Chapter Five.
Harley
“H arley,” Dylan Hawthorne said as he answered the phone.
“Yo, I was wondering if you had an update.”
“Leila just dropped the file on my desk. We have some bare bones, but finding information on Oakley is hard. People appear to be tight-lipped about her,” Dylan responded.
“That seems strange.” “Leila’s going to keep digging. So far, we’ve discovered Oakley is twenty-three years old and turns twenty-five in eighteen months. That’s important. Her surname is Ferguson, and she is an only child. Oakley’s lived in Illinois all her life, attending college there too. She has two living parents but no grandparents on either side.
“Oakley studied an electronics course. Leila has spoken to a few people who attended classes with Oakley. They say she kept herself to herself and didn’t mix with anyone. Oakley didn’t have any friends worth mentioning. One report said there was another girl Oakley seemed close to, but the unknown female didn’t attend the college. Once Oakley graduated, she puttered about and was employed part time in the mornings in a local shop.”
“Oakley worked in a shop? After getting training as an electrician?” I asked, surprised.
“Yes. That appears strange. Then, one day, Oakley didn’t arrive for work. Her mother informed them that Oakey wouldn’t be returning. The following morning, Oakley’s engagement was announced, and after that, Oakley vanished from public view.”
“Three years at the shop, and she quit without notice?” I asked, my mind trying to figure the puzzle out.
“Yes. Leila did track down the unknown girl. Her name is Aspen Ferguson. She’s Oakley’s older cousin. Aspen disappeared a year ago with her son Archer, a disabled boy with autism. Aspen is also shrouded in mystery,” Dylan said.
“Is there anything else?”
“Gossip says the grandfather who died a few years ago was an inventor. Apparently, Oakley and Aspen would spend a lot of time with him. There are rumours of an invention that could change green energy and was worth a ton of money. But nothing concrete; however, there was interest in missing patents and plans.”
“What about the parents?”
“They’re interesting folks. Social climbers and greedy to a fault. The husband, Edmond Ferguson, made money in banking while Sarah Ferguson was a stay-at-home mom. Neither seemed overly interested in family. Edmond’s mother died before he married Sarah. They didn’t spend much time with Edmond’s father until towards the end when rumours of this invention got out.
“Whatever that was, it made both Sarah and Edmond scour the house looking for plans. I’m trying to track down the lawyer to discover the contents of the will. Neither parent appeared to inherit anything. Sarah and Edmond are also part of a closed church community. They recruit, but there isn’t much known about it. They are very religious and, by all accounts, close to the head, Reverend Jeffrey Coulston. He has a son, Bronson Coulston.”
“The Bronson that Oakley was running from,” I replied.
“Seems to be the same, yes. We’ll keep digging,” Dylan said and cut the call.
Shoving everything out of my mind, I began working on the finish for the dagger.
Oakley
Relieved, I relaxed against the bed, worn out. After Harley left this morning, I’d showered and dressed; then Summer had popped in for a visit, and boy, could she talk.
Summer made a joke, saying that she used to be henpecked by her mother and had been quite the recluse, but now look at her. Summer explained her chattiness was the old ladies encouraging her to be herself.
Honestly, I was a little envious of how she revelled in her husband Slick’s love. I did find the situation strange. But Summer was secure that Slick and Irish, albeit in different ways, loved her.
Gunner arrived just gone noon, and Summer left with him, and then I ordered lunch. While eating, I downloaded some books and began reading a new witchy one by my favourite author.
Klutz came next, and Vivie popped in on her way home. I was looking at the menu, deciding what to order for dinner, when my mobile rang. Considering only Harley had the number, I answered it.
“Oakley…” a voice hissed down the line.
Scared, I slammed the phone down and turned it off.
Bronson!
How the hell had Bronson got my new number? Panicked, I recalled how they drowned and broke phones in films and did the same.
I started rocking back and forth on the bed, unsure what to do. Without thinking, I stood and gasped with pain. No, I couldn’t walk yet. But I couldn’t stay here. Did the fact they’d traced my phone mean they had tracked me? Panic set in as I began to hyperventilate when there was a tap at the door sounded.
A whimper escaped as the knock repeated. I curled into a ball and covered my ears.
Was that Bronson? My parents? Then I wondered what the hell I was doing? If it was them, I’d create such a fuss that they’d never get me out. The knock was louder, and I climbed into the chair and opened the door. Harley stood there, staring down at me in concern.
“You okay?” he asked, entering.
“Yes and no,” I said as I shifted back onto the bed.
“That’s ambiguous.”
“I had a good day, but a few minutes ago, my phone rang,” I explained.
“One of the girls?” Harley questioned.
“Bronson.”
“What the fuck?” Harley exploded, coming to his feet.
“It scared me. So, I disconnected and then drowned the cell.”
“That would work,” Harley replied with a dry chuckle that held no humour. “Did you register the cell?”
“Yes,”
“Damn, they must have someone scanning for you. When did you do it?”
“Last night, once it had charged. I didn’t realise they could track me through it,” I answered, aghast.
“Oakley, you can be tracked through anything electronical. That’s why I warned you about the bank account,” Harley said.
I felt like he was chiding me and bristled. “Well, we’re not all criminals!” I exclaimed.
Harley’s eyes narrowed, and I wished I could take the words back.
“Apparently not,” Harley stated, getting up. “This criminal will leave you alone. Avoid logging into devices, such as your book account.” Harley strode to the door in quick steps and opened it. My gut twisting because I’d been in the wrong; I surged up off the bed and cried out as I landed painfully on my feet.
“Oakley!” Harley snapped, as I struggled to stay upright and stop him. Harley’s hands caught my arms, and he lifted me effortlessly.
“Sorry, I was out of line. I didn’t mean those words, and you’ve been nothing but kind to me. Please, I’m so sorry. That was so unkind of me. Harley, I don’t think you are a criminal and shouldn’t have been so judgemental. That was damn cruel!” I babbled as I clutched at his shoulders.
“Oakley, calm down. It’s not a problem. Insults happen. You’re scared, I understand,” Harley said, pulling my hands from his shoulders as he laid me back on the bed.
“Don’t go. Please,” I begged.
Harley caught my wrists and tugged them together.
“Oakley, I won’t leave. That’s a promise. But we’re going to need to review your security. I’m not so sure that you’re safe here now. They might have tracked your phone to this hotel,” Harley said.
“What should we do?”
Panic swirled in my gut. It was highly possible my parents, Reverend Jeffrey, or Bronson, were on their way.
“We have to leave,” I cried, trying to get up.
“Honey, I don’t disagree. However, we need somewhere with security, and there’s only one place I can think of,” Harley stated, and looked worried.
“Where?” I demanded, Harley’s concern triggering mine.
“Reading Hall,” Harley said grimly and with a wince.
“Your parent’s home? Didn’t you say your mom…? Oh no! Harley, I can’t!” I exclaimed. The shock of the phone call faded compared to the fear of meeting Phoenix Michaelson and her apparent raging urge for grandchildren.
“We can try another hotel, but what’s the betting if they’ve traced you to Rapid City, then they’ll check every other place. And if they get a description from here that you can’t walk, it would be easy to find you,” Harley replied.
Harley rose and walked to the door.
“Order us some food, Oakley, I’ll go fetch some suitcases. You’re going to Reading Hall.”
Harley left before I could argue another word.
Harley
Damn. Helping a damsel in distress was getting complicated. I’d not envisioned any of this when I had stopped and picked Oakley up. She’d made a foolish mistake of registering the phone. A rather stupid error on her part. Surely, most people realised a registered cell could be tracked nowadays.
It didn’t matter.
A wrench had been thrown into the mix, and now I had to take Oakley home. I could only imagine Mom’s response. This was going to set Mom off. Especially as it was on top of Christmas. I knew exactly where Mom’s mind would go.
Annoyed, I grabbed two suitcases from Winterfell’s and walked back to the hotel. By the time I returned, dinner arrived a few moments later, and after we’d eaten, I began packing Oakley’s stuff while she argued with me.
“Oakley! Do you want to stay out of the hands of your parents, Reverend Jeffery, and Bronson? If you do, then behave and let me help you. Yeah, no bullshit, Mom is going to read shit into this, but there’s nowhere else for you to go.”
“Then why are we doing this? Harley, I just need somewhere until I can walk, and then, if I stay free for eighteen months, I’ll be safe.”
“Why that long?”
“Because the terms of the will kick in. After I turn twenty-five or get married, they can’t touch anything,” Oakley blurted.
I paused. “This is about money?”
“More than that. A shit ton of money is at stake, which is what they desire. For me, it’s about a lot more—a legacy, in fact,” Oakley replied.
I continued packing. “And if you are married, then you’re safe?”
“Yeah, the will states that.”
“So, let’s get married,” I suggested and wondered what the hell had just left my mouth.
“What?”
“Yeah, I don’t believe I said that either,” I replied.
“You suggested we marry.” Oakey was stunned.
“Yes, I did.”
“Because I mentioned money?” Oakley asked.
“Hey, I’m no fuckin’ ponce. Oakley, I’ve got no idea how much is involved here, but I have my own trust fund. And my business is worth a lot and growing daily. Will that be at risk from you?”
“No! Of course not. But Harley, we don’t know each other,” Oakley argued.
For some reason, now it mattered that Oakley didn’t turn me down. It might be perverse, but it was a matter of honour.
“Luckily, I know a lawyer who can draw up a prenuptial agreement, and then we’ll head down the courthouse tomorrow. We can keep this secret, but if they do track you down, they can’t force you to marry Bronson. Plus, you can set this will thing in motion.”
Oakley suddenly looked interested. “And I would get power of attorney,” she whispered.
“Yes,” I said, nodding without knowing what I was agreeing to. But Oakley getting power of attorney seemed important to her.
“And you’ll sign a prenup?”
“I have a nine-figure trust fund to protect. There’ll be a prenup,” I insisted.
Honestly, even if Oakley took half of it in a divorce, I wouldn’t be hard done by. The damn fund continued growing as Mom’s investment broker kept making some blinding deals.
“Okay. How long for?”
“Well, I’m guessing that if we separate before twenty-five, you might be at risk again. Let’s say after your birthday.” Now I was getting my own way, I felt strangely pleased. I was quite prepared to bend to convince Oakley to obey my wishes.
“That would make sense. But getting married? Harley, I ran away from a wedding, which led me here. I’m not exactly in a rush to walk down the aisle,” Oakley demurred.
“Trust me, neither am I. And when Mom finds out… she’s going to expect a love story. Mom and Dad hammered that into our heads. Don’t get married apart from love. But you’ll be my wife, not my old lady. The Michaelson surname will protect you and let you do as you need. We can head to the courthouse. I can get us a licence tomorrow, and it won’t matter if we use your identification, because you will be safe.”
“Ummm,” Oakley muttered.
“Your fear was marrying Bronson. You’re prepared to run to avoid Bronson. Being hitched to me means you can settle down and not run and do what you need to do,” I suggested.
Oakley was wavering, and I could see it.
“We can get married tomorrow?” Oakley asked.
“Yup. Even if the courthouse hasn’t got a slot, Axel is qualified to perform legal marriages. He’s wedded nearly all of Rage now,” I replied.
“And you’re certain it can be done?”
“Yes. One hundred per cent.”
“This will be just an arranged marriage? And you’ll tell your parents that too? And the rest of your friends? I don’t want any nastiness,” Oakley murmured.
“There won’t be.”
“Okay, you’ve got a deal!” Oakley grinned.
“Good. Now, I’m getting you out of here,” I said as Oakley paled and looked scared. “And we’ll stay at the clubhouse. I’ll carry your cases over and come back for you.”
“I won’t have to face your parents?” Oakley asked.
“Not tonight. Tomorrow is a different story. I’ll call Jodie and Fanatic. Jodie is my eldest sister; she’s two years older than me.”
“Fanatic’s your brother, that’s correct, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, his name is Micah, but his club name is Fanatic. It’s funny because Mom is a sister in Hellfire MC, our brother’s club. When they’re at Hellfire or on Rage, Mom calls him Fanatic, but at home, he’s Micah. The same with Tye, whose name is Ice, and Carmine, who is called Shutout.”
Oakley frowned. “That’s strange.”
“No. Shutout is a baseball player, and he pitched a perfect game.”
“Carmine Michaelson, is your brother? Of course he is! The Michaelson should give it away. Damn, that was a good game,” Oakley exclaimed.
“Yeah, Carmine’s my bro. The club’s been calling Carmine a load of names, but none seemed to stick. Shutout will.”
“What’s yours?” Oakley asked, and I liked her interest.
“They tried Smithy, then Sword and Dagger. None stuck. I think I’m going to be Harley, which is fine. Ezra and Lex have their real names,” I replied.
“I like Harley,” Oakley replied shyly.
“It’s certainly a biker name. I’m gonna take these over and will come back,” I said, picking up the two cases I’d packed.
“Okay, I’ll do the toiletries. And housekeeping returned all the clothes I sent to be washed, so there’s nothing down there,” Oakley replied.
I nodded and headed out. The hotel was a ten-minute walk to the clubhouse, so I didn’t bother with calling a ride. As I approached, I saw Cody’s Fat Boy and Jared’s Breakout parked up. I winced when I noticed Dad’s Lowrider alongside Ace, Apache, and Texas’s bikes. Klutz, Gunner, and Rock were also present.
Great.
At the gate, Jared eyed my two suitcases with suspicion. “What the fuck, bro? You’re not leaving home? Mum will freak the fuck out.”
I laughed at my eighteen-year-old brother. “Mom would hunt me down. Nah, this is for a friend.”
“A friend?” Jared perked up. I easily read his mind. Jared had gossip nobody else had. My little brother couldn’t be more obvious.
“Yes, Jared. And listen, one hundred bucks to keep shit quiet. She’s on the run,” I said and regretted it as Jared’s eyes gleamed.
“She?”
“You want the goss? Keep your damn mouth shut, and I’ll tell you everything tomorrow. In fact, I’ll need you in the morning. Stick around,” I ordered.
Jared nodded and let me pass through the gate.
Luck must have been on my side, because the rec room was empty when I entered it. I knew the brothers were here somewhere, but I managed to dump Oakley’s stuff in my room.
Jared let me out.
“I’ll be back soon,” I said, and Jared tilted his chin.
“Not a problem, Harley.”
When I returned to Oakley, I almost cursed. Four additional bags of women’s crap lay on the bed.
Oakley looked sheepish. “The old ladies went overboard,” she spoke before I could.
“A bit. Never mind. Can you carry two on your lap, and I manage the rest?” I questioned.
“Yeah. Can you check the closet and everything to make sure I’ve not left anything?” Oakley asked.
I gave the room a quick scour and discovered a couple of things Oakley had missed. I shoved them into a bag and lifted Oakley into the wheelchair. On the way out, I stopped by reception and paid the bill.
“Are you warm enough?” I questioned as I pushed her into the street.
“Have we got far to go?”
“Ten minutes or so,” I replied.
“I’ll be okay,” Oakley said. I glanced down at her and noticed she was wearing jeans, a jumper, the jacket I’d bought her and thick socks. Yeah, she’d be fine for a few minutes.
Jared jerked upright as he saw me push Oakley in her wheelchair onto the forecourt. He opened the gate, and I pushed Oakley through.
“Jared, meet Oakley, she’s a… friend.”
“Hi. Welcome to Rage. Dad and the others are in a meeting,” Jared replied.
“No problem. I’ll take Oakley to my room,” I said, and Jared’s eyes lit up. “No bullshit, little brother,” I warned, and the light dimmed.
“Watch out for Cody, he’s about somewhere,” Jared grouched.
“Thanks.”
Praying that the rec room remained empty, I pushed Oakley in and relaxed. I headed for the elevator that had been installed when the new clubhouse had been built and hit the button.
The doors closed just as Cody appeared. He glimpsed me, but not Oakley. Phew.
Quickly, I wheeled Oakley into my room and showed her the bathroom.
“Would you like a drink?”
“Is this yours?” Oakley inquired, picking up a picture from my bedside table. It was one of all the kids with Mom and Dad in the middle. “Wow. When you see you all together, it’s amazing.”
“Yeah, there’s a lot. Peyton is the baby,” I said, smiling at my little sister and her huge grin.
“She is beautiful… and so is she. That’s Serenity, the model, right?” Oakley replied, touching a picture of me and Serenity. It was taken last year, and we were hugging each other with our heads turned to the camera.
“Yeah, Serenity’s fuckin’ stunning,” I replied softly, picking up the photo.
“Yeah. Harley, how can you marry me when she is your girlfriend? Won’t she get upset?” Oakley asked.
I chuckled. It seemed Oakley had forgotten I had told her Serenity was family.
“Serenity is liable to kick the ever-loving shit out of me for not telling her. But remember, she’s not a girlfriend but my sister,” I answered.
“Oh,” Oakley muttered and blushed.
I enjoyed that little kick of jealousy in Oakley’s eyes and suddenly realised there was a lot I liked about her. And that meant a shitload of trouble for me.