Chapter 11
RYKER
“He was what now?” I asked.
Diesel sighed. “There, for a couple months, Alex Petrov attempted to pledge the Dead Souls.”
“What happened to him? Why didn’t he make it?” Bear asked.
I still reeled from the shock of the news, though.
“He botched a mission we were running at the time because of conflicting interests with his father’s own missions. He intentionally tanked it, we lost out on tens of thousands of dollars’ worth of merchandise when we were peddling it there for a bit, so he was let go,” Knox said.
I shook my head. “Fucking—you talk about us holding back shit. But seriously?”
“Hey, that hasn’t been relevant at all until now. You saw what was happening with our families and you still didn't come clean with yours,” Grave said.
I sneered at him. “You think it’s my fault Ariel’s in this situation?”
“All right. Settle down. I’ve had enough of this shit,” Diesel said.
My eyes whipped over to Rock. “What’s the address of this woman?”
He shook his head. “I’m not giving you that. I’ve got no guarantee you won’t go storming into that house.”
“And if I do?”
Diesel glared at me. “You won’t, because we need a plan in place.”
“There’s nothing in this woman’s background that suggests she actually works with Lars and his men,” Rock said.
“Except for the fact that she has my fucking daughter!” I roared.
Rock stood up. “I’m not giving you shit until you promise me, you’re going nowhere near that house.”
“I wouldn't give him shit at all, if I were you,” Brewer murmured.
I drew in a deep breath and I saw the flicker of something behind Rock’s eyes. Just enough of a glimmer for me to see the bone he was tossing me. I sucked my anger down as much as I could, settling myself back onto my feet. And with a nod of my head, I sighed.
“I get it. We have to go at this as a team. Like we’ve done in the past,” I said.
“Yes. It’s the only way to protect all of our families and preserve yours,” Rock said.
“Can I at least have the address to give myself a peace of mind? I can look it up on Google Maps and see my daughter’s not in some shithole?” I asked.
“I’m sure Rock doesn’t mind doing that,” Diesel said.
“With all due respect, I’d like to do it myself. I just willingly left my little girl behind with that woman. I’d like to have at least some semblance of control in this situation.”
Saint sighed. “Give the poor man the address. Give him peace any way he can get it.”
I knew Diesel didn’t agree, but Rock wrote down the address.
I slipped it into my back pocket as the guys started talking over one another.
Trying to figure out our next move. But Rock?
He simply nodded his head with a grin across his cheeks.
He knew. He knew what I was about to do.
And as his head nodded softly down the hallway behind him, I cleared my throat.
“Gotta piss, you guys. Be right back,” I said.
Diesel waved me off, then continued brainstorming with the rest of the guys.
And me? Well, I backtracked down the hallway before sneaking around in the dark.
Making my way for that side porch door. Probably the worst fucking place to put a door in a clubhouse like this one.
But it worked in my favor. I slipped away from the arguing crew and raced for my bike. Ready to get to this fucking address.
Ready to keep a watchful eye on my little girl.
I walked my bike down the road before I struck it up.
I didn’t want it startling the guys and having them come after me.
Did they really think I’d sit back and let some random woman connected to the fucking mafia take care of my little girl?
Fucking not. The only reason why I didn’t take Ariel from her in that soup shop was because I hadn’t been armed.
And I wouldn't make that mistake this time.
With two guns on either side of my body and one against my ankle, I raced off into town.
At a stoplight, I slipped the piece of paper out and took note of the address.
I punched the damn thing into my phone, pulling up a map before mounting my phone to my bike.
I followed where it told me to go. Then, I found myself shell-shocked as I made my way into a neighborhood filled with massive homes.
I mean, they were massive for me. Easily three times that of the clubhouse.
So, around five thousand square feet a piece?
Perfectly manicured lawns. Enough space between the houses for the neighbors not to disturb one another.
Two-and-three story homes that backed up to forestry I didn’t think existed in the city of Redding.
I drove up and down the streets of that neighborhood to make sure I didn’t spot anything off.
If the mafia was watching the house, the last thing I wanted was to park my ass outside of it and be a sitting duck.
That’d put me at risk as well as my kid.
And that shit wasn’t happening. However, I didn’t see anything off.
No black SUVs sitting around. No one in the trees, watching from tree-stands with scopes or shit like that.
I even checked the slits for the sewers to see if anyone had perched themselves in there. And there was no one.
So, I parked my bike in front of the house.
It was a gorgeous house. I mean, the most rundown of the houses on the block.
Kind of tucked away off the road a bit. Definitely shrouded by trees at any given moment.
But still a nice house. With a bit of elbow grease and pressure-washing, the place would shine like the rest of the houses on the block.
Out of all the places I expected to be, though, upper middle-class suburbia wasn’t one of them.
I sighed as I stared down the house. With its gray-scale stone structure and its wrap-around porch, the place looked almost homely.
Not as bright as any of the other houses.
The porch was a bit crooked from years of use.
Definitely an older home, but it had bones.
Strong bones. Despite its outer appearance, it was easily the largest house on the block.
Two stories with a lofted portion. What looked like a basement, with the white-washed brick that trailed off down a sloping hill off the side of the house.
It was the only house on this little dead-end crook the neighborhood had, which told me who ever lived in this house probably owned the chunks of property around it in order to keep it secluded.
I was definitely at the right place.
I sat there, trying to figure out what the fuck to do now that I’d arrived. I turned off my bike and straddled it, then turned off my phone. I slid it onto my pocket. I tried buying myself some time before it turned from me needing a plan to me being a fucking chicken.
So, I weighed my options.
If this woman was alone, I had the capability to barge in there and take Ariel.
But if this woman had someone else from the mafia there with her, I’d have a bit of a fight.
A fight I could take. But it exposed Ariel to the kind of life I lived, which was a massive risk.
Going in blind was a stupid thing to do.
At the very least, I needed to know how many I was up against.
But I couldn't be this close to my daughter and not doing anything.
Again.
A motion out of the corner of my eye caused me to turn my attention to the window.
On the first floor. Right by the door, in what I assumed was some sort of sitting room.
That was usually how houses like this were laid out.
The curtains rustled before one of the blinds were pulled down.
And the second that little eye peeked out, I grinned.
She had good senses, this woman. But the mere fact that she was peeking out told me everything I needed to know.
She was alone.
Perfect.
I whipped my leg around my bike, sliding off the leather seat.
And as I made my way across the street, I kept my eyes peeled.
The blind flipped closed and the curtain fell back into place.
So, I braced myself. Even if this woman didn’t know how to shoot a gun or anything, if she grabbed one, I’d have to wrestle it away from her.
I braced myself for a fight. I trotted down the elongated driveway and hopped onto the porch.
I didn’t have a plan. I simply had to wing it.
But after standing there for a few seconds and not hearing a gun cock on the other side of the door, I took a chance.
And knocked.
I knocked on the door a few times, allowing my left hand to rest softly against the butt of the gun at my side.
Still concealed. Still cloaked from the world, but there if she swung the door open and stuck a damn shotgun in my face.
I didn’t hear anything, though. So, I picked up my fist and knocked on the door again.
Before her voice finally sounded.
“Who is it?”
“I’m sorry to bother you so late. But something’s going on with my bike,” I said.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
I sighed. “Is there any chance I could use your phone or something?”
“Do you not have one on you?”
“I don’t have signal in this part of town.”
“Seems to be a common thing,” she said.
“Would you let me use your phone? If that’s all right. I just need to call someone to come get me and this bike,” I said.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can help you.”
I held back a growl. “Please. You’re the only one with a light on right now. And I’d really like to not sleep in the woods tonight.”
“I can direct you back to the main road. I’m sure you can flag someone down there.”
“Please, Miss. I just need your phone for a few seconds. I promise, I’ll give it back.”
“Who do you need to call? If you give me the number, I can call them for you. What’s your name?”
Fucking hell. “I’m begging you.”
“And I’m giving you an answer.”
“I really need to use your phone.”
“And I really need to stay safe.”
I sighed. “Look, I understand. Completely. I’m not here to hurt you. I just need to—”
“Call someone about your bike. Yes. I can hear you just fine. Give me the phone number and I’ll call them on your behalf. I’ve already got my phone in my hand.”
Which means you’re a step away from calling 9-1-1. “Will you just listen to me, please? My friends aren’t going to answer a phone call from a number they don’t recognize.”
“And I’m not going to answer the door for someone I only met yesterday.”
Fuck. “Open this door.”
“No. How did you find me? How did you figure out my address, Ryker?”
“Open this fucking door.”
“I’m calling the police.”
I slammed my fist against the damn piece of wood. “Just let me see Ariel!”
And as I leaned my forehead against the door, trying to hold back tears, I heard the lock on the other side flip.