Chapter Twelve
Denver, Colorado
Satan’s Bar
The next evening
Frank ‘Cole’ Porter poured out another shot of whiskey, scanned the bar quickly to see how the vibe was going. Nothing was unusual or alarming, so he flashed Vixen a grin as she picked up the tray of drinks for the bachelor party over in the corner.
“Everything OK, sweetheart?” he asked her. “Those boys behaving themselves?”
She rolled her amazing dark eyes – a beautiful inky almost-black, a color that Cole had never seen on anyone except Vixen – and smiled. The woman was drop-dead gorgeous, with a lithe little body that just never quit… and even though Cole had spent almost four years working with Vixen and appreciating her abundant charms, he’d never even once been tempted to take her to one of the back fuck rooms.
In Satan’s, Vixen was known as the MC’s favorite ride – and she was rumored to have been with every one of the guys, and multiple times, though Cole knew that to not be true, at all. What was true was that she had been the ultimate pass-around, the quintessential biker’s whore… and she owned that moniker, without shame. The woman was smokily and sexily hot, about that there was no doubt, and she had the brazen, aggressive, unpolished beauty of a wild creature. There was nothing demure or elegant or wallflower about Vixen as she carried out her waitressing duties. She was, to her core, an MC bar back room toy, and she was proud of it.
Cole had noticed, though, that she had slowed down on her visits to the crash rooms with the guys, and for a while – for the past several months, at least – she’d only spent time back there with Ice. He doubted this would endear her to the female customers at Satan’s, and Cole would never get involved in one of his MC brother’s sex lives, but he truly suspected that Ice and Vixen had a little something going, even if they had no idea that it was happening.
“Yeah, those guys are OK,” she told Cole in that husky-sexy voice. “They just spent an hour or so propositioning me non-stop.”
“You want one of us to have a word with ‘em?”
“No need.” Vixen tossed her blonde hair over a slim shoulder, and once again, Cole admired how beautifully the woman moved, naturally and without even thinking about it. “I said no way, and the groom-to-be backed me up pretty firmly. It’s fine, Cole. Really. Thanks anyway.”
“You got it,” he said. “Now back to work, sweetheart. Those tips aren’t going to earn themselves.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
He watched her walk away, appreciating those shapely long legs some more, then switched his attention to Dux and Drake at the other end of the bar. Cole cocked his dark head as he saw that the brothers were chatting with a woman named Laurie. She was leaning forward, giving the twins a generous glimpse of healthy cleavage, and from the look on her face, she was doing some propositioning of her own. Cole knew that she one of the twins’ regular bed-mates – one of about seven or eight women who patronized the biker bar – and although Dux and Drake never kissed and told, the women sure as hell did. From what Cole could gather, satisfaction with the twins was guaranteed, and more than once.
Well, Cole mentally amended as he watched his brothers turn away in disinterest, Laurie had been one of their regular bed-mates. Until recently.
Ever since the boys had returned from setting Briley Cross up in her new life in Pennsylvania, there had been zero time spent with any of their usual lucky ladies. Oh, sure, the women flirted and the twins talked to them, but there was no follow-up. In fact, the boys couldn’t seem to escape the conversations fast enough: they looked bored, and on-edge, and maybe even a bit downcast. In other words, they were not themselves.
Cole was a damn good bartender, and not only because he could serve up drinks blindfolded, with an arm tied behind his back, while nursing a bullet wound. He was great at his job because he could read people, and a room, and a situation: he saw things coming long before anyone else did, and Wolf had bowed to his weird intuitive ability on more than one occasion.
What that intuition was telling him now was, that Dux and Drake were turning down their hordes of women because they were hung up on Briley. Much like Cole suspected that Ice and Vixen had no clue that they were, actually, really into each other, Cole also thought that Dux and Drake were unaware of why they felt so uneasy about taking up with one of their former lovers – despite the fact that Briley wasn’t anything official in their lives, and quite probably never would be.
And if there was one thing that Cole loved (besides his ex-wife, who he still missed like he’d miss air and water and cigarettes), it was teasing his brothers about having fallen for a woman. Especially when they didn’t know that they’d fallen for her.
“Hey, boys,” he greeted them now as they sidled up to him. “What’s wrong with Laurie?”
“Nothing, I don’t think,” Drake said, looking a bit taken aback. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, it’s just that the woman was practically throwing herself at the two of you, and you didn’t so much as look down at her… uhhh… impressive assets.” Cole grinned. “And they’re pretty damn hard to miss, huh?”
“Yeah, well.” Dux shrugged. “We’re not really feeling it tonight.”
“ Tonight ?”
The teasing voice came from behind Cole, and he turned, delighted to have an ally in smart-assedness. Troy ‘Rebel’ Armstrong was as merciless a tormentor as Cole himself, and when the men were working at Satan’s at the same time, it was nothing but fun.
Well. Fun for Cole and Rebel. Maybe not so much everyone else, to be fair.
“ Right ?” Cole said to Rebel as he approached with a plate of what smelled like steak with garlic butter. He handed it over to Vixen with his usual devastating smile, then turned his attention back to his brothers. “What’s this ‘tonight’ crap, huh? They haven’t been feeling it any night for months .”
“Months indeed,” Rebel pronounced. “In fact, I’d go a bit farther.”
“ Would you?” Cole said.
“I would. I’d say that they haven’t been feeling it – and by natural extension, they haven’t been feeling any one – ever since Briley exited their lives a few months ago.”
“Hmmmm.” Cole pretended to ponder that. “Excellent observation, man. You think this has something to do with Briley?”
“I do!” Rebel slapped Dux on the shoulder. “And so do you boys. Right?”
“Nope,” Dux snapped.
“Yep.”
“ No ,” Drake snarled.
“Yep!”
“Jesus Christ,” the twins said in unison. “ Shut it, Armstrong.”
Rebel just grinned wider, and Cole laughed aloud: as soon as Dux and Drake did the speaking-in-surround-sound thing, their MC brothers knew that they were good and unnerved. It was their one sure-fire tell, and everyone got a kick out of it.
“Fuck off, both of you,” Drake growled as he and Dux turned and started to walk away. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“We do, actually!” Cole called after them merrily. “Hear us now, believe us later!”
“Jesus,” Dux muttered as the men stepped outside into the sweltering evening air. Still, inside the bar was far more uncomfortable than standing in humidity. “They’re a couple of assholes, huh?”
“Uh-huh. Sure are.”
Something in his brother’s voice gave Dux pause, and he looked at him. “What?”
“What what?”
“What was that tone?”
“No tone, man.”
“C’mon, Drake, you’re talking to me . What’s going on?”
“Like you don’t know,” Drake said. “Like you don’t feel the same.”
Dux fell silent. He leaned back against the outside wall, his face hidden in shadow from the overhanging roof.
“Like you don’t miss her,” Drake continued. “Like you don’t wish that we’d finished what we started in –”
“– The kitchen that day,” Dux said quietly. “Like we couldn’t –”
“– Stay for longer. Like… days longer.”
“Weeks.”
“Yeah.”
They stared at each other, just barely able to see the other’s expression in the darkness.
“Has it finally happened, then?” Dux asked. “Have we –”
“– Fallen for the same woman, just as hard as the other?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah, big brother. We have.”
“Goddammit.” Dux sighed, ran a hand over his stubbled chin. “Fucking now what? I mean, how do we see her again?”
Just then, a taxi pulled up in front of the bar. The back door opened and – to their utter disbelief – out stepped Briley. She was wearing a loose dress and sandals, and her thick blonde hair was all piled up on her head, showing off that delicate neck, and she looked amazing.
“Holy shit,” Drake said in an undertone. “Are you seeing this, man? Am I hallucinating?”
“Did I just conjure her up out of thin air?” Dux added. “Did I like… manifest her?”
Briley took a small suitcase from the driver, gave him a smile, and that was when the twins really got a good look at her.She was pale and seemed to be exhausted, and right away, they felt worry flare up in their broad chests as the shock at seeing her receded. It occurred to them now that, actually, something was quite probably very wrong. Why else would the woman just show up in Denver without so much as a phone call?
“Hey,” Drake said, as he and Dux stepped out into the half-light. “Briley…”
Startled, she gave a small shriek, dropped her suitcase on the driver’s foot. He yelped and jumped, then glared at the twins.
“Shit,” the driver grumbled, gingerly moving his toes. “Don’t just sneak up on folks, you morons. Give us a warning before emerging from the shadows, huh?”
“Sorry,” Dux said and Drake nodded. “Are you OK? Your foot? You want to come inside and put some ice on it?”
“Nah, man. I’m good.” He walked back around the car, gave them a small wave. “Take care now. Have a good night.”
“You too,” Briley said softly. “Thanks.”
He drove off. They watched him go, then as one, they all turned their eyes to each other. They all stared , not believing that they were seeing each other for the first time in months… and just like that, the three of them were back in her kitchen on that sunny late-spring morning. Briley was pressed up with her back against Drake’s chest, his fingers stroking her aching pussy, Dux kissing his way down the front of her body before falling to his knees in front of her. She was begging them not to stop, her knees shaking under her, her hair tumbled over her breasts and shoulders like the wild thing that they always made her into with almost no effort at all.
They saw it all in each other’s eyes, and expressions; heard it in the way that their collective breaths hitched and deepened. God, they hadn’t even touched each other – and yet they felt like they had, like they were. Like they were all wrapped up around each other, twisting and writhing, driving each other to deeper, darker pleasure.
“Babe,” Dux managed now, his voice guttural with pure arousal, but also tinged with worry. He and Drake moved towards her, reaching for her hands. “What’s wrong? You OK?”
“I’m – well. I’m OK.” Briley gave them a tremulous smile, clutched their hands in hers, and they knew she wasn’t telling them the whole truth. “But I really need to talk to you guys. It’s important.”
“OK, darlin’,” Drake said crisply. “Let’s go to our place. We can talk all night, if you need that.”
“Actually… could I get some water before we go?” Briley asked them. “I’m completely parched from the plane air, and I drank my last bottle of water in the taxi.”
“Yeah, of course. C’mon.” Dux wrenched the heavy wooden door open, ushered her into the bar, and Drake grabbed her suitcase. “Let’s get you into the air-con and served up a cold drink.”
“Great.” She sighed. “I’d appreciate that for a few minutes.”
They walked into Satan’s, and Briley smiled at the memory; she’d spent an hour hanging around here, back when they’d dropped off Elle and Violet from that insane rescue mission. She’d met quite of few of the MC guys, and had found herself really liking every one of them. They were men with an undeniable rough charm, and an odd old-school courtliness that was mixed with an aura of savagery and danger. They were men who would – and did – kill without batting an eyelid, but who also held doors and made breakfast after ravishing their women four times in one night.
And one of these men was the father of her babies. It was mind boggling to contemplate, but here she was.
“Briley!” Cole was standing at his usual place behind the bar, his dark hair tousled as sexily as ever, with Rebel next him. “What the fuck, girl? Did we summon you?”
“Did you – what?” she asked, following Dux and Drake over to a table. “What do you mean?”
“We were just talking about you ,” Rebel chimed in, those astonishing gold eyes sparkling with their usual mischief. “ Weren’t we, guys? Weren’t we just talking about Briley?”
“ Shut it, Rebel,” Drake growled, and Briley blinked a bit at that. “Cole, could you stop fucking talking and get her a glass of cold water?”
“Yeah, sure.” Cole snapped a salute and gave Briley a huge grin. “One water coming up. Then I want to know what you’re doing here, baby, ‘cause this is a great surprise.”
Something seemed to have occurred to him because he paused now, taking in Dux and Drake’s hard faces, Briley’s pallor and purple shadows under her eyes. Cole watched them sit her down; he hesitated for a second, then said:
“I mean… is this a great surprise?”
Briley opened her mouth to say something – and truly, she didn’t know what that might be – when Wolf came into the bar. He shot a ferocious glare around and jerked his head towards the conference room. Without a word, without even looking at each other, every member of The Road Devils promptly left their posts, places, and tables and followed Wolf down the hallway. Rebel reached for the kitchen phone to call the guys over at The Garage and Blue Dragon Ink to drop everything and come to the bar.
“Oh, shit,” Dux muttered. “Briley, I’m really sorry but we’ve got to get to that meeting. It’s not voluntary, and anyway, Wolf only calls us all together when something really big has happened.”
“And considering everything,” she said wryly, accepting a glass of water from Cole. “It’s bound to be about Michael. Right?”
“Almost definitely.” Drake looked down at her, thinking. “This might be a while. Darlin’, why don’t you drink that water, rest for a bit, and if you get tired and we’re still in the meeting, you go to our place and wait for us?” He fished a key out of his jeans pocket, set it down on the table. “Here.”
“I don’t have a car, though,” she said, rummaging through her purse for her phone. She opened the text app, ready to type. “What’s your address for the Uber?”
“Don’t worry about any of that. I’ll run over to Blue Dragon and ask Zoe to drive you,” Dux said. “She’s working over at the tattoo parlour right now, so I’ll just have her come get you as soon as she can.”
“Also,” Drake added. “We have a home security system, with an alarm. I’ll text you the code so you can disarm it when you get into the front hallway. Then grab something to eat, or hang out and watch TV, take a nap, whatever. Just relax while you wait. OK?”
“OK.” Briley sighed, sank a bit deeper into the chair. “That sounds good. Thank you.”
“You sure you’ll be alright here?” Drake said as his brother hurried out of Satan’s to go talk to Zoe. “I mean… something’s clearly up, and so we’re worried about you. Do you want Elle or Violet to come and sit with you?”
“No, they’re going to be busy holding down the fort while Cole and Rebel are in the meeting.” She smiled up at him, and yet again, his heart did a back-flip at her stunning beauty. “And anyway, I’m fine. I’ll just hang out for a few minutes, then I’ll go with Zoe to your place. What I came to tell you can wait a bit longer, trust me.”
Like… about five months longer.
Drake looked up as his brother shot back into the bar, nodded over at them.
“OK, darlin’,” he said, tapping the six-digit alarm code into his phone and sending it to her. “Zee will be here soon, so just sit tight.”
Briley smiled again, then watched Dux and Drake head across the large bar area, and disappear down the hallway. She glanced at the code he’d texted her, set her phone on the table, and absently reached for her ice water; as she did, her elbow hit her purse and launched it to the floor with a dramatic half-summersault. The entire contents of the purse flew everywhere – lipstick, wallet, tissues, airplane peanuts, keys, who-knows-what-else – and she rolled her eyes and cursed under her breath as she scrambled around on her knees, collecting everything up again.
By the time she’d stuffed all her belongings back in the bag, Zoe was standing there with the car keys, looking as impossibly tall and beautiful as Briley remembered her. The women embraced, and off they went. As she settled into the passenger seat, Briley was suddenly exhausted, and very glad that she had a sofa to subside onto while she waited to deliver the news to Dux and Drake that there were two babies on the way… and now the three grown-ups involved had to make some pretty big decisions.
And with a bit of luck, and with a spirit of cooperation, they’d be making decisions together about these kids for a while –like maybe about twenty years. If the men wanted to be part of this, of course.
**
The Road Devils trooped into the conference room, with Drake the last one in and shutting the door behind him. There was a tense hush, and not just because of Wolf’s abrupt calling of the meeting.
At the front of the room, between Wolf and Scars, stood Matt ‘King’ Kingston.
And all the men assembled knew that that was never a good thing.
“OK,” Wolf said tersely. “You all know that King bein’ here is never a great thing to have happen…”
“Thanks, Connor,” King said, his voice rumbling out of that massive chest. “I’m feeling the love.”
Wolf managed a strained grin at that. “Sorry, man, that was a pretty shit openin’ statement. Why don’t you just take the floor and tell the boys what you told me?”
“You got it.”
King stepped forward, and to a man, they remembered –yet again – that in a room of fucking badasses, and trained-up killers, and hardcore alphas, King remained… well. The king. He was literally and figuratively head-and-shoulders above any and all of them, even Ice, and nobody looking at him ever thought any different. Compared to King, everyone was a rank amateur, and for the hundredth time, The Road Devils thanked Christ that this man was on their side.
“So.” King paused, gathering his thoughts. “First let me apologize for not getting here sooner. I know that the whole fucked-up mess with the cult in Utah was a few months ago, and you guys have been waiting on some information, especially after Ice, Cain and Holt rumbled the whole Michael and Crusher connection. Denton and I actually had a really hard time finding solid intel, and I don’t need to go into the why’s or how’s. Just know that we wanted to be sure with what we found before I showed up here to report to all of you. Now we’re one-hundred-percent sure, so here I am.”
The men stared at him fixedly, already hating everything about this.
“You won’t be surprised to hear that the Right-Guardian’s name isn’t really Michael – it’s actually Darryl Webber. Born and raised in Salt Lake City, he had a junkie father and a mother who sold herself to pay the bills, because Dad couldn’t hold a job and kept spending the benefits checks on coke.”
“Cutting to the most relevant part of Webber’s life, at least as far as it concerns all of us, he and Crusher Alcott were high school buddies. Both on the football team, hung around the same crowd, got drunk together up at the lake, all the usual teenaged stuff. They stayed in touch for a while after Alcott joined The Hellions, but Webber never Prospected for the club. He left school and pretty much immediately started selling drugs – Denton thinks that his Dad hooked him up – and he seemed to make a pretty good go of it, at least for a while. Denton isn’t totally sure when or how Webber got into pimping, but he strongly suspects that it was through Mom.”
“An upstanding family all around,” Holt muttered. “Jesus.”
“You said it, man.” King shook his head. “Anyway, at some point their lives intersected again, at least in the sense that Webber provided drugs and women to The Hellions. Denton isn’t totally sure if the men met up again and Crusher brought his old friend into the MC, or if Webber got access another way and was pleasantly surprised to be reunited with Alcott. Either way, when Alcott took over as President, the partnership was completely cemented: Denton knows for a fact that Webber provided an alibi for Crusher – a sketchy one at best, but still, he stuck to his story and the cops couldn’t prove anything definitively – and thanks to him, our boy beat a murder charge.”
“Fuck,” Jinx said. “Good friend, indeed.”
“Right?” King said. “That put Alcott in his old buddy’s debt, to a certain extent, yet Denton hasn’t found a single case where the favor might have been called in. About two years ago, Webber joined the cult, and as far as Denton can tell, there was zero contact between the men until a few months ago. To be absolutely accurate, there was contact again barely two weeks after you boys took the cult compound.”
The tension in the room sharpened now, become much more focused. This was the important stuff, the stuff that was unfolding right now , in real time. Everything else was ancient history, and knowing it was helpful for context, but did nothing for self-protection or -preservation.
“So Webber showed up at the Hellions MC clubhouse and stayed there as a guest until about a week ago. We can’t be sure, because he’s disappeared. Like, completely gone.” King looked around the room as the men murmured. “Worse than that, Crusher’s gone too.”
“ What ?” Ice said, appalled and stunned that somehow the FBI and Matt Kingston had dropped the ball; on the whole, the bigger shock was King. “How the fuck did that happen?”
“All Denton can think is that there was a time a few weeks ago when some guys were repaving the Hellions’ clubhouse parking lot, and also doing some renovation work inside. There were large vehicles in and out for about nine days, and stuff being dropped off and picked up, lots of activity. Crusher was last seen on the final day, when a huge delivery truck showed up with new furniture – bar tables and chairs, a whole new bar. The truck backed up right to the door, so Denton’s guess is that Crusher and Webber just climbed on in the back, and rode away.”
“And nobody knows where?” Viking said, already wondering just how to tell Elle all of this . “Not a clue?”
“None,” King said heavily. “Denton and his boys are looking, but so far, nothing. You won’t be surprised to hear that the delivery company named on the side of the truck went bankrupt last year, and its vehicles were all sold for cash to cover some debts. No paper trail, no records. Anyone could have bought that truck, taken it anywhere.”
“So there’s not a lot of good news,” Silver said slowly, now wishing that he and Jolene had stayed up at Open Skies after all – like, for years . “We’re still in the dark.”
“ No good news whatsoever,” Wolf spoke up again. “And now I’m gonna say somethin’ even worse.”
“ Worse than losing Crusher Fucking Alcott and a psycho cult guy?” Cain asked. “What can be worse?”
“Explainin’ to the women that we need to put them in one of King’s safe houses, bein’ guarded by some of King’s Men,” Wolf said bluntly. “And we can’t tell them when they’ll be free to leave, not until we get a handle on this fuckin’ situation.”
“Oh, shit,” Dux whispered to his brother. “Briley too, do you think? I mean, now that she’s shown up here?”
“Christ,” Drake muttered back, looking at Scars, Viking and Silver, seeing his horror and panic reflected on their faces. “She was probably safer back in Pennsylvania.”
“No fucking doubt.”
“ So .” Wolf raised his voice over the men’s conversations, and everyone immediately shut up. “Guys, you need to talk to your women, get ‘em packed up and ready for King’s Men to move to safety.”
“When?” Scars asked, already trying to figure out how to explain to his fiancée that he was sticking her and Keira in an undisclosed and guarded location for an unspecified period of time. “When do they go?”
“Within two days," King responded, and Scars sighed. “I’ve got my people separated into three teams – one for Zoe and Keira, one for Jo, one for Elle and Violet – and these women are their entire focus for the next forty-eight hours as they tie up any loose ends, and sort things out to leave. My team's only concern is getting these women and that baby to the safe house. It’s big enough for all of them, plus my team, but there can’t be any coming and going. I’m afraid that you guys will have to stay away until Denton finds Alcott and Webber, so say your goodbyes in the next couple of days. Short and sweet, boys.”
Scars, Viking and Silver nodded, all bracing themselves for the nuclear reaction that was surely coming, knowing that it had to be done despite the impending chaos.
“Get goin’,” Wolf said to everyone. “Keep your eyes open, watch your backs, watch each other. Meetin’s over.”
The men filed out of the conference room, and Wolf turned to King again. Dux and Drake exchanged loaded glances, then approached their President. He took one look at their faces, and already knew that whatever was about to be said, he fucking didn’t like it.
“OK, what?” Wolf demanded. “Tell me fast, ‘cause my patience is tapped out.”
“Briley showed up here at Satan’s, completely out of the blue,” Drake said. “No call, no nothing… just pulled up in a taxi.”
“When?” Wolf snapped.
“About thirty minutes ago.”
“Shit.” Wolf sighed at the newest wrinkle, wondered if the hits would ever stop coming. “What does she want?”
“We don’t know,” Dux said. “Less than three minutes after she got here, you called this meeting. We had Zoe take her to our place to wait for us.”
“Wait,” King said, a bit surprised at that. “Zoe isn’t here?”
“Oh, she’s coming back to get Scars,” Dux reassured him. “She’s probably back now.”
Without a word, King pulled out his cell, checked the messages, and he nodded. “Yeah, she is. My people followed her and Briley to your place, followed Zee back here. She’s having a Coke Zero down the hall as we speak.”
“You know exactly where Zoe is and what she’s drinkin’, but you lose fuckin’ Crusher ?” Wolf snapped. “C’mon, man, you know I respect your skills, but that’s one hell of a ball to drop.”
“Agreed, and I’ve got no excuses,” King said heavily. “We’re working on it, and Denton has a few solid leads. Meanwhile, I suggest you boys get Briley back to Pennsylvania, ASAP.”
“Really?” Drake said, dismayed. “What if something’s really wrong, and that’s why she’s here with zero heads-up?”
“Then you tell Wolf, and we’ll figure it out,” King said. “But on the whole, from what Wolf has told me about how everything in her life is under her birth name – work, nursing license, home purchase – she’s light-years safer there . If she’s spotted in Denver, who knows what might happen.”
“Yeah, OK.” Dux nodded reluctantly. “You’re right.”
“So go home and find out what the hell the woman is doin’ here,” Wolf ordered. “Then no matter what it is, get her ass back on a plane. Fuckin’ pronto .”
**
Scars walked over to Zoe, watched as her beautiful face lit up, felt his own brighten in response. God , no matter how many times he saw her, or held her, or made love to her, it was like the first time doing it… and it was never, never enough.
The thought that he wouldn’t see or hold or touch her, maybe for weeks, made his gut twist. But the alternative was too terrible to contemplate, that she’d be taken away from him forever – her and Keira.
Zoe’s eyes changed now, got sharper somehow, and Scars sighed internally. She’d noticed that something was wrong – she’d seen it in his expression, or his walk, or the way he was breathing – and he knew that she was already worried.
“What is it?” she asked him, getting to her feet. “What did Wolf say that was so bad? Is this about Briley showing up out of nowhere?”
“Briley?” Scars echoed, mystified. “Is she here ?”
“Yes, I drove her to the twins’ house, not even twenty minutes ago. So is she here because something’s wrong and it’s safer for her to be with us?”
“Baby.” Scars shook his dark head, took her hand and tugged her down the kitchen hallway. “I didn’t know that Briley was here until this second… I can’t say how or why she’s just shown up, but I can tell you that there’s something else going on.”
“Scars,” Zoe said softly, leaning back against the wall next to the open kitchen door. “What’s happened?”
So he took her hands in his, and started to talk. He told her everything – absolutely everything – and even though it was probably too much information in some ways, the idea of lying or withholding from Zoe was unthinkable. She was a tough, strong woman and she could handle pretty much anything… and what she struggled with, he’d be there to help her carry.
“So…” she said, staring up at the man she loved. “You want me and Keira to be taken to some place you don’t know and you won’t be told where it is, for who-knows-how-long, because the FBI can’t keep track of two monsters that they had under surveillance?”
“That’s about it, baby,” he said, smoothing back her hair. “The last anyone saw Crusher and Michael – sorry, Darryl Webber – they were in Utah, in the MC clubhouse in Salt Lake City. Where they are now is anybody’s guess, and until we know that for sure, we need to operate on the assumption that they could be anywhere.”
She nodded, looked down at her feet. “I get that, and me and Keira will go with King’s people tonight. No arguments or protestations from me. I promise. But –”
“But what?”
“No, it’s stupid. I mean, it’s a stupid thing to be thinking about with everything else going on.”
“ Nothing that you think or feel or say is stupid to me, Zoe. What is it?”
“Ummmm.” She wrestled with herself, then she sighed. “I feel so selfish, but… I’m supposed to be going shopping for my wedding dress next week. I mean, it’s August now, and November is only a couple of months away, and I know I’m not getting the whole traditional bridal gown, but I did want something a bit special, you know? What if – what if we’re still in hiding in November? Do we – we won’t get married, will we?”
Scars stared down at her silently.
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Forget it. I know this isn’t anything to worry about right now. Like I said, it’s stupid…”
“Are you serious ?” he asked her, incredulous. “You think I didn’t think the same thing?”
“You thought about my wedding dress?”
“OK, OK.” Scars grinned at her little stab at a joke. “Not the exact same thing, sure enough, but the wedding. Right after I freaked out about you and Keira being safe, then I thought how soon our wedding is, and what we do if you’re still hiding out then.”
“So what do we do?”
“Baby, we are getting married in just over two months. I don’t care if it’s up at Open Skies, or in a safe house living room that I’m blindfolded when I’m driven to. I don’t care if it’s just us and Keira and a justice-of-the-peace, or the whole MC shows up at the ranch in the Rockies. I don’t care if you wear a new dress or your oldest jeans. You get me? I just want to marry you in November, and how and where that happens, I’m not fussed.”
Zoe smiled a bit at that, then she noticed King lingering at the end of the hallway, and she gave him a quizzical look.
“Scars, Zee,” he said now. “I wanted to talk to you guys about your wedding plans.”
“Ummmm… you did?” she said.
“I did.” He padded over to Scars and Zoe, and once again, she wondered how such a huge man could move so quietly and almost gracefully. “I was thinking about something that you might find helpful. Well, actually, someone.”
“Ohhh-kaaay,” Scars said slowly. “Who?”
“Well, a couple of years ago, I had a similar situation: a group of women had to go into hiding for a little while, and one of them was planning a wedding at the time. She worked with a woman named Elise Jordan remotely.”
“Is she a wedding planner?” Zoe asked. “Because I don’t need one, King. Everything is organized – minister, location, food, reception and party – except for the dress.”
“And that’s what Elise does,” King said. “She owns a wedding dress shop in the city.”
“Oh,” Zoe said. “I’m not looking for the full-on wedding gown, King. I mean… I’d love something off-white, with a nice cut, and maybe some embroidery or even tiny diamonds sewn on the bodice, but I don’t want the whole ‘wedding dress’ thing.” She put air-quotes around the words as she spoke.
“Uh, well,” King said carefully. “That actually does sound like a ‘wedding dress’ thing to me, but I’m no expert.”
“To be fair, baby,” Scars added. “You’ve gone from buying a simple white dress on Amazon to thinking about diamonds sewn on… on something.”
“The bodice.”
Scars blinked at her. “OK, yes. On that. So – maybe my girl wants a ‘wedding dress’ thing after all?”
“Oh, man.” Zoe gazed at her future husband, suddenly panicked. “I do.”
“You’re jumping the gun a bit on saying that,” Scars teased her. “But I do, too. I mean… I want you to get married in the dress that you want, and if that’s the real deal – with lace, and a veil, and diamonds – then that’s what we do.”
“But it’s too late!” Zoe almost wailed. “ Nobody can get a real wedding dress in less than three months, and especially not locked down surrounded by bodyguards! And I’ll never wear lace or a veil!”
“Hey,” King soothed her. “Elise is the woman for the job, believe me. Like I said, she helped someone plan a wedding from our safe house. She’s a genius at choosing dresses for a bride just based on a photo or a Skype call.”
“She is?”
“Yeah. I imagine she’ll pull a bunch of dresses that you point out to her while you guys are on the call, then courier them over to you, no problem. Once you choose the one you want, she’s happy to be taken to the safe house and do the alterations with you there, and take back the other dresses with her when she leaves. No hassle or stress. When I say that the woman is flexible, I’m dead serious.”
“Really?” Zoe stared at King. “She’s done this kind of ‘wedding dress in hiding’ thing before?”
“This exact thing, hon.” King smiled down at her from his massive height. “I know this isn’t how you want to do things, and I’m really sorry that my fuck-up is messing with your wedding plans. I swear that all I’m working on is finding Crusher and Darryl.”
“Which means they’re as good as found,” Scars said. “I sure as hell wouldn’t want you looking for me, that’s for sure.”
“OK, then,” Zoe said, suddenly feeling light years better as she followed the men back to the bar. “Wedding dress shopping in a safe houseit is… if nothing else, it will be memorable.”
**
Violet stepped out of the kitchen, clutching her plate of food. She’d been starving fifteen minutes earlier, but now she couldn’t choke down a single bite of food if you put a gun to her head.
Scars’ words were swirling around in her head, just going around and around in a jumbled mess, the same sentence echoing over and over again:
The last anyone saw Crusher and Michael – sorry, Darryl Webber – they were in Utah, in the MC clubhouse in Salt Lake City.
And just like that, Violet felt better than she’d felt in weeks, ever since she’d stupidly, thoughtlessly, left the Garden.
This was the sign that she’d been waiting and praying for.