Honey Whiskey (A Bastards MC Novel) (35 page)

“
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 dumb ass? 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 fiancé to the other.” Wow, he was on a
roll tonight, the fucker. He took a long pull of 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
mother fucker’s hand and then 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 that 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 and
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 adjusted, sitting 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. “Ok. 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
back of her legs as she bent to spit was enough to make me hard,
and I tried to adjust discretely.

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 that 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, 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 as 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. I
pulled back and held her close to my chest.

“
Are you sure you’re ok taking the
kids without me?”

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 Tink, 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 of she being
the only one 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 love most in the world are in
danger, there are 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 then there was Carlos. My gut
told me it wasn’t any of them, but Carlos was the most believable
option. Not only was he the head of a local mafia group, he was the
skum bag that liked to use his fists on his girlfriend- a woman
that used to be a huge part of our club.

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 here, 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 here and
she’d be ok. 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, but then faced us all. “There’s one name not on that
list.” He stared at me and then at Tank. “I know you don’t want to
hear this, but first El. Then Tink. 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 that 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, there were only a handful of people that knew what 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 that 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 grampa
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 had sent him to
Europe for boarding school to scare him straight.

The plan backfired though because
Dyer became friends with men just like himself, and some that were
much worse. When his grandfather finally kicked the bucket, Scott
inherited millions and moved back home. Men with his sadistic
tastes can’t just quit cold turkey and forget the life they once
led. On the outside, he looked like the model citizen. He donated
to every charity Boston had, hob-knobbed 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 fairytale 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 911 calls her daughter made, and when she
was rushed to the emergency room, all evidence conveniently
disappeared. No one would help her. Until her ex-husband came to
us.

It had been almost a year when she
met with us, and her once beautiful body was marred with the scars
his 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, and 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’ 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 face. There was
no way to help those girls now. Wiz started running their photos
through every missing child database there was because we wanted a
name to go with the faces. And, we broke into groups, each going to
one of his 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 that knew more about Dyer and his
activities then 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 held, and
tortured, every single woman and girl he’d kidnapped over the last
few months. As well as the bodies of the ones that couldn’t
withstand the pain he’d caused.

I didn’t know how many people I
killed that night, or how many times I’d reloaded my clips. I can
say, without 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
thought of punishment was greater than the idea of freedom, and,
worst of all, were the ones that were severely injured and begged
us to kill them. Bear took it on himself to start carrying 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.