The Keeper (Silent Phoenix MC #5)

Chapter 21

TWENTY-ONE

GHOST

Ivy & Piper’s Guide to Life Rule Number Thirty-Two:

Always question the rules.

“ Y ou going to be able to keep your shit under control, or do you need to wait out here in the truck?” Carnage asked as we pulled into the bakery parking lot.

I shook my head at the irony of getting a lecture on control from the man who’d waltzed into the Crows’ territory five years ago and abducted a woman against club orders.

“That’s real fucking rich coming from the guy who lost his goddamned mind when his Ol’ Lady gave me a lap dance,” I drawled with a hard smile, dropping the visor to block out the sun glinting off the windshield of his truck. “She wasn’t even your Ol’ Lady then…just the stripper you drugged and chained up in your basement like a fucking serial killer.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth before shifting his neck from side to side. “Really? You want to go there right now? Because I’m more than happy to provide a repeat performance if you don’t watch your fucking mouth when it comes to my wife.”

A sane person wouldn’t try picking a fight with their boss and the club’s Sergeant at Arms—a guy who was six-foot-six and built like a fucking tank—but I was craving a release. It had been two weeks since the robbery, and we didn’t have a single goddamned lead.

“Let’s just get this shit done,” I muttered, reaching for the door handle only to find it locked. “Seriously?”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned back. “What’s your old man always saying, huh? Better to have the enemy thinking you’re weak while you come up with a strategy than to run in and get your fucking head blown off.”

I mashed my thumb against my knuckles, cracking them one by one. “And making this douchebag a client is your strategy? The guy who leaves notes and chocolates for Piper when she’s on the rag?”

“Unless you have video evidence, then yeah, that’s the fucking strategy,” Carnage bit out. “Why would you automatically assume Derek knows when her period is? Are they fucking?”

My jaw flexed at the thought, rage bubbling to the surface. “No. She said their relationship is strictly professional.”

He tilted his head down, his gray-blue eyes boring into me. “Then fucking drop it. Derek’s our best bet to finding out who’s behind this, so we do this by the book. No accusations, no threats. Got it?”

I nodded tersely, swallowing the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Going in guns blazing wouldn’t get us access to the security footage.

Carnage unlocked the doors, stopping me when I reached into the backseat for my kutte. “Leave it. We’re not here on club business.”

The bell chimed as we entered, but unlike my last visit, nobody gave me a passing glance. Then again, I wasn’t dressed like a biker. The scent of fresh-baked bread and cinnamon normally would have made my mouth water, but today, it just turned my stomach.

Staff bustled in and out of the double doors leading to the kitchen, refilling the glass display cases and taking orders, oblivious to the tension crackling through the air. Everything looked normal, but my skin crawled. The threat was here somewhere. I could feel it.

Derek materialized from the back, all fake smiles and nervous energy. “Let’s talk in my office.”

The sleek, modern furniture and chrome accents clashed with the retro vibe of the rest of the bakery. He settled behind his desk, gesturing for us to take the two leather chairs opposite him.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me so quickly,” he said, his fingers tapping out an erratic rhythm against the polished wood of his desk. “I’ve heard nothing but great things about Phoenix Security, and that’s why I’d like to hire you to investigate the robbery. The police have been completely useless, and I need someone who can get me answers.”

I made a conscious effort to unclench my jaw and forced a smile as I noted, “Funny, you seem pretty jumpy for a guy who claims to want answers.”

Before he could respond, Carnage’s boot connected with my shin under the desk. I bit back a curse and forced myself to lean back in the chair.

“What my associate means is that we understand how stressful this situation must be for you,” Carnage said smoothly, his eyes flashing with an unspoken warning for me to shut the fuck up. “Why don’t you walk us through everything you know.”

While Derek recounted the events surrounding the robbery, my eyes wandered to the framed photos on the shelf behind his desk. Most were of the bakery and people I assumed were his family, but one caught my attention. It was Piper, laughing as she frosted a cake. The sight of her carefree smile made my chest ache.

“That’s a good picture of Piper,” I said, nodding to the frame.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah, I took that when we were updating our website photos a few years back. Not bad for a phone camera, right? I may have missed my calling as a photographer.”

I ground my molars together, resisting the urge to tell him he was liable to throw his shoulder out, yanking his own dick the way he was. Instead, I settled for, “What if our investigation leads back to you? What then?”

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation crossing his face before he laughed. “I take it you’re not familiar with Ross Williams.”

“The oil guy?” I asked, thrown by the sudden change in topic.

Derek’s laugh immediately set my teeth on edge. “Yeah, the ‘oil guy.’ Number 302 on the Forbes 400 list of richest people in America and my old man.” He leaned back, resting his arms on the chair rests. “What possible motivation would I have to rob my own bakery?”

The question hung in the air, effectively shutting me up. I glanced at Carnage, who gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“Look,” Derek continued, his tone softening. “I get it. You’re protective of Piper, and you want answers. So do I. My employees should feel safe coming to work.”

Carnage nodded, his expression unreadable. “We’ll draw up a contract and get started as soon as it’s signed. You have my word. We’ll find whoever’s responsible.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly. He reached into his desk, pausing to check his phone before retrieving the thick folder lying beneath it and sliding it across to us. “Here’s everything I thought you might need—past and present employee records, regular customer information, and details on the neighboring businesses. I’ve also arranged for you to have full access to our security feeds. Maybe you’ll be able to spot something I haven’t.”

As we stood to leave, Derek pulled me aside. “One more thing, Dane. About Piper…” He lowered his voice. “She’s out of vacation time. I’ve got her on the schedule starting tomorrow, but I don’t want her feeling pressured to come in before she’s ready. I’m willing to put her on paid leave until then, but I wanted to get your thoughts on it.”

I eyed him warily, taken aback by the unexpected generosity. Was this the same guy who’d been pressuring Piper to pick up shifts just a few weeks ago?

“That’s…actually really decent of you,” I said, struggling to keep the surprise out of my voice. “I appreciate it, and I know she will too.”

Derek nodded, his expression softening. “I get it, man. If I were in your shoes, I wouldn’t want her leaving the house until we knew who was behind this shit.”

I found myself agreeing before I could stop myself. Fuck. Had I been reading this guy all wrong? His actions didn’t match up with the picture I’d built in my head of Piper’s asshole boss.

“There’s, uh…another reason it might be good for her to stay away for the time being,” Derek continued, hesitating before reaching into his desk drawer. He pulled out a manila envelope and held it out to me wi th a grim expression. “One of my employees found this in the back this morning.”

My stomach dropped as I opened it to find a crudely photoshopped image of Piper’s face on a bound and naked body being gang-banged by a group of bikers.

No words accompanied the image.

None were needed.

The message was crystal fucking clear.

Stay with the biker, end up as a club whore.

My laptop screen flickered with surveillance footage, casting an eerie glow in Piper’s darkened kitchen. Despite the high resolution, my eyes burned from the strain of scrutinizing every goddamned pixel.

I pressed the pads of my fingers against my eye sockets and leaned back in my chair, feeling a tension headache coming on. Its vise-like grip tightened around my temples, souring my mood even further. I’d spent the entire day combing through security footage, refusing to stop until we had a lead.

Carnage pulled his glasses off, pinching the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. “Without a clear shot of the back hallway, there’s no way to see who left this.”

My jaw ticked, rage gnawing at me like a relentless itch I couldn’t scratch. I wanted to tear the metroplex apart brick by fucking brick until I found the piece of shit responsible.

I scrubbed a hand over my face in a bid to stay awake when something caught my eye—a delivery guy I hadn’t noticed before entering through a side door.

“Hey,” I said, tapping the screen. “We get IDs on the people who make deliveries?”

“A few. Jimmy’s still working on it,” Carnage muttered, slipping his glasses back on before leaning in to study the figure. “Looks like the SKS Food Distribution logo, so he is—” He turned to his tablet. “Isaac Scott. No criminal record. He’s been working for SKS for two years. ”

“He’s at the bakery multiple times a week and would have had full access to the lockers in the back. Any of them would, for that matter.”

It was a lead, albeit a thin one.

Carnage stood, bones cracking as he stretched. “I’ll get with Jimmy when I get back to the hotel. See if we can’t turn up something. For now, let’s call it a night. You need sleep.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” I lied.

Sleep could fuck right off.

I waited until he left before pulling up the footage from the morning of the robbery. Derek had sprung for the high-quality security cameras, and seeing my worst nightmare play out in 4k resolution was like a shot of adrenaline to the heart.

“Please don’t do this. I have a baby.”

I swore my molars were going to crack under the pressure as I watched Timothy taunt Piper with the gun, toying with her body while she tearfully pleaded for mercy. My fists clenched so tight I could feel my nails digging into my palms.

It was the most helpless feeling in the world. And no matter how many hours I spent trying to track down the person responsible, it wouldn’t change what had happened to her. I’d thought living without her for two years was hell.

But I was wrong.

It was seeing the terror on her face and knowing I hadn’t been there to stop it.

Exhaustion weighed on me like a physical thing, my eyes drifting shut despite my best efforts. My chin dipped toward my chest, and I jolted awake before forcing myself to my feet.

My fingers itched for a cigarette or a neck to snap. Preferably the latter, but I settled for the former and stalked out onto the front porch.

The craving clawed at my insides like an animal fighting its way out of a cage, and I fished the pack from my pocket with trembling hands. It had been a bitch to quit smoking the first time around, but the need to quiet the chaos in my head since the robbery outweighed the hell of withdrawals.

I lit up and took several long, desperate drags, the nicotine hitting my brain with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. The neighborhood was quiet, almost eerily so, and it made me wonder what other threats lurked in the shadows, waiting to strike.

After taking a final drag, I crushed my cigarette beneath my boot and immediately lit another before leaning my head back against the side of the house. I’d deal with quitting again later, assuming we made it out of this clusterfuck alive.

Tension coiled between my shoulder blades like a snake poised to strike, my body bracing for the sound of blood-curdling screams or cries for help. I should have been used to Piper’s nightmares by now. They’d become a nightly occurrence since the robbery, which was why our daughter had been sleeping over at GiGi’s, and I’d given up on it altogether.

She was slipping away a little more each day, and there wasn’t a goddamn thing I could do to bring her back. After finishing the second cigarette, I trudged back inside and rewound the robbery footage to the beginning.

As much as I wanted to turn it off, I forced myself to watch the entire thing—to relive the assault alongside her, over and over again, reminding myself what was at stake if I failed again.