a minute to steady my voice before I talk to the group.

“This man is after me. They went to arrest him, but he got tipped off so he's coming after me. I'm going to go to my real dad and ask him for his men, but I will keep them on the outside. I'm gonna let Jack find me. I'm not running and I'm not hiding, but I need you to help me catch him and find somewhere to store him. And once I'm done, I need the evidence taken care of.”

“You know you’re talking in front of a Fed, right?” Killian says.

“I'm not a Fed, dumbass. I work for Homeland Security and this guy has funded twenty terrorist and ISIS cells. I'm here for Estelle. As far as my unit is concerned, I have been on leave since we landed in Denver. They want this guy dead, not captured.”

A prospect I remember from my house, and is now wearing a vest that says Pins, speaks up. “Estelle, don't do this. You don't want this coming back on you. Let us handle this for you.”

Crash and Bison stepped forward. “We got this, sweetness,” Bison says, and I reluctantly nod my head.

“I want to be there though. I want him to know he doesn’t scare me anymore," I say.

“We wouldn't have it any other way, sweetness." Crash looks at Rhydian. “Don’t hurt her again.” Rhydian extends his hand and they shakes hands.

Bison came up and gave me a hug. “Damn girl, you have no idea how amazing you are.”

Renegade comes up with Brenda and they give me a hug. “Come on, sweet pea. Let the men do what they have to do,” Brenda says.

“Reed!” I yell concerned. “The girls, Mel, and Patrick are at the house on Anderson Street.” 

“No, they aren’t” he reassures me. “We moved them to a safe house, but I think we should move them here.” 

“Renegade, do you have room? These girls were in the house when I was taken; change is hard for them." 

“We have four cabins that were just renovated. Make the phone call, sweet pea, we will protect them." 

I turn and see Killian and Rhydian talking. Killian turns and I see something on the back of his ear. I can't remember what it is, but I know Killian can hear now and that’s awesome. 

I stand outside the clubhouse and wait for my dad, Vaughn, and Uncle Sal. They are coming here to discuss security details. As soon as they pull up, I see Mel and Patrick pull up behind them. The girls shoot out of the back seat and run towards me. 

“We were so worried about you!” Anastasia says. I see Oksana and Zasha have tears in their eyes. 

“We thought something awful had happened when they made us grab our things and leave.” Zasha wipes her tears away and then hugs me too.

“Ahhhhh, Zasha. It’s ok. I'm sorry I couldn't call or text you. I'm fine, we are gonna get you guys settled here until we can catch this guy."

“Come on into the clubhouse. I would like you to meet everyone, girls. These are good men, no one will hurt you. They are all protectors, do you understand?” They only nod.

“This is my father, Antonio and my Uncle Sal.” I can see the girls are shocked at the size of the two men.

“This is my brother Giovanni, but he likes to be called Vaughn. These are my friends Anastasia, Oksana, and Zasha.” The girls wave a shy hello in response.

I see Vaughn trying to pull his eyes away from Anastasia and she is blushing. I might have to play matchmaker because my brother needs a good girl and Anastasia needs a man to love her and be gentle and patient. I know my brother can be that man. Then we all walk in the clubhouse. 

“You girls remember Rhydian,” he smiles, but keeps his distance. He knows it will take a while for the girls to get used to him and feel comfortable enough to have contact.

“Your boyyyyyyyyyfriend” Zasha says in her sassy tone.

“Yes, my boyfriend” I say, and Mel rolls her eyes. 

“I heard that," Patrick says. “Woot! You owe me twenty bucks, Mel! I totally called that.” 

“This is Rhydian’s brother, Killian” he waves. “These are two of my best guy friends, Crash and Bison.” The guys only smile.

“There is Renegade, the President, and Pins, Three Fingers, and Pecks” when I say his name, he flexes his pec muscles under his way too tight shirt and the girls giggle, which pisses off my brother and Bison. The rest of us laugh.

“If you need anything, you find one of these guys, understand?” The girls nod their heads, and I notice Anastasia moving closer to Vaughn. Oksana seems to gravitate towards Bison. I could understand that, Bison was easy on the eyes. I'm not sure how I feel about the idea though. Bison is only twenty-one, but he is a biker, he grew up in this club and it’s the only life he has ever known. His dad is the Vice President, so it’s in his blood. I look at the way he places his hand on Oksana’s back, and she doesn’t flinch; she does the opposite, she almost leans into his touch. He whispers something in her ear, and she nods and walks over and the rest of the girls follow Brenda into the industrial kitchen. The women of the club have made us delicious food and we sit down at a small table and eat. 

“I was thinking that all of us could stay at the same cabin. If there aren’t enough beds, maybe we can get one of the men to bring a bed over.” Zasha says looking at her food. I notice one of the prospects overhears; he lets me know he will take care of it personally.  

It’s about forty minutes before my father comes in. 

“Hey Zasha, Patrick told me you guys have been playing checkers. Have you ever played chess?” he asks her. 

“No, I don’t think I’m smart enough.” She replies sadly.

“Zasha, cupcake, I never want to hear you say anything like that about yourself again. You are smart. Some of the kids are setting up a small game area. Do you want to go meet some of them? There’re a few kids your age." Antonio says.

She looks a little worried and looks to Anastasia for guidance.

“I think it will be a good idea, Zasha. It will be good for you to get used to being around kids if you want to start school in a few months. This will be good practice for you” she says reassuringly.

Zasha gets up, grabbing her plate she walks to the sink and looks for the soap and sponge. 

Brenda comes and grabs the plate. “You go be a kid. I will wash it for you.” 

Zasha gives Brenda a hug and a kiss on the check and thanks her for the wonderful food. Brenda turns towards the sink before anyone can see her tears. 

“What’s going to happen to her? She is only fifteen?” Brenda asks. 

“Well, technically she is emancipated, but she could really use a good family. She has a lot of therapy left, but even at fifteen she would love to have a family and a normal life,” Mel states. We all look around. This is far from a normal life, but it could be a good life for Zasha. She would have a family and a very large group of men that would protect her with their lives.

The women sit around and talk. It isn’t long before I make my next move. I just hoped I survive it. I make sure the men are occupied and I slip out. I’m not a scared fifteen-year-old girl anymore. I drive the twenty-two miles to Denver and I pull into my driveway. I walk into my house and pull things out for a chicken salad sandwich. I’m chopping up the leftover chicken in the fridge, and as I pull out celery and onion, I’m whistling. I know he there; he isn’t even sneaky. I can see him stroll into the kitchen out the corner of my eye he doesn’t realize I have seen him because I keep working on my sandwich.

“So we meet again, Stella.” Jack says with a sneer.

“It would seem so.” I put the knife down and step away from the counter, leaving the knife. “If you leave now, I will let you turn yourself in." Jack only laughs in response.

“Oh, you're serious. I’m here to finish what I started when we first met all those years ago. I hated to stop when I knew if I could cut a little more, you would be my finest creation.” He takes a step towards me. 

I step around the counter towards him, letting him know I’m not scared anymore.