Love Ties (33 page)

“I have a sister. We have to find her, Jamie.”

The certificate wasn’t an official one from the state, which was why it only said Baby Girl Peerson. The hospital would have issued it after the child’s birth, and the parents would have a certain number of days before they had to come up with a name for her.

Or an adoptive family would.

The paper fluttered in her shaking hand, and he captured her fingers, stilling it. Looking into her eyes, he made a promise. “We’ll find her, Ever. However long it takes, we will get to the bottom of this mystery.”

Her words were thick with tears. “Thank you.”

He stroked her waves of hair that had caught his attention from the start. “Is there anything else?”

For a long minute she didn’t answer. Adrenaline hit his veins like a semi-truck smashing a bike.

“Truth, Ever.”

“Always the truth, Jamie. I swear.”

“Good. Now what is it?”

“That raid at the warehouse in three days.”

Fuck. “What about it?”

“I’m supposed to be there.”

He ducked his head to hold her gaze. “Okay, why?”

“I’m supposed to be the hostage. The one reason that the Hell’s Sons won’t fire on the Raiders. But I don’t think Blacky realizes how flawed his plan is.”

God, did this ever end?

“What do you mean?”

Her eyes were bright with fear. “Strother would shoot right through me to get to the man who is responsible for killing his son. Now how are you going to stop it?”

Jamison hadn’t let Ever out of his sight. Even when he had to talk business with the guys, he did it within Ever’s hearing.

She gazed at the lines of his back, loving each inch of his muscled spine, right down to his hard backside in worn jeans. He and Ace were hunched over the laptop. The papers Ever had stolen from the safe were on the table before them, and Copilot lay at Ace’s feet.

As she wiggled her fingers, the dog glanced up with interest. She waggled some more until the dog got up and came to her. She sank her fingers into his soft coat and massaged his neck and behind his ears. When she moved to his back, his whole body swayed with his tail.

Ace grinned at her. “You’ve made a friend for life.”

“I hope so.” She didn’t only mean Copilot.

He seemed to know. He nodded.

“So you have no idea where Sissy is?” Jamison asked.

Ace redirected his attention. “All we know is she took the money from an account, and no one has heard from her since. It wasn’t much money. She can’t get far on it. O’Dovey’s looking into her whereabouts, and he thinks she might be on her way to a distant aunt in New Orleans.”

Jamison sat back with a sigh. “Sarah must be devastated, but I hope you’re right about the aunt. Sissy isn’t ready to be on her own.”

Ever’s ears perked up. She hadn’t seen Sarah since her return, but it was high time she found her. The tender moments when they’d shared their bodies had melded them together as friends too.

“Where is Sarah?” she asked.

“With O’Dovey. She had to run some errands, and he won’t let her go anywhere alone.”

Oh God. Ever had forgotten what Sarah had told her. “Shit.”

Ace and Jamison looked at her.

“Blacky threatened to harm O’Dovey too. Sarah was afraid.”

Ace shoved back his chair, and it tipped over. In a flash he was on his cell, dispatching the guys who were making a “change” run to detour and find O’Dovey and Sarah.

Dread was like barbed wire in Ever’s stomach. Jamison came to her and drew her into his arms.

“I can’t believe I forgot! What if something happens to them?”

“They’re probably fine,” he assured her. “But Ace will send the guys after them as a precaution.”

She gnawed her lower lip, racking her brain for anything else she might have forgotten.

Ace’s laptop bleeped as an e-mail came in.

Jamison pulled away from Ever and planted his hand on the table to peer at the screen. A primal gleam in his eye told her that he had some intel they’d been looking for.

He slapped the table. “We’ve got Satkowsky pinned down. He’s two counties over, out on bail for a misdemeanor.”

She mashed her hand to her chest, trying to still her racing heart. “You’re going after him?”

“Damn straight. No time to lose. We have to get to him before he does something that gets him tossed back inside.”

“I’m coming with you.”

He was shaking his head before the words finished leaving her mouth. “No, baby. You can’t be there when this thing goes down.”

“But it’s my revenge. If he killed my mother, I get to pull the trigger.”

Jamison’s features shivered. He moved to cradle her cheek in his hand. She latched onto his wrist, over the wildflower tattoo. “I can’t let you be there. Part of loving me is trusting me. Can you do that? Can you trust me to take care of your business?”

She searched his face. Every smile and worry line was printed on her heart. She’d seen enough death for a lifetime. Jamison could handle it for her.

She nodded, and he smiled. “Good. Now give me your lips. I’ll get Ace and a couple other guys and be back by midnight.”

“Midnight!” She’d die while waiting for his return. “What will I do while you’re off doing dangerous things?”

Sarah and O’Dovey entered the MC, safe and whole and carrying a few department store bags. Ever’s gaze locked with Sarah’s. The woman’s lips parted on a sigh.

Jamison pushed her toward Sarah. “You’ll think of something.”

•●•

The vibration of the bike under Jamison’s hands centered him. What he was about to do was mete out justice. He’d do anything for Ever, and he had to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Mainly because more intel had come in. They’d found her sister.

As his bike ate up the road between him and Satkowsky, he enjoyed the moment. Life was short, and he cherished the good when it fell into his lap. The night he’d walked into The Gearhead and found Ever, he’d recognized the good.

Ace and the small group of guys he’d brought as backup stopped for fuel. He checked his phone messages and only got a heart icon from Ever. Smiling, he pocketed his phone.

Tommy leaned against his bike, chugging an energy drink. Harris had come too, and they’d brought a prospect this time.

Drake had come to the Hell’s Sons looking for acceptance. He’d done time for burglary but wanted to put that behind him. Still, he was handy with picking locks and hotwiring cars, so an asset to the club.

Tonight he’d get his initiation. If he was a solid man at Jamison’s back, they’d most likely vote him in.

Ace burst out of the convenience mart, face grim in the blue glow of the parking lights.

Jamison straightened, and Tommy crumpled his can.

“What’s going on?” Jamison asked as Ace got close enough to exchange quiet words.

He twisted his lips and thrust out his cell. “I’ve got Franklin behind the screen, gathering intel on the case for Ever. He’s found a connection between one of those names on the card and Satkowsky.”

“Which name?”

“Mitchell. Franklin dug deeper and found a tie to the Raiders.”

“Was it one of their members?”

The other guys crowded around to hear the information.

Ace’s gaze was piercing. “It was their prez.”

“But Seagraves—”

“Used his middle name, which most don’t know about. William Mitchell Seagraves.”

“Fuck.” Jamison scuffed his knuckles over his jaw, over the stiff hair Ever loved. “Why would their prez want her dead? What was he after?”

“Could have been any number of reasons. Maybe it was a jilted lover thing. Whatever the reason, he’s made it on our list, Jamison. Seagraves has to go down for ordering the hit on Ever’s mother.”

Jamison blinked at the vehemence in his friend’s tone. His mouth quirked up, and he delivered a light punch to Ace’s arm. “Since when are you so passionate about protecting Ever?”

“You should know how she can look at a man and get him to do her bidding.”

“Ain’t that the truth?” He glanced at the ring of leather-clad brothers around him. “Let’s ride.”

Engines roared, and they hit the highway in a
V
formation with Jamison at the head. In the months since Strother’s son had died, Jamison had found the guys rallying around him more and more. They relied on him rather than their prez, and he hoped they remembered that when Jamison brought the vote to the table.

It was time for Strother’s reign to end.

Whatever happened, Jamison was grateful to have the guys at his back when he faced Satkowsky.

As the Hell’s Sons rode across the county line, Jamison got a call from Strother asking where he was.

“Really? I told you I was heading out to find the hit man.”

Strother was quiet. “Guess I forgot.”

“What’s going on with you, man? I think you need some time off again, maybe head back to Pensacola with your old lady.” Grinding his teeth, Jamison locked the phone to his ear. Strother was picking a very bad time to lose his shit, when he’d ordered them all to raid the drug warehouse in a few days.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I just forgot what you’d said about going tonight. Be safe. I’ll see you back here.”

Jamison ended the call and leaned into a curve. As they hit a straight stretch again, his mind flooded with thoughts of Ever. For his whole life, he’d had good friends and family. She’d had loss and betrayal. Strother was a fucked-up mess.

But he still had the rest of his brothers.

As soon as this thing with Satkowsky was done, he’d send his guys after Ever’s sister and ride back to the club alone. She’d asked him what he was going to do to keep her safe during that raid, and his first thought was to keep her the hell away.

She was right—Strother would go to any length to see Blacky dead, even if it meant shooting Ever. Hurt that ran that deep was lethal. Jamison had to use Strother’s pain in a positive way—direct it away from Ever. Maybe if Strother was the man to put a bullet in Blacky’s heart, he’d be healed.

The side street where Satkowsky lived milled with dealers and whores. The streets were alive at this time of night, and people scattered when seven bikes stopped in front of a rundown house with white peeling paint.

Jamison climbed off his bike and pulled his weapon. He pointed at the side of the house, indicating three Hell’s Sons were to go around back in case Satkowsky tried to escape.

Then he, Ace, Tommy, and Drake stormed the front. Drake kicked the door open, Ace burst in first. A shot rang out, and the wood over Jamison’s head splintered. He trained his weapon on a tall man wearing a wife beater and a pair of boxers.

“Drop your weapon,” Jamison ordered.

Ace moved aside, and they spilled into the living room, four guns on Satkowsky. He raised his chin in determination, his gun still in hand. At least until the other three guys filed in from the rear of the house.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked, dropping his weapon. “I don’t have a beef with you. I never even spoke to a Hell’s Son.”

“No, but you’re tight with the Dark Raiders. Get on your knees.” Jamison stepped forward and kicked the man’s legs apart. Satkowsky jerked an elbow back into Jamison’s ribs.

Pain ricocheted through his body, but he funneled the sensation into anger. He cracked Satkowsky in the ear with his gun. Skin split and blood poured out.

“What do you guys want?”

“We know about how you make a living, man. And that you took money from a Raider to kill a woman.”

“I’ve killed lots of people. Be a little more specific, asshole.” Blood ran down Satkowsky’s fingers as he cupped his ear.

Jamison kneed him in the kidney, sending him sprawling. “A woman named Bobbi Peerson.”

“He knows her,” Ace said, staring at Satkowsky’s face.

“Who did you take the money from? Who ordered the hit?”

“Can’t tell you that, man. Total confidentiality.” He coughed, curling slightly after the blow to his kidney. He’d be pissing blood from that hit, but he’d taken it like the best of men. He’d obviously been beat up before.

“Wrong,” Jamison snapped, pressing his gun into Satkowsky’s head. “This here is your confessional, and we’re your priests. We will send you on your way to Hell with a clear conscience. Tell us who ordered that hit on Bobbi Peerson.”