Hashtag

“This is the place.” Shelby pulls her car up to the curb of a large brick building near downtown. A large gold and black sign sits just outside of it with large letters reading Stratford and Goldman in block print. The sign alone screams expensive. It seems she’s got friends in high places.

“How did you get an appointment so fast?” I question. Unless she has an attorney on retainer, she shouldn’t have been able to book a same day appointment. The longer I think about it, the more I feel on edge. Shelby opens the door and slides out from behind the wheel without answering me.

“What the fuck?” I growl, reaching for the handle and bolting out of the passenger side, racing to catch up to her. Her heels click against the pavement as we approach the front of the building.

“Shelby!” I call out to her. Stopping, she spins around to face me. “I asked you a question back there, and you bolt out of the car like your hair's on fire. What’s going on?”

“The sooner we get in there, the closer we’ll be to getting Hayden back.” She chews on her bottom lip, just like she used to when she was nervous. We both want Hayden back—me more than anything—but there’s something else, lingering below the surface that she isn’t saying, and it’s bothering me. What am I about to walk in to?

“There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“It’s not important.”

“If you’re gnawing on your lip, it’s important.” Shelby releases her lip, and it’s red. Redder than I’ve ever seen it before.

“Come on, we’re going to be late.” Dismissing my hesitation, she charges forward and through the darkened glass doors. With a shake of my head, I tag along behind her until she stops at the reception desk in the center of the room.

“Name, please?” the perky little brunette behind the desk asks, her eyes growing wide when she notices me standing behind Shelby. I’ve seen that look a dozen times before. She’s hungry for something a little more dangerous, something off her normal menu. Shelby’s body tenses ever so slightly, and had I not been paying more attention to her than the little brunette, I would have missed it. Too bad for her, she isn’t on my radar, but she’s now on Shelby’s.

“Dawson. I’m here to see K—I mean, Mrs. Stratford. We have an appointment.”

“One moment, please.” Her fingers click over the keyboard, but her eyes linger on me for a few seconds longer before she peers at her screen. “Ah, yes. Her assistant called earlier with instructions for you to meet Mrs. Stratford in her private conference room. She should be joining you momentarily. Just take the elevator to the top floor.” She points a finger to the elevators, left of the reception hall. “Or, if you’d like a personal escort, I’d be happy to take you up.”

“No,” Shelby nearly growls, but quickly covers it up. “We can manage it on our own.” She turns to look at me over her shoulder before heading toward the aforementioned elevators. Her red, manicured finger presses against the button to call it at least a half a dozen times. I stifle a chuckle under my breath, but she catches me and scowls.

The elevator dings when it arrives. Once the doors slide open, we both step inside, silence encasing the small space between us as she bounces nervously on her heels.

“Still don’t like elevators?” I take a step closer to her, decreasing the space between us. “What if I do this?” I hop into the air, and she squeals when I land.

“You know how much I hate that, Wyatt.”

“Just trying to lighten the mood, sweetheart.” I shrug. “After that display of yours in the lobby, I thought you could use a laugh.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Oh, yes you do. She can try to hide it all she wants, but there’s still something there, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. “I just didn’t want to be late to our meeting.”

“You’re cute when you try to lie.” Her nostrils flare just enough to confirm it. She’s pissed that the receptionist took notice of me, and outwardly flirted right in front of her.

The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. Taking the opportunity to end the conversation, she exits. I step out of the elevator and onto what I can only assume is the executive level of the firm. A thin woman is greeting Shelby near the entrance of a large room when I approach, her face lighting up with fear when she sees me. Apparently, it’s not every day a biker walks into the penthouse suite of a firm like this.

Shelby turns to me with a serious look on her beautiful face. “Promise me, you won’t ruin this.”

I arch my brow, the uneasiness I felt earlier returning as I process her request. “Ruin what? All this lawyer friend of yours needs to do is their job, and everything will be fine.”

“Please, Wyatt.” Her voice wavers ever so slightly.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Just over Shelby’s shoulder, the door to the conference room opens, and on the other side is someone I never wanted to see again—Kasey.

“No fucking way. We’re leaving.” I reach for Shelby’s arm, but she jerks away from me, digging in her heels on her decision to consult with the bane of my existence about my daughter.

Kasey smiles. “I see nothing has changed with you, Wyatt. All these years, and you’re still playing a biker in your little biker gang. How are you not in prison?”

She eyes me up and down, just like she used to do when we were in high school. No matter how successful I could have been, I would never have measured up in Kasey’s eyes. Not that I’ve ever cared one fucking wink about what she thinks of me.

“Let’s move this conversation into the conference room. I don’t want to disturb my high-profile clients with this kind of unpleasantness.” Kasey moves farther into the room, leaving Shelby and I alone.

“Wyatt,” Shelby begs, a tear rolling down her face. “Please. We need her help.”

“Shelby, she’s the last person on earth I would ever ask a favor of, even for Hayden.” If Kasey is my only law-abiding option, I’ll find another way, with or without a court order.

“We need to try, Wyatt. You said it yourself that developers like this one don’t open their user list to anyone. We need that court order to get the records, and Kasey can do that for us.”

“Then why did you come to me if Kasey can help you? Why did you drag me into this?”

“Because you’re Hayden’s father, and the only person who could have gotten us to this point. Kasey can help us move that needle ahead. Please, you just have to talk to her and see what she can do.”

“I don’t like this. I don’t like that you lied to my face about just who this attorney friend of yours is, and I don’t like that you hid my daughter from me until you needed my help. In fact, I fucking hate all of this.”

“I know, but if we want to get this information, Kasey is the only attorney who can do it without waiting weeks for an appointment. She’s our only option.”

The only legal option she means. Before I even went to see her this morning, I’d considered sending a couple of the guys over to the developer’s office for a “friendly” meeting, but it was a risk. They could give us nothing in return. But with a court order, they’d have to hand over the information.

“Fine,” I growl. “But I need you to understand that if she opens that mouth of hers and spits out shit at me like she just did, I will walk and do this my way.”

With my reluctant agreement, I step inside the room with Shelby following behind me, closing the door. Kasey sits at the head of a large table with chairs tucked underneath each side. Just breathing the same air as this woman sends a course of rage sliding up my spine.

“Take a seat.” Kasey outstretches her hand to the empty seats next to her. Shelby settles into one, but I park my ass several more down, away from her. Taking notice of my placement, she rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to sit so far away, Wyatt.” Her voice is slick with contentment. She knows she got to me out there with her comment, playing right into her intent to piss me off.

“I’m close enough.”

Kasey turns her attention to Shelby and grips her hand tightly, her eyes softening as she looks at her. “Everything okay? You sounded upset when you called earlier, but I didn’t expect to hear you say you needed to see me, and that you’d be bringing him along.”

“It’s Hayden, Kase.”

Kasey’s eyes grow wide at the mention of my daughter’s name. “Does he…?”

“Yes, he knows. She was taken, Kase. Wyatt thinks she was chatting with someone on this game she likes to play, but we need a court order to get access to the user’s information to track him down.”

“Why didn’t you come to me first? You didn’t need to involve him with this, not after all these years.”

That’s when it hits me that Kasey knows about Hayden. How is that possible, unless… No. Shelby wouldn’t have done that to me.

“How does she know about Hayden, Shelby?” I say quietly, slowly pushing away from the table. Guilt is clear on her face. “Tell me. You owe me that much.”

“Wyatt, please. Now isn’t the time.”

“When would’ve been a good time to know that I had a kid? You’ve had twelve years to tell me, yet she knew before I did. I’m her fucking father, Shelby!”

“And where were you when she was born, Wyatt? Riding with your biker gang? What kind of life is that to raise a baby in? I gave Shelby and Hayden what you couldn’t—safety.”

Pointing in Kasey’s direction, I growl, “She was fucking there when Hayden was born and not me?”

“Wyatt…” She trails off, lowering her head.

“Who do you think rescued her from you?” Kasey spits out. “Someone had to be there for her.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, the thin grip I had on my self-control slips and cracks. I could have forgiven Shelby for a lot of things, but not this. There’s no coming back from this lie.

“It’s one thing that you hid my daughter from me until she vanished under your lack of parental control, but this? Her? I can’t.” I pivot on my heels and start for the door, stopping just short of ripping it off its hinges.

“Where are you going?” Shelby cries out.

“To find my daughter.”

I walk out the door without bothering to look back. There’s nothing left for me in that room now.