Chapter 12 #2
The beatings had eventually stopped. I wasn’t a fun target anymore, and thankfully, I hadn’t attracted the kind of attention that came in the shower stalls. Not like the guy who’d hung himself ten days into his sentence because he’d been raped five days in a row.
Maybe Draven would get lucky and be in maximum security. Maximum was like living in the Four Seasons compared to the Super 8 of minimum.
The rumble of motorcycles cut through the silence. The tension in the room spiked and everyone moved at once.
Dash stood in a flash, striding out of the room. Bryce put her hands on her growing belly and closed her eyes. Leo took out the gun from his boot and set it on his lap, hidden beneath the table. Emmett and Draven shared a look, hardened their expressions and sat taller.
What the hell had I gotten into? What had I brought Genevieve into?
I should have told her to run that day. To run to Colorado and never look back.
All eyes were glued to the door as boots boomed in the front room. Dash appeared first, followed by five men.
I recognized Tucker plus three other men from the day the Warriors had surprised us at the garage. The fifth was new.
They were wearing the Warrior cut with the plain, white arrowhead stitched on the back. I caught a glimpse of it as one guy stretched across the table to shake Emmett’s hand.
“What’s up, Stone?” the man asked, calling Emmett by his last name.
Emmett stood. “Same old.”
Leo remained seated but he had a grin on his face. “Welcome to the party.”
If I didn’t know him better, I’d say Leo looked like he was enjoying this. He was good at putting on a show.
“Draven.” Tucker shook his hand. The gesture made the side of his cut flare out, revealing a gun holstered to his ribs. “Heard your trial kicks off in December.”
“Yep,” Draven said, resuming his seat.
“Have a seat,” Dash ordered, taking his position at the head of the table. He sat straight and tall in the chair. This meeting wasn’t his idea, but it was his meeting and he was in command of the room. “Tucker, you wanted to talk with my wife and sister.”
Genevieve’s hand jerked. Dash had never acknowledged her as his sister. The only reason to call her that today was to exert power. He was making it clear that she was under his protection.
“That’s right.” Tucker steepled his fingers under his chin, covered with a dark goatee speckled with gray.
He had to be close to Draven’s age. The skin on his cheeks was weathered from the sun and wind.
He’d probably spent his life on a bike, riding every second of the spring, summer and fall, much like Draven.
“Take care with your questions, Tucker,” Dash warned.
Tucker’s eyes flashed annoyance, but he nodded before turning his attention to Bryce.
Good. It was better if Bryce started. She was calmer than Genevieve, maybe because she wasn’t hiding anything. Whatever nerves Bryce had brought to this table were buried deep. There was defiance in her gaze now. She was facing an adversary head-on and had no plans to lose.
“Normally I ask the questions.” She smirked. “Mind if I take the first one?”
Tucker nodded. “Shoot.”
“How stuck are you?”
Draven grinned. Emmett stiffened. Dash frowned at his wife for taunting the Warrior president.
But Tucker didn’t take offense. He smiled, flashing white teeth. “Pretty fucking stuck.”
“Welcome to the misery,” she said. “Whoever took us was good at covering his tracks. And I’m guessing since you’re here, you really were telling the truth. You didn’t kill Amina Daylee and you don’t know who did.”
Genevieve’s breath shuddered at her mother’s name.
Tucker nodded. “That’s what I’ve been telling you.”
Bryce leaned her elbows on the table. “So what do you want to know?”
“Tell me about how he got you.”
“I came home after dinner with my parents. My place was dark. He came up behind me, hauled me out of my house, taped up my wrists and ankles, gagged me and shoved me in the trunk of a car.”
“What kind of car?”
“A black sedan. No markings. I didn’t get a look at the plates.”
“Did you?” Tucker’s gaze swung to Genevieve, who shook her head. He eyed her for a long second, and damn if she didn’t just hold it.
There was more strength to her than people recognized, including herself. She wasn’t bold about it like Bryce, but when it mattered, she had nerves of steel.
“Where’d he nab you?” Tucker asked Genevieve.
“My hotel room in Bozeman,” she answered.
Tucker’s men sat in utter silence. One of them kept a firm stare on Genevieve that stoked my temper. I shot the creepy bastard a warning glare. He only raised an eyebrow and went back to staring at Genevieve.
“What did he look like?” Tucker asked Bryce.
“He was covered. Head to toe. I’m not sure why. If he was going to kill us, why not reveal himself? I thought that was strange, unless he was worried that we might get away—which we did.”
“Tell me about that,” Tucker ordered. “How’d you get away?”
“He wanted to make it look like Genevieve killed me. Then Dash would kill her. So he pushed me to my knees, untaped Genevieve’s hands and made her put a gun to my head. Dash and the guys got there before he could make her pull the trigger.”
“Why not kill you both himself?”
“I haven’t the slightest.” Bryce shrugged. “He said it was to win an old war.”
Tucker hummed, his attention shifting to Dash. “How would that win an old war? We settled our disagreement years ago. I don’t give a fuck if you kill your sister.”
Genevieve flinched. The man across the table grinned.
Sick fuck. I might have taken some hits in prison but I’d delivered them too. If he wasn’t careful, I’d leap across this table and beat him within an inch of his life.
“Now you know why nothing makes sense to us either,” Dash told Tucker. “Maybe he figured we’d assume Genevieve was working with the Warriors. Not gonna lie, that thought crossed my mind. Maybe he thought we’d retaliate against your club. If she had died, there’d have been no one to deny it.”
“Retaliate?” Tucker scoffed. “You’d all be dead in a minute. You can’t stand against us.”
Draven leaned forward. “Don’t underestimate the power of revenge. The last club that did was wiped from this earth by my own hands.”
That had to be the club that killed Chrissy Slater, and Draven had taken his revenge.
“Can we get back to the discussion? I’ve got places to be on a Saturday.” Leo reclined deeper into his seat, pretending to be bored. Meanwhile, beneath the table, his gun was pointed at Tucker and his finger was on the trigger.
“You escaped,” Tucker said to Bryce.
“Dash fired a shot at him. It gave me and Genevieve a chance to run.”
“Where’d you run?” Tucker asked.
“Away from the whacko with the gun,” she deadpanned. Smart-ass.
Tucker wasn’t amused this time. “Be specific.”
“You mean like north or south? I don’t fucking know. I ran downhill. I was frozen and too busy trying to stay on my feet to chart my direction against the sun.”
“And you?” Tucker twisted his chair to address Genevieve.
She sat perfectly still. “And me, what?”
“Where’d you run?”
“The other direction so I wouldn’t cross paths with the guy who took us.”
“To the cabin?”
“Yes.” Her voice was so resolute, not a hint of fear.
“How’d you get in?”
“Through the front door. Most cabins have those. Doors.”
Christ, these women. Bryce’s attitude was contagious, and neither of them would be bullied.
“Then what?” Tucker asked.
“I crouched beside a window and watched outside. I saw the man who took us going up the slope into the trees. When I lost sight of him, I got the hell out of there.”
She didn’t rush her words. Her statement was cool and calm. And complete bullshit.
“Did you see anyone inside?”
“No.”
Tucker narrowed his eyes but stayed quiet.
“Then what?” The man who’d been staring at Genevieve spoke up. That’s when she finally noticed his stare. He was talking to her breasts. He licked his lips.
“W-what?” she stuttered. It was her first sign of weakness.
“I found her and we got the fuck out of there,” I answered.
“Nothing else?”
“Nothing.” I narrowed my eyes and kept a firm grip on Genevieve’s hand.
“How do we know this isn’t all a lie?” Tucker asked. “Maybe you didn’t believe me when I said that we didn’t kill that bitch in the motel. How do I know this kidnapping isn’t just a story you made up to cover the fact that you killed one of my men?”
Genevieve’s hand twitched at Tucker’s bitch.
“Enough.” Draven’s voice resonated in the room. Dash might be at the table’s helm, but Draven had just as much power from his chair. “You’ll talk about Amina with respect. And what you heard here is the truth. We both know these girls aren’t lying.”
“What the hell are you expecting to find, Tucker?” Dash asked. “One of your guys is dead. We didn’t kill him. Or is there something more? Something you’re hiding? What exactly was one of your guys doing in that cabin, anyway?”
Tucker’s jaw ticked. “Not relevant.”
“Seems relevant to me,” Emmett said. “We’re sitting on our side of the table telling the truth. What’s yours? Maybe we’re done sharing until you do the same.”
“Not maybe.” Dash stood. “We’re done.”
Draven stood next, holding out a hand to help up Bryce. When she was on her feet, she crossed her arms. Then Leo stood, the gun held tight in his hand. Emmett stood next, followed by Genevieve and me.
In total, we outnumbered them. We’d probably lose a fight but being on the side of the line with bigger numbers was never a bad place to be.
“This is the truth?” Tucker asked, still seated beside his men.
“Yes,” Bryce and Genevieve said in unison.
“Any proof?”
Bryce rolled her eyes. “We didn’t exactly have a chance to carve our initials into a tree.”
Tucker rapped his knuckles on the table, then stood. The others rose with him. “Appreciate the info.”
They left the room in a single-file line. None of us moved as we waited for their motorcycles to start.
Dash left first, hustling Bryce out of the room. We joined him outside on the wide concrete slab beyond the front door in time to see the Warriors speed from the parking lot in a flash of black and a cloud of noise.
“Fuck.” Dash ran a hand through his hair, then pulled Bryce to his side, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “Good job, baby. But can you please, for fuck’s sake, keep the sass under control?”
She shrugged. “I can’t help it.”
Dash huffed, then looked over Bryce at Genevieve. “You did good too.”
Genevieve blinked. “Oh, uh . . . thanks.”
She’d done amazing. No one here even knew how hard that had to have been—they never would. The truth was between the two of us and a dead man.
“We’re outta here.” I hauled her away from the clubhouse, not loosening my grip on her hand until we were safe in the apartment.
“Phew.” She put her hands to her hair, wide-eyed and dazed. “We got married so we wouldn’t have to turn witness to the cops. I guess we should have thought about others too.”
“No shit.” The cops, at this point, were the least of our problems. I put my hands on her shoulders. “Proud of you.”
“I’m glad it’s over.” She fell into my chest, sliding her hands around my back.
When we hugged, it was normally her into my side.
Front-to-front holds were chaste at best. This was lasting, like she needed to be here for a hug.
My arms didn’t quite know where to settle.
On her waist? Her shoulders? I didn’t want to drop them too low, too close to her ass.
I decided on one at her shoulders and one just below her ribs.
Genevieve fit against me, her soft curves molding to my stony lines. And she was warm. God, she was warm. I’d forgotten how it felt to hold a woman. To sink into a woman’s hug. I dropped a cheek to her hair, taking the comfort she was offering.
It ended too soon. Genevieve broke away. “I’m glad we practiced.”
“Me too.”
“Do you think they believed us?” she whispered. The attitude and confidence she’d worn in the clubhouse slipped away. Her dark, beautiful eyes filled with fear.
“I sure hope so.”
Otherwise this would never end.
And it had to end.
I had to let her move on with her life. I had to get her free of this obligation.
She needed to leave this town and fade into a memory.
Before I forgot that I didn’t deserve her.