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Stephanie
SITTING BEHIND HAR on his bike felt strange. My hands yearned to grab the grips of the bike, but he was in my way. He shifted in front of me before his hands shot back to grab my wrists to wrap my arms around him.
“Scoot closer, Miss Priss.”
That wasn’t a hardship by any means, but after I slid closer he shook his head.
“Closer, babe. I want you plastered to me.”
I rolled my eyes, but pulled myself so close my crotch was against his ass and my breasts were tight against his chest.
“Better,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
He started his bike, and a new thrill shot through me. My hips fidgeted, and Har laughed. Feeling his laughter through my hands and my torso pressed to his gave me a different thrill.
Besides that first time when I was ten, I hadn’t ridden behind anyone. My arms around Har, and the feel of his bike beneath us, I knew this ride would be epic.
On the open road, I learned I was not wrong.
While the ride was epic, it was also too short. As he pulled into the forecourt, I frowned. I always thought not being in control of the bike would freak me right the hell out, but behind Har, it felt good. Better than good, right.
I sighed as he shut down the engine.
He patted my thigh. “You first, babe.”
While standing at the side of the bike, I took off my helmet and watched him dismount. When he saw my face, a slow smile spread across his. “Yeah. That’s what I like to see. We’re gonna talk about that when all this shit is through.”
“Talk about what?” I asked as he put his helmet on the bike seat.
He arched a brow calling bullshit, but said, “You being on my the back of my bike. The way it fuckin’ should be.”
My eyes widened and I opened my mouth to start in, but he put his finger on my lips. His other hand grabbed my helmet and put it next to his.
“Later, hon.”
I walked toward the clubhouse, but he grabbed my hand to whirl me in the opposite direction.
“You say nothing until I give you the nod, got it?”
“Sure thing.”
We rounded a medium-size pre-fabricated metal shed, and the prospect who delivered the groceries stood guard at the door.
He nodded to Har, but asked, “What’s she doin’ here, President?” His face shifted immediately to regret. “Sorry, sir. I shouldn’t—”
Har shook his head. “No. It’s good you asked. She made a case for getting a few licks in, and I’m giving her a shot.”
The prospect looked skeptical, but directed the look at me.
Har chuckled. “Work on your poker face, prospect.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, as he unlocked the door for us.
Two steps into the room and I stopped dead. Joules, Brute, and Roman were inside, leaning against the wall. A thin blonde-haired woman sat in a cane-back Bentwood cafe chair. She had a navy-blue bandana stuffed in her mouth and her eyes were narrowed to slits. A pungent odor hit me, and I noticed a bucket under her chair. I almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
My gaze moved to the left and I saw a man seated in an identical chair. I fought my head rearing back because he didn’t look anything like Wycliffe. But as I took in his features, I realized he was Wycliffe. He’d let his kinky-curly hair grow out, a drastic change to the clean-cut appearance I knew. Stubble lined his face. When his dull brown eyes caught mine, the skin crinkled around his eyes as if he were smiling around his gag.
This was a bad idea.
Har hooked his arm around my neck and turned us both so he could drop his face to mine. His eyes seemed to glow.
“Don’t let them see you sweat, Combes. You wanted this. I’m giving it to you. Don’t make me regret it, baby,” he said in a whisper so faint I strained to make out all his words.
I nodded.
His grip on my neck tightened, his other hand cupped my cheek and he planted a hot and heavy kiss on me. The moment my hands hit his sides, he pulled back and smiled. “Let ’im have it.”
Brute shoved off the wall, folded his arms across his expansive chest, and glowered at us with all his might. “What in the hell is she doing here?”
Tension filled the small room.
I heard Roman breath in sharply through his nose.
Joules muttered under his breath. “Show respect, Brute.”
Brute shook his head and his familiar brown eyes glared at me. “You need to get the hell out of here, Steph. That fuck doesn’t deserve to breathe, let alone breathe the same air as you. Know you’re stubborn as all hell, but for one goddamn time in your life you need to let a man handle this shit.”
Little would Brute ever know, he was that close to convincing me to leave. But pointing out my stubborn nature and insisting I ‘let a man handle’ my shit was the wrong thing to say. I returned his glare, but swung a questioning gaze over my shoulder to Har. He had angry eyes pinned to Brute, but he felt my look. His head tipped just enough to tell me to get on with things.
As I walked toward Dixon, I saw Diana’s bound feet extend out and I stopped. I tilted my head down to give her a glare. She made muffled noises behind her gag. Part of me wanted to hear what she had to say, but the other part of me knew it wouldn’t be worth hearing.
When I pulled even with Dixon, I shot a look over my shoulder to Joules. “Would you mind taking his gag out? I need to talk to him.”
Joules grimaced. “Lady, if you’re after that original—”
I shook my head. “I resigned myself to the original being gone a long time ago. As easy as it is to make copies, it’s a lost cause. But I know I’m not his only mark. So, I want to ask him some questions.”
“My president’s sanity is the only question worth asking right now,” Brute muttered.
Like a flash, Roman shoved Brute against the wall by the lapels of his cut. As big and brawny as Brute was I couldn’t imagine how much force that required, but then I noticed Har was at Roman’s back trying to shove Roman out of his way.
Yowza.
Every time I thought I knew how deep their brotherhood ran, I was wrong. I admired Roman in a new way for putting himself between Har and Brute. Those two had fought like hell even when they were teenagers. I could only imagine how they fought as adults.
My imaginings were cut short when Joules dragged Har away from Roman and Brute.
“Get your shit together, Harmful.”
Har dislodged Joules’s hold with a vicious roll of his shoulders. He stalked to Dixon and tugged the gag free, but not before he got in Dixon’s face. “You answer her questions straight or I dunk this gag in the bucket before shoving it back in your mouth.”
Dixon turned his dead-eyed gaze to me.
“Why did you go to the gym to see my sister?”
He smiled and I wondered what I ever saw in him.
“My sister called me and said a woman named Stephanie was living with her man. I laughed and said I used to live with a woman with that name, and her last name was Combes. Diana said that was your name, too.”
That didn’t answer my question, but I had to wonder how Diana had my last name. My question must have been written on my face and he laughed at my expense.
“Not hard to pilfer through mail before it’s collected. You always were such a dumbass.”
Har let out a growl, but I shook my head at him.
“Believe me, I’ve smartened up since you. None of that answers why you went to the gym.”
He shrugged. “Told Di, I had the perfect way to get him out of town. Knew if I visited your sister, you’d tell him and he’d split to find me.”
One look at Har and I knew not to say anything about the Riot brothers in Jacksonville.
Dixon continued. “Then Di could take her sweet time fucking up your shit inside his place.”
I tamped down my urge to yank his sister’s hair out by the roots. Barely. “And you drove all the hell-way out here, why? To fuck with me while Har was gone?”
His face twisted as if I disgusted him. “You stole Diana’s man, and she’s pregnant with his baby. Figured I would force you out of the picture.”
Dixon’s disappointment when I didn’t react to his sister’s so-called pregnancy almost made me smile.
Across the room, Roman laughed. “Asshole, you need to give that shit up. Your sister couldn’t hold her bladder earlier. I dipped a pregnancy test into her bucket. She isn’t pregnant.”
After a deep breath, I asked, “How many others?”
“Just you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I meant the identity theft.”
He stared past me, and clammed up. Har lunged for the bucket under Diana’s chair. Dixon whipped his eyes at Har, but said, “Seven since you. Four before.”
My chin dipped with a nod, and I realized Har was right. What he did in the past couldn’t be changed, and it didn’t help knowing about it.
Still, my curiosity got the better of me. “You live with those people?”
He nodded. “My girlfriend expects me back tonight.”
From the corner of my eye I saw Roman and Joules exchange a look, but something told me he was lying.
I turned to see Roman staring at me. “You have his phone, don’t you? I would think a girlfriend would’ve called sometime today. We women like to know when men are going to hit the road and all that shit which makes us a general nag.”
I arched a brow at Dixon because, as Wycliffe, he’d always said I nagged too much.
He made a noise in the back of his throat, and I stepped backward before he could spit at me. Har was moving to hit him, but I threw a hand out to stop him. I’d had enough. My anger had been simmering from the moment the prospect questioned my presence. An attempt to spit at me pushed everything to the boiling point.
I shuffled my feet a little. Then I clenched my fist and socked him on the side of his nose. I thought I heard a crack, but for all I knew it was my imagination – though with my luck it was probably one of my bones breaking.
Blood poured from Dixon’s nose and he was twisting violently in his restraints. I assumed he wanted to put his hands on his nose. Diana was screaming behind her gag and glaring at me.
I turned to leave, but Har asked, “Why’d you take the pictures?”
My lips parted, but luckily my jaw didn’t drop wide open.
I noticed Dixon looked between us both. “Knew my time would be up soon. She’s got great fuckin’ tits, and they’re real. Opportunity presented itself since she sleeps like a log. Couldn’t believe she fell asleep with the fuckin’ light on. I wanted a souvenir, but after I took ’em, I realized they were a great insurance policy.”
“Insurance,” I breathed out before I turned back to the asshole, but Har stopped me.
“Nope. Told you, one lick. You did it, and you did good. Go to my room.”
“No,” I hissed.
“You promised,” he whispered.
The look on his face told me I had to stick by it, but I didn’t do it gracefully.
“Fine. But please, honey, fuck him up for me.”
His lips pressed together while he closed his eyes and I knew he fought laughing. That pleased me so much, I went up on tip-toes and brushed my lips against his, but his hands cupped my cheeks and he deepened the kiss just long enough to make me want more.
He rested his forehead against mine. “Go,” he whispered.
I scurried out of the shed. As I wandered back to the clubhouse, another biker I hadn’t met walked toward me. He carried a wooden bat in his hand. The patch on his cut read, “Massive,” and this guy certainly was. His long brown hair was slicked back in a low ponytail and his eyes raked up and down my body before he nodded at me.
When he came closer to me, he muttered, “Har’s a lucky son of a bitch.”
I gave him a small smile while I shook my head. His eyebrow arched and he stepped past me while speaking.
“But not that lucky.”
I wondered why Har wasn’t that lucky just before pain exploded on the back of my head and everything went black.
***
Har
AFTER THE DOOR SHUT behind Stephanie, Har threw a roundhouse punch to the opposite side of Dixon’s head.
“You used a woman as insurance. You’re fucking scum.”
Diana kept screaming behind her gag and he turned venomous eyes to her. “Shut the fuck up or I can break your nose, too.”
Her eyes went stunned before they glared at him anew.
Roman wandered up behind Dixon. “I agree he deserves serious punishment, but unless the plan’s changed, he needs to keep his damn teeth, Prez.”
He lifted his chin at Roman and looked over his shoulder at Brute. His brother’s eyes were livid, his nostrils flared with his breathing, and he hated what he had to say.
“I know you want vengeance, but you heard the man.” He tipped his head for a moment before he smiled. “At least we know he’s gonna burn.”
“What the fuck?” Dixon roared, reminding Har he had to re-gag him.
Joules sidled up to Roman behind Dixon, who was flailing wildly. “Now you did it, Harmful. You know better than that. Or at least you fuckin’ used to.”
Once Roman and Joules controlled the man, Har was able to stuff the bandana back in his mouth. He shook his head. “You couldn’t possibly think you were gonna get out of this shit alive.”
He faced Brute who quivered with anger. “Yo, brother. We good?”
Brute’s gaze never left Dixon. “We’re good. But, I’m cuttin’ his fuckin’ dick off before he dies.”
Har grinned. “Call Roll. He can tell you how it’s done.”
Brute glared at him, but Dixon’s face paled and his eyes were round as saucers.
Cynic and Block walked into the room. Cynic twirled his key chain on his finger. “Truck’s pulled up.” He looked at Roman. “You ready to do this shit?”
Roman’s chin dipped at an angle. “Has the sun even set?”
“Nearly dark now. It’ll definitely be dark when we get them where they’re going,” Block muttered.
Har nodded. “Gamble and Tiny still watchin’ the place?”
Block and Cynic nodded.
“Load ’em up. We’ll leave as soon as I grab something from my room.”
“Better not be Stephanie,” Brute grumbled.
“Thought we were cool?”
Brute shook his head. “Sorry. Givin’ you shit comes naturally.”
Har held his gaze a moment. “More like bein’ a shit comes naturally to you.”
He stalked out and went to the clubhouse. Entering through the back door, he saw Sandy puttering around in the kitchen before he beelined to his room. After he shoved open the door, he knew something was wrong.
“Stephanie?” he called out while he moved to the bathroom.
A ball of acid formed in his gut when he found the room empty.
“Stephanie!” he hollered and stormed out to the common room.
Sandy stepped aside in the hallway before he plowed into her. “Har, what’s wrong? Stephanie isn’t here.”
He scowled at her. “She was on the back of my bike an hour ago, Sandra. Twenty minutes ago she left the shed and I told her to come in here, go to my room and stay there.”
Sandy’s face fell before she shook her head. “She never came in here. I’ve been here since four o’clock. She isn’t—”
He whirled away and slammed out the back door, yelling Stephanie’s name as he jogged back to the shed.
Brute rounded the back of Cynic’s truck. “What the fuck, man? Why you yelling—”
“Stephanie’s gone! She rode on the back of my bike with me, so she doesn’t have wheels. Where the fuck is she?”
Brute’s nostrils flared. “Dixon’s still in the room. Let’s ask him if he’s got a fuckin’ accomplice.”
The acidic feeling in his stomach intensified and a hollow ache formed in his chest.
“Goddammit! This shit is not fuckin’ happening.” Har growled.
Brute stood outside the shed telling the others what had happened.
Joules stepped in front of him.
“Pull it together, Prez. My brother-in-law has a hound. That dog’ll pick up her scent in no time, if you got somethin’ of hers for him to sniff.”
Har didn’t know if he did, but any effort was better than nothing. He lifted his chin and barged into the shed.
“You work your shit alone?” he demanded.
Bewilderment filled Dixon’s eyes and he shook his head while muffled sounds came from the gag. Har yanked it out.
“Talk, dammit.”
“Work what shit alone?”
Har glared, and Dixon continued. “Skimming money from women? Yeah, that’s just me. All me. I don’t have anyone else.”
“Why should I believe you?” he hissed.
Fear washed over the bastard’s face. “Why would I lie?”
Har crouched to let a punch fly at Dixon’s gut. “I don’t fuckin’ know, but you better be tellin’ the truth.”
Brute wandered up beside him. “If he ain’t got a partner, where the fuck is she?”
He drove a hand through his hair. “Fuck if I know, man.”
Roman cleared his throat and Har turned around.
“What is it, Roman?”
“I know you’re focused on finding your woman, but we aren’t the only ones able to figure out our brothers purchased a cookhouse. If we’re executing this plan, we gotta do it tonight. The sooner the better.”
Har’s fists clenched, but Brute stepped in front of him. “Why? What’s the rush?”
“Detective Dennizen paid a visit to us already. They’re gonna be keepin’ an eye on us. A truck leaving the compound followed by three or four of us on our bikes is gonna raise flags.”
“That’s why we’re using the back gate for those of us on bikes,” Brute said.
Har tilted his head back. Staring at the ceiling he blew out a frustrated sigh. Roman had a point but Har had to find his woman. How in the hell could she be missing? It was a short walk to the clubhouse...
“Call Gamble. Now.”
Brute put his phone on speaker. “Veep, what’s the status?” Gamble asked in greeting.
“Where’s Tiny?” Har demanded.
“Prez, he’s right here. You want to—”
“You’re certain Mass and Wreck are in that house?”
Gamble made a noise. “Uh, Wreck’s bike is here, but—”
Brute took the call off speaker, and put the phone to his ear. “Your orders were to make sure both those fuckers were in the house. Tiny said they were both there. What the fuck?”
Har held his hand out for the phone. Brute shook his head.
“So neither of you checked for Massive’s bike since you been there? Fuckin’ hell.”
Cynic moved closer to the huddle. He spoke low so Brute wouldn’t be distracted. “Massive’s bike was there at three, but he’d parked it out back.”
Har asked, “There a back way out?”
Cynic glanced to the side while he thought about it, but Block had joined them.
Block said, “Yeah, but the gate was rusted and we didn’t figure it would open.”
He grabbed the lapels of Block’s cut and rushed forward, but Brute pulled him back. “Stop, Mike. Tiny confirmed Massive’s bike isn’t in the back any longer. Let’s get out there and look for—”
Joules opened the door. “She’s in the woods.”
All their eyes swung his way.
“That don’t make any sense,” Brute said.
Har agreed, but he stormed past his men and broke into a run once he was out the door. He saw Sandy walking along the edge of the property with her phone to her ear. The closer he came to her, the clearer he could hear the ringing of Stephanie’s phone.
Thank God!
He heard the pounding of his brothers’ footsteps behind him. He turned around to catch Brute’s gaze. “Get to my room. This isn’t right. Why leave her in the fuckin’ woods on property? He’s up to some shit.”
Brute got two feet away when Wreck came out the back door of the clubhouse, aiming a gun at them. He heard a gun cock from behind him and he knew Cynic had pulled his gun.
Har strode toward him, yelling, “Where is Stephanie?”
Wreck’s brown eyes narrowed. “Your yes-man shoots me, you’ll never find out.”
“Cynic won’t kill you, dumbass. He’ll shoot out your knee,” Brute said.
Wreck shook his head. “He shoots, I kill Har.”
“You mean to kill me? Why?”
“You’ve let this club go to shit. We’re one-percenters in name only. It didn’t used to be that way.”
“So, rather than renounce the club, you’re going to take the presidency from me, even if it means going down for murder?”
Wreck stood a foot from Har. “You’re going to renounce the club. I’m going to strip your tat and if that doesn’t kill you, I’ll let you live.”
Brute, in the slowest move possible, pulled his gun from his waistband.
Block who stood well away from Brute diverted Wreck’s attention, allowing Brute to take aim. “So what were you doing in the fuckin’ clubhouse? Movin’ in to Har’s room?”
Wreck chuckled but it held no humor. “No. I freed my only ally since you’re too stupid to put him in the shed. Cynic, drop your gun or I’m killing Har before I kill you.”
“Prez, what do you say? You feel like dyin’ today? Or do you want me to follow this asshole’s order?”
Wreck was only watching Cynic and Har, so Brute had been able to move closer to him. Har spoke so Wreck wouldn’t catch on. “I’m not dying today, ’Nic. Lower your piece.”
As he spoke, Har kept his eye on the gun. Something told him Wreck would shoot him regardless, so he lunged fast enough to grab his wrist and had to pray the gun wasn’t pointed at anyone behind him. Wreck struggled against him until another shot rang out. In an instant, the fight drained out of Wreck and Har let the body hit the ground.
Brute still had his gun trained on Wreck. He sidled up to the body. “Feel like shootin’ his ass again.”
Before anyone could respond, a shout could be heard from the front gate. The men ran forward, though from the corner of his eye he saw Joules hang back. He heard him direct Sandy to go inside his room and lock the door.
Rounding the corner of the clubhouse, they stopped short to prevent a collision with Mensa and Finn, the prospect manning the gate. The two of them were restraining Carter, who had been tied up in Brute’s room.
“That’s what the fuck he was up to,” Brute muttered.
Har yanked Carter away and shoved him against the wall. “Where the fuck is Stephanie?”
Carter’s eyes gleamed with malice. “Fuck you.”
He slammed a fist into Carter’s gut. “Wreck’s dead. Whatever he promised you is gone. Where the fuck is my woman?”
His bravado slipped a fraction. “You’re a liar.”
Har pulled him around the corner of the building. “His body’s right over there, dumbass. Now get smart. Where is my woman?”
Block ambled up to them. “Take his ass to the shed, Har. I’ll go review the camera footage.”
Carter jerked with a chuckle. “Good luck.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Har demanded.
Brute took off into the clubhouse. He returned moments later. “My room isn’t the only room Wreck busted into, he was in Block’s room. Bashed your computer to shit.”
Block clenched his teeth and shook his head. “That’s some bullshit, but I’ll still have access to the cameras. That shit goes to the cloud. Gimme a moment while I pull it from my phone.”
Har handed Carter off to Mensa and Cynic. Not knowing what happened to Stephanie had his stomach in knots and it felt like his heart had stopped beating.
If she was dead...
He couldn’t let himself think it. She had to be alive. She had to be.
Har didn’t pray often, but during the interminable wait for Block to tell him anything, he sent up the most heartfelt prayer he’d said in years.
He’d finally found the right woman. He wasn’t late, and she wasn’t hung up on someone else. He didn’t just want her back. He needed her back.
All of this left him feeling things he hadn’t felt since his father died.
Aching.
Helpless.
Desperate.