Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Red
“ S hit!” I save everything on my laptop, grab it and search for Capone. He’s playing pool with Torch in the common room. Danyella, Daisy and their kids aren’t around, thankfully. This cannot wait. Capone spots me making a beeline right for him and before I can say anything and cause myself embarrassment, he sets his pool stick down.
“We’ll finish this later, Torch.” Capone’s dark eyes are full of rage and compassion if it’s possible to express both emotions at the same time. Capone heads to his office and I follow close behind before Torch can react.
“Shut the door,” he commands, sitting behind his desk. Framed photos of Danyella and Nina are all over the top along with papers scattered across the desk. “What do you have?”
I swallow back the bile crawling its way up my throat and take a deep breath. My face and neck are burning and I don’t know if it’s from embarrassment or rage this time. “Sheriff Donovan sent me an email threatening Kensi and anyone connected to him if we don’t back off the investigation into Nadia’s disappearance.”
Capone’s eyes darken even further hearing one of our own is in danger. He steeples his fingers together, “Go on.” The words come out as a growl. He’s doing all he can to keep his rage in check.
I clear my throat and open my laptop. Clicking on a few buttons, I push my laptop across the desk, turning it so Capone can see what’s on the screen. “It came from a strip club called Slammer Joint in Studio City.”
Capone raises an eyebrow, “And?”
This is it. This is where I tell the secrets I’ve been holding onto so tightly for all these years. “And Slammer Joint is a synonym for a place I never wanted to visit or think about again. A place I ended up after Tanya died and I spiraled down a dark path. As you can tell, they’re not very creative.”
“OK…, but what does this have to do with you?”
“Because of my past and why I was in prison. I was mixed up with a Russian mafia and did tech stuff for them. Only I didn’t know it was the Russians until I was arrested and the FBI’s foreign counterintelligence showed me proof. I was hired as a tech consultant to Slammer Joint Security firm. That’s how I knew this was meant for me.” I point to the email on the laptop.
“Why didn’t you turn on them and who is this Russian?” Capone asks leaning forward, his elbows resting on his desk.
Shaking my head, I respond. “I couldn’t turn on them. Apparently, they were watching me for a while. They knew how and when Tanya died. They knew my parents and their routines. They even knew I had a dog that came up missing. If I went against them, they would have and probably still will kill anyone I care about.”
“Who is this Russian asshole?” Capone growls.
“Valdimer.”
“Jesus fuck! Can’t we ever catch a break from these fuckwads? No sooner do we eliminate one, more pop up like cockroaches. Is this why they took Nadia? They found out about the two of you, which I had no idea about and I’m still pissed about.”
“I would think so, but I’m not sure.” I swallow hard. “I’m…”
Capone cuts me off with a raise of his hand. “I get it, Red. But don’t let it fucking happen again. Text everyone. We’ll have Church in an hour and you’re going to tell them everything. Every last fucking detail and then you’ll get your fucking head right and we’ll come up with a plan to find Nadia and get her back.”
Exactly one hour later, I’m sitting at the scarred oak table with the Royal Bastards logo etched in the center. If I were a smoker, I’d light up right about now to calm my nerves. Instead, I adjust my black-rimmed glasses for the thousandth time and bite my nails, waiting for all my brothers to file in.
Over the years this table has held our secrets, suffered our rage, soaked up our tears, felt our happiness and succumbed to our fears. Many men have confessed their deepest, darkest secrets in this room, at this table and now it’s my turn.
Capone is sitting at the head of the table with Blayze, our VP, on his left. Torch, our Enforcer, on his right. I’m sitting between Aftermath, our Sergeant at Arms, who is next to Blayze and Tiny, our Road Captain. Trigger, our Treasurer, Dagger, the Chaplin and Derange, the Tail Runner, are sitting across from me. Everyone is quiet, waiting for the meeting to start.
None of these men know why we’re here but that’s about to change. Capone slams his gavel, made by Dagger, onto the table.
“Church is in session. As you all know, Kensi’s friend Nadia is missing.” Everyone nods their heads in agreement. “There is more to this story, but it’s not mine to tell.” Capone points to me. “The table is yours, Red.”
My face flames bright red from being put on the spot, but I take a deep breath and clear my throat. “I know Nadia.” Shame for feeling something for someone after Tanya died fills my voice.
“What the fuck?” Aftermath growls. “That’s Kensi’s best friend outside this club and you didn’t mention you fucking knew her when Kensi came to you?”
My shame turns to rage, matching Aftermath’s. “It’s not your fucking business that I know her, Aftermath. It’s your business she needs help.” Capone clears his throat, warning me to be honest. “You all know she’s Nolan Ryan’s sister, but what you don’t know is, she’s the woman I’ve been seeing. We met at a bar a few months back, hit it off and well, the rest is history.” Heat builds from my chest and crawls its way up my neck. I swallow hard and try to steady my racing heart and calm the blush creeping through my body.
“Holy shit! Red got laid! It’s about damn time, brother.” Derange exclaims, pounding his fist on the table.
“I thought for sure you’d die a virgin.” Torch laughs and sits back in his chair.
The teasing and taunting continue until I’m hot and my face is fire engine red. God, how embarrassing. I rest my head in my hands and wait for the ribbing to stop. I think about Nadia and the way her body fits perfectly with mine like we are made for each other. Guilt eats away at me for caring about her. Capone slams the gavel on the table, putting an end to my misery.
Everyone quiets down. “Now that’s out of the way, there’s more. Red, go ahead.” He motions for me to continue.
"Before I came here, I did hard time. When I was eighteen, my girlfriend died in a hit and run and I spiraled. I went nuts looking for her killer. She was the love of my teenage life. My family sent me to counseling. When that didn’t help, I cut everyone off. I swore the night she died that I’d never love or care about another woman ever again and I left. I have been highly skilled with computers and hacking since I was about fourteen. I honed that skill until I became the best hacker on the West Coast. A man named Lance Obolensky approached me with a job I couldn’t refuse. He made me believe I could use their resources to find Tanya’s killer. So, I took the job at a security firm in San Francisco called Slammer Joint. For a few years, I’d hack people’s accounts, move money from accounts, and all that bullshit. Then shit got real. I was getting closer to finding out who killed Tanya when I received a phone call from Lance. His boss needed me to hack into a system and send him the information. So, easy, breezy, I did it. A few days later, the FBI’s counterintelligence was knocking on my door and I ended up in prison for hacking into a government website and selling information to the Russian mob.
“That’s when I really shut off all emotions and feelings. I was sentenced to five years in prison since I had no priors and had no idea I was working for the Russian Mafia. I spent five long years in maximum security, fighting off the worst of the worst in there every day, including the guards, until one day a man took me under his wing. I was so tired of fighting for my life, I was at the end of my rope when he offered me protection and told me about the Royal Bastards. His name was Crawl, whose brother is Rage from the Georgia Chapter.
“I did my time, got out and here I am.” I take a break from speaking to let all the information soak in. Thirsty as hell, I open the mini fridge behind me, crack open a beer and guzzle it.
“There’s more isn’t there?” Dagger asks. He’s gone from brother to Chaplin in a heartbeat. I can feel the sympathy radiating off him in waves.
I nod my head and take my seat again. “After I got out and came here, I’ve been looking into Lance and who he works for. What I thought was a security firm was actually a front for the Russians. The name of the security firm, which I already told you, was Slammer Joint Security Firm.” I snort at my stupidity. “Yeah, I know but I was eighteen and spiraling. They offered me the world and I took it.”
“What does that have to do with Nadia missing?” Aftermath asks, still pissed as hell, which I don’t blame him.
“Sheriff Donovan, Kensi’s dad, sent me an email a few days ago. It threatened him and the club to stop looking for Nadia or we’d be sorry. I’ve been tracing it and this morning I got a hit at a strip joint in Studio City named Slammer Joint. Creative, huh.” I raise an eyebrow. “So that tells me Nadia’s disappearance is because of me and not Kensi or Nolan.”
“Let’s go down to this strip joint and break some fucking skulls.” Tiny smashes his meaty fists on the table, making it rattle. He’s called Tiny for always loving the smaller animals. The tinier they are, the more his big ass heart melts for them. But he is anything but Tiny. His name is a contradiction to the size of the guy. He might be the complete opposite of his road name and will bash anyone’s head in with a flick of his wrist, but he has a soft side to him and women love it. He is the size of John Coffey from The Green Mile and he is just as gentle too.
“We can’t,” Capone speaks before anyone else thinks Tiny’s idea is the best. “If we go in there guns blazing, they’ll know we’re on to them and kill Nadia.”
“What’s the plan, P?” Torch asks.
“We call in reinforcements.” Capone picks up his phone, puts it on speaker and dials a number. Voicemail picks up and a gruff, male voice tells him to leave a message. Capone hangs up without leaving a message and points to me. “Red, take Torch, Dagger and Tiny, find Nolan and bring him here. I’m going to call Allura from our Royal Harlots sister chapter to see if she can get anyone on the inside of this fucking strip joint. I’m done playing hide and fucking seek with these asshats.” Capone orders.
“On it, Prez.”
Torch, Dagger, Tiny and I are on our bikes and pulling out of our compound in less than five minutes. It’s been days since I’ve seen the sun and I squint through my Ray Bans as the four of us speed toward the PCH. We weave in and out of traffic and turn right, down a private drive that overlooks the Pacific Ocean. No cars are in the driveway which tells me Nolan and Krimson aren’t here. Where the fuck could they be?
I pop my kickstand down and turn off my bike. Torch, Dagger and Tiny do the same. The ticking of our cooling engines and the waves hitting the shoreline are the only noises surrounding us. “Let’s check it out in case they’re here but hiding,” I order.
I’m pissed they’re not here and even more pissed I have to look for them. Tiny and I take the rear. Torch and Dagger take the front. Walking along the side of the house, we stay out of sight, against the side of the house until the back opens up to a massive porch overlooking the ocean. Below the porch is a cement slab with outdoor furniture and a glass sliding door. From my understanding, someone blew up this house and Krimson had to have it rebuilt. It’s dark as fuck as I peer inside. I can’t see in at all which makes me very uneasy. Once Tiny and I have the bottom cleared, we take the steps on the side of the porch two at a time. When we reach the top, we’re facing the house and our backs are to the ocean. A massive swimming pool sits in the middle of the deck, and patio furniture is strategically placed around the pool. A small changing room to the left and the banister to the porch wrapped around the whole thing. Glass sliding doors and huge glass windows surround this side of the house and it’s also dark inside.
We cautiously approach and Tiny taps a window. “Bulletproof glass. Smart girl.”
My eyes scan around the perimeter spotting several security cameras. I point to one. “They know we’re here now.” I approach one and stand directly in front of it, to my full intimidating height. “Nolan Ryan, I will find you.” I glare into the camera and lean closer. “Your sister needs you.” I turn and walk off the porch, Tiny following.
If I were Nolan-fucking-Ryan, where would I be?
Dagger and Torch come from the front of the house. “No one is here.” Torch states.
“Fuck!” I scrub my hands down my face. I keep playing everything over in my head that I know about Nolan, Krimson and their merry band of misfits.
Tiny lets out a low whistle near the garage, pulling me from my head. “Check this fucking beast out.” He points to the window and I walk to him. A nineteen sixty-two grey Shelby Cobra 260 CSX 2000 sits inside in all its shiny glory.
“That’s it!” I shout and run to my bike.
I straddle the beast and fire her up. I’m done waiting and fucking around. The guys can follow me or not, I don’t give a flying fuck anymore. I need to get Nadia back. I roll out of Krimson’s driveway and throttle the gas, making my bike scream and the rear tire spin. Once it catches, I shoot off like a rocket on my way to find Nolan-fucking-Ryan and end this waiting shit. I will get Nadia back with or without his help.