Madness Ends (7 page)

Kneeling, she pulled the drawer out and set it on top of the desk before sliding her arm inside the dark, narrow passage. At first, all she encountered were the tracks that guided the bottom of the drawer. Then her fingertips brushed against something, and she grabbed it before yanking it out. It was a small envelope, and when she opened it, three dull brass keys fell into her palm. She blinked at them, unsure if she was really seeing them. They were short with a wide base and plastic covered their ends. A set of uniform numbers were etched into the metal. Kaiya knew they weren’t house keys so she sat in her chair, replaced the drawer and fired up her laptop.

Searching for the identification of the three keys was flat out tedious, and it didn’t help her headache at all. One key pretty much resembled the next one. Plus she had no idea what she was looking for in the first place, let alone what they could possibly be for. After a while, the dull ache from where her head had slapped against the wall flared from the intensity of staring at the laptop screen. She rubbed her temples, wanting to give up. Without any direction, it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

As she stretched her cramped muscles, she ran her gaze over the new photos on the Internet web search and landed on a photo of a man holding a set of keys in his hand. They looked strikingly similar to the ones on her desk that it suddenly dawned on her what the keys were and she hurried to open up a new website for bus terminals.

Half an hour later, she made her way to Romeo’s office. Boone sat in one seat facing the president of the club and, when she knocked, they both turned to see her. She held up a sign that said, “I need to inform you of something.”

Romeo nodded and said to Boone, “Go get Gabby and Dax.”

Boone gave her a concerned, searching glance before leaving her with Romeo. They had been working closely together for a few weeks and she’d come to know him as funny and caring, but fuck with him and he gave no quarter. He seemed like a fair man, an honorable one to his men, his club and to Chloe. Yet she had no illusions that the switchblade he carried wasn’t strictly for decoration.

It didn’t take long for Boone to collect Gabby and Dax, and the office suddenly seemed too small with all the large male bodies present. When Romeo nodded to her, she held up another handwritten sign that asked, “Did Boone and Gabby tell you about the man who attacked me earlier?”

Romeo nodded.

She laid down the piece of paper. That had been her last sign. She signed to him, angling so that Gabby could read and translate. “I think I know why Cipher came back.”

That had everyone’s attentions. Romeo shared a quick look with Dax.

“Go on,” Boone said.

“Cipher invented his own shorthand, and although I’ll probably never be able to understand it completely, I did manage to figure out his money trail.”

She waited until Gabby told them what she’d said.

“Money trail?” Romeo asked.

“He made two ledgers,” she continued. “You weren’t the only ones he stole from.”

Almost immediately after Gabby related what she said, rage darkened Romeo’s handsome features. He leaned forward in his chair and pinned her with an angry stare. She was very glad she wasn’t the object of his wrath.

“Are you saying he not only fleeced the club, but swindled Shepard as well?” Romeo asked, in what she assumed would be a stone-cold voice.

She nodded.

“So where’s the extra money?”

She laid out the three keys on the table. “In three separate locations.”

All the men stared at her in shock.

Boone tapped her on the shoulder, and she glanced at him.

“Do you know where these locations are?”

She pointed to the first key. “This is a key for the lockers in the Greyhound terminal in Lincoln.” She pushed the second one forward. “This is for the lockers in the Greyhound terminal in Omaha. And the third? It’s located in Sioux City, South Dakota.”

Romeo folded his arms and leaned back in his chair. She could feel the tension and rage boiling just under the surface. “Up Interstate Twenty-Nine.”

“Cipher went on that last meth run with me to Sioux City,” Dax said. “Right before Shepard’s double life was exposed and I missed all the fun.”

“I wish I had killed that fucker now.” Kaiya read Romeo’s lips.

“Well, we have the keys and we know where they money is,” Boone said. “Gabby and I planned on heading to Canada to meet with Red Eye. We can stop at each place and just pick it up.”

Kaiya banged on the table to grab their attention. “I want to go,” she signed. “I need to see how much is there and measure it against his books. Perhaps I can figure out the rest of his shorthand if I have a monetary comparison to look for.”

She watched Romeo’s face as Gabby related her request.

Romeo studied her, then he glanced at Gabby. “Are you going to be able to handle that?”

For a split second, a petrified look crossed through his eyes. If she wasn’t so in tune to watching people, she probably would have missed it. But there was no denying the thought of spending time with her terrified him, and the idea stabbed into her heart.

“Yes,” Gabby said.

She knew he lied and it pissed her off.

Slowly, Romeo nodded. “Very well.” He met her gaze. “This time, Kaiya. All right? Shit, Chloe’s going to skin me for allowing this.”

Irritation at Gabby’s fear spiked through her. It also irked her that Romeo had to approve of her going, that he thought he ruled her. She was free, damn it. Romeo Barrigan would not replace her grandfather’s autocratic rule with his own. Rubbing her forehead, she gathered the three keys and marched away, head down.

Back in her office, she took a deep breath to calm the anger trembling through her body. A hand on her arm made her flinch and she spun, her fists ready to defend herself. Gabby stood there, watching her with narrowed eyes. He held a can of soda and two white pills.

“Aspirin,” he said.

She grudgingly accepted them, placed them on her tongue and washed them down with the cold drink. The closing of the door caught her attention, and she glanced up at Gabby questioningly. His eyes glittered in the low light.

“Why did you not like what Romeo said?” he signed.

She smacked her hand down on the desk. She might not have been able to hear the bang, but the pain radiating up her arm made her feel a tad better.

“Romeo wasn’t the only one who made me angry,” she signed. “
You
didn’t like the thought of me being around.”

“Not the way you think,” he said. “I suffer from PTSD. I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

Okay, that somewhat eased the ache that had been building in her chest. Still, she stuck her chin up in defiance.

“That first day, I told you I’m free.” There. That was short and precise. No way could he misunderstand that. “I won’t live under anyone’s thumb again. You, Romeo, Boone, none of you can tell me what to do!”

“What he said was for the good of the club.”

“I am club!”

He shook his head. “No, you’re family. Outside the club, Chloe is Romeo’s number one concern and he knows she’s not going to like having you away from her.”

She hated that what he said made sense. “It sounded like a reluctant excuse.”

He cupped her face with one hand and rubbed his thumb over her lips. “You’re being bratty.”

Her mouth fell open, and annoyance flared once again.
Bratty?
Who did he think he was? Gabby knew nothing about being a prisoner—stuck behind high walls, unable to communicate with the outside world. Slowly dying, day by day as the life was sucked out in minute increments. She reached out and hit him on the chest with a fist. Lightning fast, he spun her around until her back pressed against his front. He held her locked within the circle of his arms, and although she wiggled and fought, he kept a firm grip. It was like trying to break free of iron shackles, and soon she panted from the exertion of going nowhere. He loosened his hold only long enough to turn her so she could read his lips.

“Bratty girls get spanked,” he said.

Although it was supposed to be a threat, she went from pissed-off to aroused in a nano-second. Gabby didn’t give her much time to think about the implication of his words because in the next second, he sat in her own chair and had her bent over. He wrapped one leg around hers, locking her in place, while he caressed one big beefy hand over her ass cheeks. Kaiya struggled, although it was half-hearted at best. No way could he possibly mean to
spank
her. She’d always imagined spanking came with sexual play, not actually used for punishment. And yet he pulled his hand away then brought it down a second later, smacking her hard across one butt cheek. Not censoring her voice, she cried out. Again, he spanked her and again, she yelled, beyond pissed. Yet with each crack of his hand, the pain was sharp, brief and began to migrate straight to her clit. She’d forgotten to count but it wasn’t long before she calmed to actually look forward to the next, drifting in a sort of euphoric haze. In fact, she didn’t even protest when he stopped and draped her over her desk. All she knew was that her pussy was dripping, her ass was on fire, and a sense of peace had segued through her brain.

Slowly, Gabby stripped her of her pants, followed by her panties, and still she simply lay on the desk, trying to gather her scattered wits. He sat in the chair and ran his hands up and down her thighs, settling on her still-smarting cheeks. He separated them and cool air rushed over her anus, causing her to shudder and rouse her a little more from her stupor. He ran his tongue over her rosette and a new thrill shot through her languid body. Gabby eased the tip up and down the puckered flesh then dipped into her heated channel. Kaiya had already been creaming her panties from the spanking, but the stimulation against the nerve endings had the juices flowing like a sieve. And when he reached around her hips to find her clit, it was too much to bear and she convulsed with a spine-tingling orgasm.

Gabby caressed her through her climax until tiny little shivers rolled through her, then he pulled away. She vaguely heard the zipper go down on his jeans but there was no confusing when he nudged her legs open farther and settled between her splayed thighs. He brushed his cock teasingly through her slit, and she wiggled her hips impatiently. With a mighty shove, he plunged into her. Kaiya emitted a tiny shriek as his cock buried into her, the force sending her forward on the desk. He held still for a moment, letting her adjust to his length and girth. He was big, like Boone, but she was so wet that the discomfort immediately melted away.

Gabby pumped in shallow little thrusts at first, but quickly gave way to something deeper and harder. She wished she could hear the sounds, especially all the noises from him, and once again, she cursed her deafness. In and out, he pushed, gaining in speed until he was pounding her pussy like a madman. Then out of nowhere, he slapped her ass. Not as hard as the punishment had been, but still, her already sensitive cheek lit up like a live wire had touched it. She yelped and bucked, but rubbed his fingers over her swollen clit, calming her. He tortured her like this over and over. First a spank then a rub, spiraling her higher and higher until the dam burst. Kaiya cried out as her orgasm took over, her whole body shaking as he fucked her with all ten inches crammed into her tight pussy.

With one last thrust, Gabby erupted deep within her cunt. Shot after shot of hot cum bathed her, filling her until he collapsed forward over her back, holding her hips. The man had stamina, ejaculating the last bit of his cum deep into her as he kissed the back of her neck. Her heart beat frantically as she gulped in air. Finally, Gabby pulled from her, his cock slipping out of her body. Fluid gushed down her thighs but she was too sated to do much about it. Gabby knelt behind her and began cleaning her with a cloth and when she looked, she saw it was his T-shirt. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, making his tats stand out against his tanned skin. Excitement flared to life even though her body still quivered from the amazing orgasms he’d given her.

Gabby smiled and winked, and she had to wonder if she shouldn’t be bratty more often.

Chapter Seven

The dimness of the dingy and depressing bar encompassed him, matching his attitude to a tee. Cipher stared into the amber glass of his beer bottle as if he could glean all of life’s mysteries from its bottomless depths. Desperation made his stomach roll sickeningly. The warm beer did not help the matter at all.

“That was a bold move you made today.”

He looked at the man sitting next to him—tall, big, mean looking. The blackness of his eyes held a dark, soulless reflection, and a shiver raced across Cipher’s skin. He knew, without a doubt, that evil lived inside this man.

“I was watching them, which means I’ve been watching you.” The man gave a chuckle devoid of amusement. “You must have titanium balls sitting out in the open where any of those fuckers can find you.”

“Leave me the fuck alone,” Cipher muttered. The guy was giving him the creeps.

“You know, I thought Boone and that big silent guy were lovers.”

That caught his attention. “You mean Gabby?”

“That his name?” The man pulled a cigarette out of a pack and lit it with a silver lighter. He took a long drag before exhaling the smoke. It encircled his head like a misty halo. “And then this little Jap girl comes along and suddenly both men are fucking her. What got you so fired up that you attacked their woman?”

Cipher shook his head. “Who in the hell are you?”

The man took another deep hit before grinding the cigarette out. “The name’s Vicious. From your actions today, I believe we have a mutual enemy.”

No way in hell did Cipher want to talk to the man, but anger stirred deep inside his core. The bitter taste of hatred burned the back of his throat. “You mean the Men of Hell?”

“I meant their fucking V.P. Boone Tempest.”

Just hearing the man’s name had him squeezing his hand into a fist, ready to let his anger fly. Boone had been the one to stuff a bandana in his mouth when his cries of being tortured had become too loud. He really wished the asshole were in front of him so he could punch the ever-living shit out of the man.