Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
STRIDER
ONE WEEK AGO…
I ’m mentally crossing off days on the calendar as if I were a child waiting for Christmas, counting down the time until I have a chance of seeing Jasmine again. I’m still working on a plan of how to engineer us coming face-to-face and practising what I can say when I get a chance.
I’ve missed her being around. Even the clubhouse seems less cheerful than it was. The bar is often unmanned, and minor fights have broken out between the club girls with no one to referee. It’s not only me feeling her absence. The atmosphere is different without her.
It’s not unusual to find copies of her books lying around, and brothers reading, or having them read to them. Or at least the salient parts. By now, even the most illiterate members know our suspicions about her past. It seems everyone has ideas, but none carry merit. Without more information, it’s hard for any of us to separate what might be real life from complete fiction. There’s a quota who think she’s exaggerating to make the plot more interesting, and others, like me, worrying she’s watered things down.
I doubt Jasmine knows how much of an impression she made on my brothers. There’s not one who isn’t concerned about where she is and how she’s getting on.
Now I’m heading into yet another church, knowing all eyes are upon me. If I hadn’t fucked up, Jasmine would be here with us now. Well, Brothers. No one can blame me more than I can myself.
Data’s hyped up. I can see that as soon as I enter. He can barely wait for me to get my ass on my seat, so I give him a nod.
“Mayhem’s a fuckin’ genius!” he announces, after my permission to speak. He then glances around.
My eyes widen in interest as Shotgun snorts. “Huh, the CIA, FBI plant in LA?”
Data seems incensed. “Whatever his background, he’s loyal to the Soulz.”
I raise my chin to support his assertion. The truth about where Mayhem came from or how he knows what he knows is buried deep under levels of security that only the man himself knows how to navigate. But Mayhem survived beatdown after beatdown as brothers doubted he was anything but a plant, and eventually earned the trust of those around him. I know his prez supports him, and if he’s come up with something interesting, I want to know.
Cutting through the shit, I get down to business. “What has Mayhem found out?”
Data bounces in his seat, barely able to contain himself. “He’s found who Jasmine really is.”
“What the fuck?”
“How?”
“Who?”
Everyone starts talking at once. As the questions fly at Data, I bang the gavel and keep knocking wood against wood until everyone shuts up. “Let the man fuckin’ speak,” I growl.
Data nods appreciatively at me and starts to explain. “Mayhem’s got searches that he can set up. They keep trawling on minimal data and then sift through the hits. All we knew was the name Frobisher, and that person was a grandmother.” He pauses to shake his head. “How Mayhem found a needle when we didn’t even know where the haystack was is a miracle, but we ought to be fuckin’ thankful he did.” Another break for breath. “Frobisher was the grandmother’s maiden name to make it more difficult. But the long and short of the matter is that Jasmine seems to be a Katrina James, who got married to a Barclay Aster. Just like in the book, Katrina’s father ate a bullet.” He glances at me. “But unlike in her story, it looks like Katrina was in the vicinity at the time, which led to the police investigating her for murder. The case was dropped when only his fingerprints were found on the gun.”
“She was in the vicinity?” I repeat, my eyes on Data. “You saying she fuckin’ saw him do it?” What she’d written in the book was bad enough, but this? It’s worse than I thought.
Data gives a shrug. “It’s highly likely. Or at least, she was the one who found him.”
Jesus. I wipe my hand over my face and concentrate on what Data is saying.
“Mayhem did some digging among his underground contacts. Seems Jasmine was married to Barclay to pay off Daddy’s debts and he was holding Daddy’s continuing existence over her head to keep her by his side. Then when Barclay didn’t get what he wanted from her—apparently he thought she was barren and couldn’t give him a child, he pimped her out to his friends.” My jaw drops. It had to have been Barclay’s fault. She’d fallen with me fast and despite precautions. But Data hasn’t finished. “Daddy somehow learned what was happening and it didn’t settle well with him. Seems he thought taking his own life was the only way for her to get free.”
Exhaling a breath, I lean back, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat. I always wondered why a girl like Jasmine would be willing to whore herself out to a one-percent motorcycle club. Now, it hits me that she was used to her body being used and was prepared for that to continue if it kept her out of her ex’s clutches. “She came to us for protection.”
“Would have been a fuck of a lot better if she’d come clean and admitted who she was and who she was running from,” Shout growls.
Data’s shaking his head. I raise an eyebrow toward him. “Reckon she thought we wouldn’t have taken her in if we’d known. Barclay Aster is the fuckin’ mob.”
“And we’re Soulz!” Buzz slams his hand on the table.
Mex taps his fingers. “Is there anything really to worry about? Daddy, who owed the debt, is gone. Katrina, or Jasmine as we know her, has been here for three years. Presumably, this Barclay has moved on.”
Again, Data’s head moves from side to side. “Barclay was legitimately married to her. Word is he wants an heir and can’t get married until he can prove desertion, which has a few years to go yet. Also…” his voice trails off.
I grimace, interpreting the expression on his face. “And?” I don’t think I want to know the answer.
After pressing his lips together, Data opens them to explain. “I don’t think she realises it, but she was her daddy’s sole heir. He might have had debts when he died, but he was asset-rich, and on his death, those could be realised. Barclay still wants the money he’s owed. Mayhem says he’s found evidence that Barclay hasn’t stopped looking for her. And…” again, he pauses, but I don’t need to prompt him again. “Mayhem reckons he’s probably got close to the same resources he has. Using the name Frobisher might be her downfall.”
I draw in breath. If this Barclay knows what we do…
“He’ll be waiting for her at Motorcycles, Mobsters and Mayhem?” Shotgun voices my thoughts aloud.
“Don’t think we can discount it, VP.”
I pick up the gavel, play with it, then slam it down. “Then we’re going to Dallas. We’ll be there in force. This Barclay will die before he gets his hands on Jasmine.”
Buzz stands up, leaning over the table, pressing down on it with both hands. He stares me straight in the eye. “And why should we fuckin’ bother?” he spits out. “Why pit the Soulz up against the mob?” He glances around the table. “Sure, we all like Jasmine, but she’s just a club girl, and not even one who many of us enjoyed.” His eyes come back to mine. “Tell us why we should put our lives on the line for this particular bitch?”
I get to my feet so fast my chair crashes onto the floor. Spittle flies out of my mouth as I tell him exactly how it is. “Because she’s fuckin’ mine!” I roar.
I’m not sure who starts the handclap, but in retrospect, I think it might have been Mex. But the sound of palms mashing together is repeated until it’s a cacophony that hurts my ears.
“‘Bout fuckin’ time, Prez,” Tequila shouts, banging his meaty palm down on the table and glaring until people lower their hands. “Now let’s formulate a plan to get our First Lady back where she needs to be.”
My old lady? Well, damn it, doesn’t that sound right? Something settles inside me as I admit that at last. Okay, so maybe after everything, she’ll take some persuading to throw in her lot with me, but I’ll do all I fucking can to persuade her. She’s no substitute for Anna. She’s got her own place in my heart.
It dawns on me that I might be free, but she’s not and won’t be until… “We need to get Barclay Aster out of the way.”
Shotgun raises and lowers his chin. “Doubt he’s going to sign divorce papers. She’s still married to him, and whether she knows it or not, she’s an heiress.”
“Is that an option?” Madman asks. “Look, Prez, you know we’ll have your back, but the mob’s not people to be trifled with. What if she agrees to give Barclay the money she owes? Maybe he’ll back off.”
Mex shakes his head. “Man like that won’t want to lose face. If he’s been chasing her tail for three years, he won’t let her off lightly.”
Madman’s suggestion was a good one, but like Mex, I doubt it will work. I hate to admit it, but for him, it’s cleaner if she dies, and then he’ll gain from her inheritance. And with his connections, I suspect he knows ways he’ll get away with it without her blood on his hands or her death being traced back to him.
Buzz clears his throat. “I think the question we should discuss is how we actually provide her cover.” I raise my chin toward him. From experience, I know my sergeant-at-arms has something to say, and I want to hear it. “We can go en masse to the signing event, but it’s not going to be easy for us to get close to her.”
“It’s not open to the public?” Shout asks.
Data shakes his head. “No, well, it is, but tickets were sold out way back. It’s not something we can just turn up and enter.”
“We might not be able to get inside, but StoryTeller will be going with Sheri, remember?” Buzz states, clearly getting to the point he was trying to make before Shout interrupted him. He slaps his hand down as though making a point. “We get StoryTeller on side and bring him up to date.” He glances at Data. “You got photos of Aster so he knows who to watch out for?”
As Data nods, I’m trying to process everything in my head. I don’t like this at all. If my woman is in danger, it’s me who should be there to protect her. But from what my information expert says, none of us will be able to attend the event except for StoryTeller. At least we’ll have one man inside. While I don’t like leaving anything to chance, it’s likely her ex will come up against the same problem, and also be unable to gain entry. While Jasmine’s in the resort at the event, she’s probably safe.
But I don’t like unknowns and not knowing the odds.
“I’m going to speak to Chaz,” I decide and state. “We can then brief StoryTeller.” I point to my right. “Buzz, get with Data and find out all you can about the resort when the signing is taking place. See where any weak points are. And Data?” I address the man himself. “Can you see whether Mayhem can check on Aster’s whereabouts, and whether we can predict whether he’s planning on visiting Texas?”
“Sure thing, Prez,” both he and Buzz answer together.
“We’ll meet back here tomorrow.” I bang the gavel, then as the other brothers stand and leave, I beckon my officers should stay with me.
Once the room is empty, apart from Buzz, Shotgun, Tequila and myself, I go to collect my phone held in the box outside the door. Once I return, I pull up a number, click it onto speakerphone, then put it on the table in front of me.
The ringing tone sounds a couple of times, then it’s answered.
“Strider, Brother, how’s it hanging?”
I sigh and get straight down to business. “Got a problem, Chaz.”
“Anything I can do to help, you got it, Brother.” He doesn’t even let me explain before pledging to help. Not unexpected, I’d do the same in return. As would the presidents of the other Wretched Soulz charters.
It takes about ten minutes to fill him in, having to make time for his intelligent questions and a couple of inputs from Shotgun and Buzz. Tequila mainly stays quiet, listening. Then, Chaz takes a moment to think for himself.
When he speaks, he adds some clarity I hadn’t considered. “Got a woman of my own now, as you know, Brother. So maybe I’m more up to speed on this keeping an ol’ lady happy stuff.” He chuckles softly. “Mind you, with Queenie, she’d have my balls if I upset her.”
This is a very different Chaz from the one I’d spoken to a few months back. It’s not so much that his old lady has tamed him, but perhaps made him appreciate some softness in his life. Though soft isn’t a word you’d extend to Helo. My lips curve as I admit I’d think seriously before crossing her.
Chaz continues, “If I thought it would help, I’d instruct StoryTeller to get the contact details from his ol’ lady and risk her wrath. But have you considered that if Jasmine’s as savvy as you describe her, she’ll probably have a burner phone that we might not be able to trace? And if it’s a contract, who knows what name it would be purchased under. You said Data hadn’t been able to find a bank account.”
Well, I’ll be fucked. He’s right. Pulling my hair back, I hold it for a moment before letting it loose.
He hasn’t finished. “She’s still staying off the radar. If Mayhem can’t find her, it’s likely no one can. I think you’ve got the rights of it when you say she’ll only be in danger when she appears in public at that Dallas event. StoryTeller will be there with her. I’ll bring him up to speed so he knows what to look for.”
“But will StoryTeller be enough?” I drop in. “I’m not doubting his capabilities, but who knows what he’ll be up against.”
Chaz is quiet for a moment. “You said all the tickets are sold, and there’s no legitimate way in?” I give an affirmative grunt, to which he chuckles softly. “You reckon Ms. J Frobisher would be able to have another assistant there? Or, if not, one who replaces Sheri?”
I breathe out. “I’ll pick one of my men.”
“Nah, I was thinking another female,” he interjects fast.
“All I’ve got here are sweet butts?—”
He bellows with laughter this time. “Who I’m thinking of will be as good, if not better, than any brother and definitely tops any club girl. If Queenie’s willing to do it, then Jasmine will be covered for sure.”
A startled laugh barks out of me. “You think Helo would help?”
“I think there’s more question of how I’d stop her once she knows the facts. My Queenie does tend to get bored. Only one issue, she wouldn’t be able to be there until the day of the signing as she’s got a drop-off for me to do first. But that’s when the public will be attending, so hopefully, StoryTeller can cover her himself until then.”
“We’ll be staying close by?—”
“As will I and some of my brothers. Not leaving my Queenie exposed without backup.”
All I can do is thank him profusely. We chat about arrangements for a while, then end the call.
There’s a risk Barclay Aster will get to her before we do, but it’s one I’ll have to live with for now. Chaz had agreed that Sheri will check in daily and if there’s a time when Jasmine doesn’t answer her phone, she’ll sound the alarm.
For now, I’ve done all I can.