Chapter 18
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JOHNNY “HAWK” MANN
At least two dozen patrol cars are blocking the road that leads to the main entrance of the camp, making it fucking impossible for me to get through. I slam my hand on the center of the steering wheel, honking the horn obnoxiously.
“You would think with two minors missing and a dead body, they’d be scouring the area, looking for leads,” I growl as I keep my palm firmly planted on the horn. With my free hand, I lower the driver’s side window and poke my head out of it. “Come on, move your fucking car.”
“Just let me out here,” Bishop orders.
I’m about to argue, but I stop myself. These motherfuckers aren’t moving, and the man has just spent three plus hours traveling. He has no idea where his son is—if he’s fucking hurt or… God, I can’t even think it, much less say it.
He opens the passenger door and hops out. His woman doesn’t waste anytime removing herself from the back of the cage and follows his lead. I shift the truck into park and am about to get out too when my gaze wanders past the slew of patrol cars, instantly zeroing in on the fleet of bikes parked down the road.
I rip open my door, but I only get one boot on the running board before another Harley zooms past me, weaving between the patrol cars.
“What the fuck…”
The bike comes to a stop a couple of cars down and I get a good look at the insignia on the back of the rider’s kutte.
The Northern Grizzlies.
For fuck’s sake.
There is no good reason for these motherfuckers to be here.
My eyes snap back to Bishop who stops talking with one of the cops and stares at the rider too, confusion marring his features. I don’t think he knows what we’re about to walk into, and there’s no fucking time to brief him while his kid is missing. He leaves the cop with Charlotte and starts straight for the rider, his fists clenched tight at his sides. He’s not wearing his leathers, to anyone here he’s just a fucking civilian.
A distraught father desperate for answers.
“Bishop, hold up!” I shout as I round the front of the truck. He pays me no mind as he reaches the rider, standing as a roadblock in front of the Harley.
“What fucking business do you have here?” he sneers.
Shit.
I pick up the pace, finally reaching them, and immediately step in front of Bishop. Pressing a hand to his chest, I shove him back. “Leave this to me, and go get whatever intel you can on your boy, yeah?”
“You motherfuckers the reason Silver’s niece is missing?”
Bishop glares over my shoulder, and I take that as my cue to turn shit up. Spinning around, I glance at the patch on the man’s kutte.
Oak.
I’m not familiar with the members of the charter, I just know the history, and the bad blood that runs between The Northern Grizzlies and The Satan’s Knights spans decades.
“Who the fuck is Silver?” Bishop sneers from behind me.
Ignoring Bishop’s question, Oak’s eyes narrow on me. “Maverick still trying to fill his daddy’s shoes? Evening scores and avenging old debts?” He swings his leg over his bike, rising to his full height.
I shake my head.
“This ain’t Maverick’s beef. Now, I don’t know who the fuck you are or who Silver is, but I’m guessing we’re all here for the same fucking reason. Two kids are missing. One of them is ours, and one is yours.”
By the time the last word leaves my lips, Bishop and I are surrounded by Oak’s brothers—all of them ready to fucking tear us apart. They start shouting, firing questions at Bishop and I, accusing us of having a hand in the missing girl.
It’s fucking chaos.
“My fucking son is gone too. You want to sit here and point fucking fingers? How do you know your girl isn’t the reason they’re gone?” Bishop shouts.
“Well, well, what do we have here?” The Sheriff singsongs as he makes his way between us and the Northern Grizzlies. His eyes bounce from my kutte to Oak’s “Been a long time since I seen the likes of you folks breathing the same air as one another. Someone want to explain to me why a member of the Satan’s Knights is here, at the scene of two missing teens—one of them being the niece of a Northern Grizzly?”
“Conner is my son,” Bishop reveals. “I’m a member of the Satan’s Knights…the New York charter.” He pauses, jutting his thumb toward me. “Seeing as I’m not from these parts, my brother, here, is helping me out. Giving me and my wife a ride, and a place to land while you fucks find out what the hell happened to my kid.”
“You make it a habit of not wearing your colors?”
I turn my attention to the man taunting Bishop, my gaze dropping to read the patch on his kutte… Silver . Ah, so it’s his niece that’s missing.
“I bleed red and black, but my son comes first. Got word my kid was missing, that he was last seen hanging around with a girl that’s been dealing with her own trauma and the first thing I did was grab my woman, and my wallet to get us on fucking plane. It’s called priorities. Maybe that’s why your girl is missing. If you made her a priority—”
Bishop doesn’t get to finish his sentence as Silver lunges for him. Thanks to my years of combat, my reflexes are like lightning. In one quick move, I got my fingers around his throat.
All hell breaks loose after that. Fists go flying and Bishop and I are quickly outnumbered. The police swarm us, pulling us apart. But the damage is already done.
A light shines on an old beef.
Vows of vengeance are silently promised.
“Enough!” The sheriff barks. “You want to kill each other, go right ahead. I’ve been itching to put you bastards behind bars for a while now.” His gaze holds mine and he shakes his head. “Be my fucking honor to do it.”
I bet.
These pigs have been sniffing around us for years. They just can’t make anything stick.
“What I won’t do is sit back and have you interfere with official police business. I have a dead body and two children missing. Now, the only people I want to talk to are the legal guardians of the missing children. The rest of you can take your carnage down the road.”
The cop holding me back loosens his grip on me, and I break free. I don’t tear my eyes away from the Grizzlies as I make my way toward Bishop, communicating that I’ll be close. Reluctantly we all part ways, leaving Bishop and Silver to deal with the sheriff. I go to my cage, and they straddle their bikes, but we respectively keep our eyes on our guys. It doesn’t matter if there is a dozen of them and only two of us. I’d love nothing more than to lay these fuckers down one by fucking one.
A half hour goes by and some of the Northern Grizzlies leave the scene. I contemplate calling Maverick, but I decide this whole fucking saga is a conversation for the table. I do shoot him a text, though, suggesting he round up the guys, and brace for church. Eventually, Bishop and Charlotte make their way back to the cage, neither of them looking all that pleased.
Once he’s in the passenger seat, I turn to him. “Well?”
His blue eyes snap to mine. “Well, why don’t you tell me what the fuck that was all about? What’s your beef with the Northern Grizzlies?”
“It’s not my story to tell.”
“Hawk…my son’s life is at stake here, and these fucking cops are more concerned about a war breaking out between the clubs than they’re concerned about him and that girl. Now start fucking talking.”
“Bro, whatever happened between the two clubs happened way before my time. I already gave Mav the heads up that we ran into some complications, and he’s rounding up the guys for church. Whatever questions you got, you need to direct them at him.”
His jaw ticks angrily, but he doesn’t say another word. I drop the truck into reverse and hit the gas.
“That aside, they give you any intel on your boy?”
“Just that they think he snuck out with the girl. The counselors say she’s troubled. A couple of kids got wind of her situation and decided to pick on her,” Charlotte supplies. “And Connor being Connor, probably stood up for her.”
“What’s her situation?”
“Her mother killed her father,” Charlotte supplies.
I raise an eyebrow, but don’t say anything.
“And that Silver guy is her uncle,” Bishop adds. “He’s her legal guardian.”
Jesus fuck.
“What about the body they found?”
Bishop shakes his head. “They’re not saying anything.”
“Maybe they’re not connected,” Charlotte says hopefully. “The kids could’ve taken off in a different direction than that lake house.”
“Peaches, baby, they found the canoe right there near the house.”
“That doesn’t mean anything. They could’ve ran into the woods, or maybe they swam to the other side of the river. Kids do crazy things.”
Bishop doesn’t argue with her, but the expression filling his face gives away his thoughts.
These kids aren’t lost.
They’re either dead or in grave danger.
I pull into the compound and park the cage in the first open spot I find. Bracing one hand against the steering wheel, I drag my eyes from the fleet of bikes lined in front of the clubhouse and stare at Bishop.
“You go on in, I’ll grab your shit from the back.”
Bishop gives me a curt nod, then opens the passenger door. Once he’s out, he turns to help his wife. Charlotte pauses, touching my shoulder.
“Thanks, Hawk.”
The woman has been nothing but optimistic the entire ride over here, but judging by the unshed tears filling her eyes, I think she’s starting to break. I toss her a wink. “No thanks required, darlin’.”
She turns back to her husband, sliding her hand into his, and I watch as they make their way inside the clubhouse. I kill the engine on the van, deciding to leave the keys in the ignition. With all that’s going on this piece of shit is probably going to be getting more miles than my Harley and with my luck, I’ll be the idiot summoned to drive it.
Just as I exit the vehicle my phone rings.
Jo.
My jaw instantly tightens.
The girl doesn’t have the best timing.
My thumb swipes across the screen and I lift the phone to my ear. I don’t bother with pleasantries.
“Everything okay?”
“Hey…uh…yeah,” she replies. “I…um…” Her voice trails as I use my shoulder to prop the phone to my ear. I make quick work of removing Bishop and Charlotte’s bags from the back of the van. “Is this a bad time?”
There’s something about her tone that makes me pause. She’s ignored my calls all day. If I tell her it’s not a good time, she’ll hang up and we’ll play phone tag all fucking day, and then she’ll get inside her head, and all the progress I’ve made over the last six weeks will have been for nothing.
“It’s a bad time. I can tell,” she says, that husky voice of hers going all soft just like it does right before she asks me to fuck her every night. “It’s okay. Call me when you have a moment.”
I grind my teeth together. I don’t want to hang up on her, especially because I don’t know when I’m going to get around to calling her back now with all this shit going on.
“You going to answer?”
Silence stretches through the line before she finally replies. “I’ll answer.”
Unclenching my jaw, I drag in a deep breath. “Then I’ll call you later tonight.” The three little words I’ve been itching to say burn at the tip of my tongue. Instead, I say, “The club has something going on.”
As the words leave my lips, I realize until now things have been relatively calm. Jo has yet to experience the mayhem associated with the Satan’s Knights. I just hope it doesn’t send her running.
“Oh…”
Yeah, oh.
“We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Okay.” She goes quiet, then when I’m about to hang up, she calls my name. “Be careful out there.”
I close my eyes. The underlying meaning of those words ring through my ears.
Don’t leave me.
“Always.”
The door to the clubhouse opens, and Ghost steps out. His blue eyes zero in on me as he crosses his arms against his chest. It’s usually the president of a motorcycle club that’s the most intimidating, but our vice president can bring grown men to their knees with his cold stare.
“You plan on joining us anytime soon?”
Without another word to Jo, I disconnect the call and shove the phone into my pocket. I grab the bags and make my way toward him.
“Sorry, I forgot how to be a bell hop,” I mutter as I strut past him. Falling into step with me as I enter the clubhouse, Ghost slaps me on the back and guides me toward the chapel.
“I hear it’s just like riding a bike.”
I set the bags down on the nearest table and make my way toward Holly who stands outside the double doors, holding a basket full of cell phones. Dropping mine in with the bunch, I press a kiss to her cheek before entering the chapel and finding my seat at the table. Maverick slams the gavel against the grain of the wood and just like that church is in session .
“Well, you called and asked me to round everyone up,” Mav says as his eyes find mine from across the table. “What do you got for me and why are we discussing any of this before Wolf and his men arrive?”
“The girl that went missing with Bishop’s son is property of the Northern Grizzlies,” I reveal, pausing to gage Maverick’s reaction, but as per usual, the man remains stoic. The only time he gives anything away is when it comes to his wife and kids. “A couple of them were at the scene, and when they saw my colors, all hell broke loose. Guy named Oak automatically assumed we were behind the girl’s disappearance. Asked if you were still trying to fill your daddy’s shoes by settling old scores and avenging old debts.” I cock my head and drum my fingers against the table. “Whatever that means.” I don’t have to look around the room to know that half the table have their eyes pinned to Maverick. Most of us weren’t members when Mav’s dad held the gavel, therefore there is a lot of history we don’t know.
“Jesus,” Leftie mutters, pulling his oxygen mask off his face. “Never a dull moment.”
Out of everyone seated around the table, he probably has the most intel. He’s been around the longest and played a prominent role in the club when Preacher was the president. Maverick ignores him in favor of glancing at his brother, Shady.
“You know what this Oak character could be referring to?” he asks.
Shady shakes his head, then swings his gaze back to me. “Is it his kid that’s missing?”
“No,” Bishop replies. “The girl’s father is dead. Her mother killed him. Now, I don’t know what the story is there. All I know is that the uncle has custody of her.”
“Whose her uncle?”
“Some dude that goes by the name of Silver,” I supply.
Maverick shakes his head. “Doesn’t ring any bells.” He looks at Leftie. “You know who they’re talking about?”
Leftie leans back in his chair and lets out an audible sigh. “The only Northern Grizzlies I know are Jigsaw and Vector. One is dead and the other is the current president. Your pops and Jigsaw had a big beef back in the day. If any of those guys were around then, it would make sense if they were suspicious.”
Maverick lifts an eyebrow. “It would?”
“Yeah, things were heated between the two clubs, and it didn’t taper off until Jigsaw died.” Leftie pauses and glances back at Maverick thoughtfully. “There was a lot of talk when his son Vector took over. A lot of people thought a war would break out.”
“Yeah, well, the cops are anticipating a war breaking out between the two clubs now, and I gotta tell you, I think they’re more concerned about that, than they are the kids,” Bishop says, his eyes locking with Maverick’s. “I don’t know what kind of history you people have with these Northern Grizzlies, but I’m going to ask you to put that shit aside until my kid is found. We get Connor back safe and sound, I’ll personally help you take down these motherfuckers. But first we find my son.”
“Finding your kid is my priority. My father’s battles died with him,” Maverick says.
“It might not be that simple, son,” Leftie says. “Preacher’s problems with Vector were personal. They didn’t have much to do with the club.”
“What are you saying?” Shady asks.
“I’m saying there are people out there who believe your father was the one responsible for Jigsaw’s death, including our Sheriff.”
“Was he?” Maverick asks.
Before Leftie can fill in anymore blanks, the chapel doors swing open, and Holly saunters into the room.
“Holly, baby, not now,” Maverick says through gritted teeth.
“Cool your jets, Mav. The cops are here.” She turns her head and moves to the side, giving the two officers room to step inside. I recognize one of them as the sheriff from the camp. His eyes latch onto mine and he smirks.
“Beat me to the punch, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say evenly.
Maverick clears his throat. “Is there something I can help you with, Sheriff?”
“Just paying a friendly visit,” he says in a nonchalant tone.
“Shouldn’t you be trying to find my son?” Bishop growls.
“Oh, don’t you worry, Yankee, the whole department is out there looking for your kid. I’m just here as a courtesy to Maverick.” His gaze flits to our president and the cocky smirk he was sporting when he walked in transforms into a deadly glare. “You see there is a lot riding on this case and I’m not going to stand by and let you paint the town red with blood because your mommy couldn’t keep her legs closed and got herself knocked up when she stepped out on your daddy.”
“The fuck you just say,” Shady roars. The legs of his chair scrape across the floor as he rises to his full height. Leftie leans forward, stretching his arm out to hold Shady from making another move.
The Sheriff tears his eyes away from Maverick to regard Shady.
“Didn’t know mommy dearest slept with the enemy?” A sinister grin spreads across his face. “Poor Shady. Always in the dark. Rumor has it that’s the story behind your road name. Guess it’s true.” He turns back to Maverick. “I’m warning you, Burnside. Stay out of my way.” Then he glances at Bishop. “You too, Yankee.”
The room grows quiet as the Sheriff and his lackey see themselves out of the chapel. Holly closes the door behind them, immediately rounding the table and making her way to stand behind Maverick.
“Is what he said true?” Mav asks, his gaze focused on Leftie. “Did our mother have an affair with this Jigsaw guy?”
“Yes.”
Well, fuck…this just got a whole lot more complicated.