Chapter Eleven
Grayson
D istrict Judge Paul Whitlock
Jacksonville County Sheriff Caleb Jones
Mayor Ron Davidson
I’m going to vomit. Every name I add to this list causes bile to rise in my throat. This world is twisted and so beyond fucked up. People who hold power are at the center of destroying others’ lives.
Nerds let me take over all the car trackers that we placed earlier this year. The biggest one I watch is the Wilson’s car, which comes and goes throughout the day. For the most part, it seems to be just for Tabby’s school things and Richard’s job at the local law firm. I have a large map of Jacksonville and all the towns surrounding it taped up to the far wall in the tech room. Using different colored sharpies, I have been keeping track of different places all the trackers go.
We placed about twenty-five trackers and so far, I have been able to eliminate five from our list. The other twenty all make frequent stops that we need to look into because they aren’t their usual jobs, errand stops, or homes.
Right now, I’m making a list of everyone who has gone to one specific address that sits right on the outskirts of Jacksonville on the opposite side of town from where our club is. This is the first true lead I have found. For the most part, these people are smart. They seem to park their cars in random parking lots and then get rides with other people or have someone meet them somewhere close by.
A few hours later, Presley pops her head in and lets Nerds and I know she made lunch. Nerds grabs some, but I pass. I know he is working on his stuff, and I have to figure this out. Something about this one place is really bothering me.
I’m pacing in front of the map on the wall, trying to put all the pieces together. Why does no one stop here for long? Tammy has come here twice since we put a tracker on her car. But others come and go, quickly. Then there are the random stops at different stores where their cars stay parked for sometimes hours. Even if the store is closed. Then when they come back to their car, they go and drive by the one address but never stay for longer than five minutes.
A soft knock sounds on the door before it’s gently pushed open, and Harley comes into the tech room glancing from Nerds to me. She looks me up and down, frowns, and walks up to me, gently cupping my cheek in her soft hand. “Are you alright?”
Sighing, I pull Harley against me, hugging her tight. “No,” I mumble. “I can’t figure this out. None of it makes any fucking sense, and all I want to do is put the pieces together to get one answer. Just one.”
Nerds, who has been working at his desk on the opposite side of the room, glances up at us. “Why don’t you take a break? Maybe coming back with a clear head will help. I might have time then to look it over with you.”
I’m already shaking my head before he even finishes speaking. “No. I need an answer now . It’s driving me insane.”
He frowns. “Don’t let it get to you, Gray—”
“It’s not getting to me!” I snap at Nerds. “It’s not fair. This list…” I storm to the desk and grab the paper with the names of people who stop at the address. “These are people we should be able to trust. People who should have our fucking backs, and they are all wrapped in the selling of people, ” I spit.
“Can you give us the room?” Harley quietly asks Nerds after a moment.
He glances at her and narrows his eyes. He starts to speak, but she shakes her head.
“Just give us an hour or something. I know this is your space, but we need the room,” she demands, never breaking eye contact with him.
Nerds blinks a few times before scooping up his laptop and walking to the door.
“Thank you,” Harley says softly.
He stops and spins around with his hand on the doorknob. “You’re welcome?” he says like a question before shutting the door behind him.
“Sit down, Gray,” Harley orders, pointing to my desk chair. She grabs another chair and pulls it in front of me. “Talk to me.”
I huff out a breath. “This is just driving me insane,”
“No,” she talks over me. “Walk me through everything you are doing and just talk it out with me. You're the one who taught me that. Anytime I couldn’t get something down with a class, what did you always have me do?” she asks with a raised brow.
Fidgeting with my fingers, I respond, “Have you talk it out with me because sometimes we get stuck in our heads, and when the words actually come out, we are able to view it differently or get a different perspective from the person you're talking to.”
She nods, and leans back in the chair, waiting for me to begin. Running a hand through my hair, I sigh.
“I’ve been tracking everyone. There have been five trackers I have been able to remove from our list. They have never deviated from their normal routines, and everything checks out with them. But the other twenty have something suspicious or weird about where they go, and I am trying to sort through it all. There is one address that a lot of these people have gone to, but they never stay there longer than five to ten minutes. Tammy’s car has only been there twice since we placed the tracker, which you’d think if it was connected to the trafficking ring, she’d be there more often.”
“Okay, so let's go through each name together. And then at the end, we can put all the pieces together for where they match up and form a list,” Harley says, growing determined. “Who do you want to start with?”
Taking a deep breath, I reach forward and cup her face between my hands, searching her eyes before I lean in and kiss her.
She gasps softly, allowing me entry to her mouth. Our tongues twirl together, and she moans softly, gripping my shoulders and moving closer. Before it can go farther and I get an even worse hard-on, I pull back.
“What was that for?” she breathes.
“How could I ever be in a room with you and not give in to the urge to kiss you? Especially when I am one of the lucky ones who gets to touch you,” I murmur, feeling my cheeks heat.
Scooting back without looking up at Harley, feeling more vulnerable than I wanted, I bring up the list of trackers on my screen, each one labeled with a name, and click on the first one.
District Judge Paul Whitlock. “This is a local judge in Jacksonville. He lives in a gated community about five minutes away from Main Street. He has been in practice for fifteen years. He ended up on our list to be tracked because he had some sketchy proceedings. Like a few child custody cases where the kids were all placed in the same group home, all teenagers, and they went missing within six months of being placed there.
“Nerds contacted a CPS worker to discuss one of the cases by lying about who he was, and she said that there was nothing wrong with the foster home the teens had been in. She doesn’t know who called in a report of abuse, but it landed with Judge Whitlock, and he ruled it an unsafe home and sent them to the group home.”
“You think he is setting up these teens to be taken and sold through the group home?” Harley whispers.
“Yeah. We got access to two of the teens' names, Whitney and Jared. They both became orphans within a year prior to them ending up in court with Whitlock and then being moved to the group home. All under the false pretenses from an anonymous caller that their foster homes were violent or unsafe.”
“Holy shit. Are these the only few cases you’ve found?” she asks.
I shake my head. “No. There are definitely more dating back at least ten years, but we can’t access all of the records. We think he had a few different ways of getting these teens into the wrong hands.
“But it gets worse,” I say softly, checking on Harley to make sure she is handling this alright.
Her fists clench, but she nods, rolling her shoulders back.
“The cases where we found that this happened and then the teen went missing a few months after—” I hesitate before continuing, “—there have been four of them since we started tracking his car and after each kid disappears, Paul drives to this location.” I stand and walk over to the map, pointing out an old park in an older, run-down neighborhood. “He’s there for about ten minutes before he leaves.”
“After every kid he had in his courtroom? They then go missing and he goes there after?” she clarifies.
I nod. “Yeah, within three days of the teen going missing, he visits this park. He also is one of the ones who drives to this address.” I point on the map to the one location that most of these cars seem to go to but never stay for long. “He has gone there twice since we started tracking him, and they were at random times for less than five minutes.”
Harley nods and bites her lip, deep in thought. “Okay.”
She goes back to the desk and grabs a notepad and starts mapping out everything about Paul Whitlock on it. Once she’s done, she rips the page out and lays it out on the desk in the middle of the room.
“Who’s next?”
“Bethany Wright, a social worker.”
What feels like only an hour later, someone knocks on the door and then steps inside. Harley and I are bent over opposite sides of the middle desk pouring over all the pages we have made for each person.
Harley’s head shoots up and glares at Ryker, who is standing in the doorway. “What?” she snaps, and then winces. “Sorry, didn’t mean for that to be so harsh.”
Ryker rubs the back of his neck. “You guys have been in here for almost six hours. Do you want to take a break?”
We both shake our heads at the same time.
Ryker sighs. “Okay, alright, fine. But I’m going to go get food, and you both are going to eat it,” he demands before leaving the room.
Harley blinks a few times before glancing at me. “Six hours?”
I shrug and look at the clock. “Apparently.”
“I think we have this. But we’re missing something.” She chews on her lip.
I peer down at everything, running my eyes over each paper with a different name; we laid them out by who overlaps with who and common locations.
“Tammy. We need to do her, and then that’s everyone,” I sigh.
Harley grimaces but nods. We sit back down at the computers, pull up her tracker, and begin pouring over it. “What’s this place?” Harley points out a spot it seems Tammy goes to at least twice a week.
“A recreation center for the youth. It looks like Tammy takes Tabby there twice a week for some kind of cheer class they have. And Tammy makes donations to their assistance program.”
Pinching her lips together, Harley drums her fingers on her leg. “No, I mean, maybe Tabby goes there, but Tammy has to have other motives for being there. If there is one thing I can say for certain about the type of person Tammy is, it’s selfish. She isn’t going to waste her time and money with that, even if it’s for her daughter, unless she always gets something out of it.”
“Okay. We can make a note to bring it up to everyone, and maybe a few people could follow her and try to figure out what’s going on,” I say, jotting it down.
“Let’s map out her locations and see if there is any overlap with any of the others,” Harley suggests.
She stands at the map with a marker and marks spots as I give them to her from the tracking history on the computer. It takes another few hours, including Ryker stopping back in to watch us eat and then leaving again.
Sitting back in my chair, I stretch my arms over my head and let my eyes wander over the map. There has to be something we’re missing here.
The door suddenly bangs open, jolting both of us out of our thoughts. Ryker and Cade both come into the room and shut the door. “Alright, Nerds is out there losing his mind, and I’m starting to lose mine, too,” Ryker says exasperated.
“That’s what happens when you sit outside a door for fucking hours on end,” Cade grumbles quietly.
Ryker shoots him a glare and then continues, “Fill us in and let us help you wrap up whatever you’re doing because you both need to get some sleep.”
We start at the beginning, showing them all the pages we made and laid out on the desk. After we finish filling them in, Cade takes a seat and looks over the pages of notes we have, and Ryker walks over to the map looking it over.
Harley runs a hand through her hair and slumps back into the chair with a sigh.
“You okay, beautiful?” I say softly.
She offers me a small, sad smile. “Yeah. This stuff just makes my mind go down paths I wish it wouldn’t.”
Taking her hand, I give it a light squeeze. “That’s understandable, but don’t hold it all in. If you need to talk, fight, or cry it out, tell us. Let us help you.”
She nods and blinks away the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes.
“Hey, did you guys notice this?” Ryker calls.
Harley and I both head over to him. He points to the location where most of these people have been but only ever stay for five minutes.
“What about it? We know it has to be connected in some way, but it’s also odd that Tammy never goes there,” I sigh.
Ryker grins and shakes his head. “Are you sure she doesn’t go there? Look.” He puts his finger over the dot where the address is and then moves it north, to a different street where we have a mark for a spot Tammy has been to. Then he moves his finger back to the same address and drags his finger east on the map to where another mark is for Tammy.
My eyes scan the map, and I slowly connect the dots.
“Holy shit,” I whisper and run back over to the computers, bringing up the tracking maps.
“I’m taking it as a job well done since Grayson said a cuss word,” Ryker chuckles as he and Harley come over and glance over my shoulders.
“Every week, she goes to a location that is less than three miles away from the address. According to the tracking history, it looks like she leaves her car at these spots for at least two or three hours.”
“So she is going to the same place as everyone else, she just isn’t parking there. Do you think she knows we’re tracking her car?” Harley asks, her forehead creasing in thought.
I shake my head. “No, there is no way she would keep going to the same spot for months on end where these other people go as well and not have moved it somewhere else if she thought she was being tracked.”
“So, everyone else goes to the place for less than ten minutes, but Tammy goes at least weekly and stays for hours? What the fuck is it? We need to get eyes on it,” Ryker remarks.
“It could be like a post office, where you usually drop off and or pick up. Most of the time it's a fast process. It seems like that’s what's happening at the warehouse,” Cade suggests.
“We need to take this to Rage and everyone,” I sigh, my eyes starting to burn from doing this for hours.
“That can wait until tomorrow. In the meantime, you both come with me. It’s time for bed,” Ryker orders with narrowed eyes, daring us to defy him.
Harley glances at me. “Why do I feel like we are being put in time out?”
Cade chuckles and walks over to her, gripping the back of her neck and giving her a possessive kiss that leaves her breathless. “Because you two have pushed it today, and Ryker tried to get you to take a break earlier, but you both refused, so it’s not an option now. Get some sleep, baby girl.”
She nods up at him, and he kisses her forehead and leaves the room. Ryker points out the door with a stern face, and we both try, and fail, to hold back our laughs as we leave and head upstairs with him.
Ry shoves us both into Harley’s room, and we all get ready for bed.
Harley
There's a tense silence in Gabe's office as everyone pours over all the information Grayson and I just gave them about everything we discovered.
It wasn't easy to recount it all. Yesterday, I was able to shove it into a little box and just focus on helping Gray. But now, it’s all rushing to the surface as everyone goes over all the information about the sick people who are involved in the selling of others.
“We need to get eyes on the warehouse as soon as possible,” Nerds says, staring down at his laptop screen and seeing what he can find out about the building. “There honestly isn’t much I can find out about it. The images I’ve located online are all years old, so we can't rely on them for accuracy with how things may look now. Our best option is a few of us going to check things out.”
Gabe nods, looking over Nerds hesitantly before speaking. “Can you work with Grayson to make sure he gets all the information and pictures you need? That way you can stay here.”
Nerds’s eyes shoot up from the laptop screen, and he narrows them at Gabe, who sighs and raises a hand.
“It’s not up for debate. Until we have all the information, you aren’t going anywhere near any of this unless it’s from here,” he orders gruffly.
“He’s right, kid. Just for now at least,” Colton agrees.
“I fucking know that,” Nerds snaps and then squeezes his eyes shut, taking a deep breath before talking to Gray. “I’ll set you up with everything you’ll need, and I can be available from here if needed.”
Gray nods and Ryker, who had been leaning against the wall behind our chairs, steps forward, gripping the top of the chair so hard his knuckles turn white. “I’m going, too,” Ryker states.
Gabe breathes through his nose, staring at Ryker. When I glance up at him, I see he is glaring at Gabe as if daring him to say no.
“I want to go,” I add, facing Gabe again.
“No,” Gabe and Colton respond at the same time.
Raising a brow, I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. “This is as much my fight as it is anyone else’s. Eventually, you are going to have to learn how to trust me to do these things. I know I’ve made reckless decisions,”—I pointedly glance at Gabe—“but I need to do this. And I’d much rather go with all of us on the same page, as a team. Refusing to let me be a part of this will do nothing but put me at more risk because it won’t stop me.”
Dropping my hands down to my lap, I squeeze them into tight fists and take a deep breath, not looking up at anyone.
“This is my revenge,” I continue solemnly. “This is how I redeem myself in my own eyes. This is how I prove to myself that I am strong, and I can handle this, and in the process of that save who knows how many others from going through what I did or worse.”
The room is so silent when I finish speaking that a pen dropping would sound like a bomb going off. A hand lands on my shoulder and squeezes softly. Ryker.
“We all have shit to deal with in some way. You have to still deal with your shitty father even as he rots in the ground,” he says to Gabe. “I have so much anger and violence running through my veins, and this gives me an outlet for it. Is it safe? No. But I think it’s taking what we all know how to do, what we all need to let out, and doing something good even if it’s not good in the eyes of the law.
“Don’t let your fear of losing Harley get in the way of that when you would be devastated if anything happened to any of us in this room. In this entire club. No one in this room was meant to live a normal life.”
I slowly raise my eyes and stare at Gabe. His shoulders are tense as he stares down Ryker, but the second his gaze moves to me, he relaxes and takes a breath. “Fine. I asked you to trust me, and I can work on returning that same trust.”
He leans forward, gripping my chin.
“Do not think for one second that me not wanting you involved has anything to do with me thinking you can’t handle it. You can handle this and anything life throws at you. I want you safe and sound. I never want you to experience another bad thing in your life.
“You don’t deserve it, and by protecting you, I can slowly pull the knife from my chest knowing I am making up for all the things I didn’t do for Lilian,” he finishes.
I open my mouth to say something, even if I don’t quite know what to say as tears gather in my eyes and an unfamiliar feeling sits on my chest as I stare at Gabe, my dad, in a new light. It’s almost as if a new spot in my heart opens, and Gabe just waltzes right in and makes himself at home.
He pulls back and addresses everyone in the room. “Blade, Stone, and I will go with Ryker, Grayson, and Harley. Cayden, stay here with Axe and Sugar. We can’t have too many people going.”
Cade grunts from behind us where he stands against the wall.
Everyone disperses to change into black clothing and get ready to leave. When I come back downstairs, Cade grabs my arm and pulls me down the hall to the side of the stairs that leads towards the kitchen.
“Be fucking safe,” he demands, his piercing eyes boring into mine.
I grin up at him. “Aw, you really do care, caveman,” I tease him.
His face remains serious as he gives me a harsh kiss and mumbles, “You have no fucking idea.” Before he fully walks away, he faces me again, his expression hesitant as he asks, “Stay with me tonight?”
I nod, unable to form words. He grunts and walks off.
“He’s changing,” a voice says from the opposite direction. I jump slightly and face Noah, who is leaning against the entrance to the main room. We lock eyes. “What do you have on you?”
I furrow my brows. “Weapons?” I reply, and he nods. “The knives that I got from Linc.”
“Come with me,” he says, walking back into the main room.
Hurrying to catch up to him, I ask, “What did you mean by he’s changing?”
He glances at me as we cross the room and enter the hall that leads to the stairs for the basement. “I know you are aware he didn’t talk before you were around. But I don’t know if you realize we meant never . There was the very rare occasion we could get him to say one small thing. But mostly, if he wanted to say something, he’d do it privately with Ryker and Grayson. Not even really with me.”
For the first time since I met Noah, his carefree attitude has dropped, and there is pain in his eyes. I frown as he continues.
“It’s not just him, either. Ryker was such a fucking troublemaker. I mean, we literally got to the point of putting a lock on him so he couldn’t even leave here without us letting him. He has calmed since you came around. He is more open and trusting and mostly thinks before he acts now.”
Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, Noah faces me.
“Grayson would keep his face buried in books. School or others.” He shrugs. “He distracted himself from his pain by learning and keeping his mind constantly running. He is more relaxed now and is able to handle everything coming up with Lincoln without falling apart because of you. And Cade…”
He hesitates. “You worry about him?” I ask quietly.
He jerks his head in a nod. “Yeah, I really fucking do. There’s a lot that happened between him and our father, but I have a feeling I only glimpsed the tip of the iceberg, and there is a lot under the surface I don’t know about.
“I was beginning to think for a while that I was going to lose him. I didn’t know how, but I knew he couldn’t continue on how he was, and now he is speaking more. Even if it’s just privately. He is around the club more than he’s ever been. And–and I’ve seen my baby brother smile more than I ever have since you came.”
Running a hand through his hair, he gestures down the hall and keeps walking to the locked steel door.
“I’m saying all of this because I want you to be aware of how much you are impacting everyone. I know you’re allowing all these new people in and learning to trust again yourself, but just remember they’re doing the same thing, just in different ways. The boys, Sugar, Rage, everyone honestly.”
Attempting to lighten the mood from all this heavy information I don’t really know how to process, I say, “You?” with a smile.
He turns his pain-filled eyes toward me. “Yes. Me, as well. I think this must be how it feels to have a younger sister. I want to wrap you in a bubble and protect you at all costs, but then I see the others wanting to do that, too.
“So I want to be by your side, helping you cause chaos while also knowing I can be there in case you need me. And watch you grow with my brothers. I want to see you all become who you are meant to be.”
He whispers the last part, then abruptly changes the subject, just about giving me whiplash.
“Alright, vest,” he says, grabbing a bulletproof vest off a rack on the wall that holds a bunch of them. He tosses it to me. “Put it on.”
Taking off my hoodie, I strap it on over my shirt, then toss back on the sweatshirt.
“I don’t know exactly how much Ryan taught you, but are you comfortable with a Glock 19? It’s a good one to have just in case,” Noah remarks.
“Yeah. That’s what I usually shot with him. There was another one too, but I can’t remember the name of it.” I chuckle and glance over his shoulder, scanning the rows and rows of guns they have in a large safe against the back wall. They have masks, vests, and other dark clothing on the left wall, along with other weapons on the right wall by the door and a few tables in the center of the room with chairs.
“Alright, princess, hopefully everyone is ready to go by now,” Noah comments as he grabs what he needs, and I tuck the gun into a holster that attaches to my jeans.
Rolling my eyes, I watch him lock the room back up and we head upstairs.
Here goes nothing… or everything.