Chapter 8
Jules
V iolet arrives like a bat out of hell and I’m impressed by how quickly she got here. Her home is on the other side of town and she sounded a little drowsy like maybe I had woken her. She quickly gathers her things and gets out of her car, rushing up to the porch where I’m standing. My eyes bulge as I’ve never seen Violet like this. Usually when she’s working she wears jeans and t-shirts. Simple things. Because of the late hour she’s in what I’m guessing is her sleep wear. An oversized tee that probably belongs to her boyfriend, a tiny pair of shorts and Ugg boots.
My cock, which wasn’t working at the live porn show earlier, now roars back to life. Until I get a look at her face.
“What the fuck happened?” I bark at her with concern. She flinches and I try to soften my voice. “Sorry, it just looks like you’ve been crying.”
She tilts her head at me, opening her mouth to say something, once, twice. “What would you do if someone told you that they think you behave lower class, but that’s OK because you have an immigrant mom so it’s not like you could help it?”
“I’d tell them to get fucked and to keep their distance because the next time I see them I’ll kneecap them,” I say without hesitation.
She gives me a wobbly smile and pats my shoulder. “Thought so.” She turns to walk into the house, not asking any questions about why I needed her here at this time.
“Vi?” She turns back, looking worn out by whatever happened, “take my bed. If I’m back early I’ll crash on the couch.” She raises her brow as if to argue that she’ll take the couch but I cut her off, “Do it, Vi.”
Her brows dip as she scowls, “You’re a bossy asshole sometimes, you know,”
“I know.”
“Good. I didn’t want you out there thinking you were a gentleman or anything.” She deepens the scowl before rolling her eyes and huffing, “Thank you, Jules. Be safe.”
I watch her walk into my bedroom and I linger, for once not wanting to head out. But the Computa’s have finally managed to link some shit together so an emergency meeting has been called.
“Jules! Roll out!” my bastard brother Gus yells out as he climbs into his SUV. Dragging myself from thoughts off the woman in my bed, and Juno in hers, I close the door gently, locking it behind me and head out to meet the rest of our crew.
* * *
“What have we got?” Marx asks, once we’re all assembled at the clubhouse. Because of the hour none of the kids or women are here except Dayz and Remy.
Wire, Remy and Dayz all share a look then Remy taps on her keyboard, sharing their screens onto the big screen.
A photograph of a bleached blonde woman with a tight bun, sharp cheekbones and pumped up lips fills the screen.
“This is Candice Rogers, owner of Happy Values Adoption agency. She is currently in negotiation with 147 prospective families.” Dayz states.
Photographs of cute kids ranging in age from baby to older school age start popping up on the screen.
“These four have all been taken in the last six days from towns within a 3 hour radius from here,” Chewy says, staring at her laptop screen.
We were waiting for this. We knew that children in the South were going missing at an alarming rate over the past six months. Up until now we couldn’t find concrete evidence that it was all linked. No matter how good Tombs Security is, sometimes it helps having contacts with people in the underground. Enter DRMC and Roman Bartashev.
“Happy Values is a private adoption agency that has grown exponentially over the last two years, placing them as the top adoption agency in the South. The only problem being the rumours and accusations that the children aren’t given up, they’re taken. From playgrounds, front yards, malls, even purchased on the dark web. So far we, working with the FBI, have rescued and returned 14 children, but the rate that Happy Values is growing means that they’re going to have to start sourcing more children to sell to desperate couples,” Gus adds.
“I have word of a container coming through the port on Friday. From Mexico.” Roman says, looking bored. I know he’s playing a character, the disinterested Russian. I also know his business runs both legally and illegally through the port, Roman paying them good sums to keep things clean. The last thing he needs is a truckload of kids going through the same routes he uses. Not only is it bad for business, but he draws the line at human trafficking.
“I’m sure there are a shitload of containers coming in from Mexico on Friday,” Savage challenges.
“Da, but a container carrying bell peppers would need to be refrigerated, and this particular one is not.”
Everyone in the clubhouse shares a look.
“What does your contact say?” Marx asks Gus. I’m always happy that Gus takes the lead. I wouldn’t deal well with being interrogated every fucking time we have shit going down.
“They’ve been quiet. Either they know something-”
“Or they’re waiting for us to do their job,” I reply drily.
Tombs Security have been working closely with the FBI for a while now. Usually we’re called in to help transport people saved from trafficking, helping return them to their families. Other times we’ve been called in to track the traffickers and shut down their operations. We have a fuck ton less paperwork to work through, meaning, as long as the FBI are okay with it, we can complete our contracts in any way we please. Our current contract is what has us, DRMC, Bartashev Bratva and Sergeant Moss Davies working together.
“Our personal intel tells us they’ll transport all the kids through Rose Grove, whether they were taken locally or they shipped them in on the container Roman mentioned. Happy Values takes ownership of the kids and rehomes them. Once they’re out of state they’ll be almost impossible to trace, so we need to grab them once they hit town,” Gus says .
“Rehoming? Is that what we’re calling it?” Judge mumbles.
“It sounded less rage inducing than ‘selling’,” Gus answers. “We need to remember that for some of these people, they think they’re adopting through a reputable business.”
“Instead of a greedy bitch who doesn’t give a shit about where these kids come from,” Sniper says, his voice dripping with disdain.
Gus nods in agreement. “Computas, you got anything?”
“Happy Value’s bank accounts are filling up steadily. From what we could hack each couple pays between $30,000 and $60,000,” Wire says, trying hard to keep the growl out of his voice.
“Why such a big range?” Rider asks, looking around the room.
“60 for a baby, 30 for an older kid,” Wire answers, his jaw clenched tight.
A crash sounds out and I snap my head to the left to find Sniper, hands on hips, taking deep breaths.
“You good, brother?” Marx asks.
“No. But I will be,” Sniper answers, pulling himself together before turning back to the screen.
Looking around the room I can see the tension rising. No one wants a shipment of kids coming through our town. Not if we have the means to stop it.
“So, what’s the plan? How does this usually work?” Moss asks. The few interactions I’ve had with him have been intriguing. He’s different to his sister in that he doesn’t come across as such a blunt instrument. Where Violet will tell you exactly what she thinks and feels, Moss covers his thoughts and feelings with his congenial nature. Which makes him more dangerous .
All eyes move to Dayz, who is sitting staring at her screen. She looks up suddenly, seeing everyone’s attention on her.
“Roman, when containers come through port and get loaded onto trucks do they drive straight through after processing or do they usually need to fuel up somewhere?” Dayz asks, head tilted to the side.
The port Roman has a hand in is around an hour outside of Rose Grove. Due to the highway configuration anybody travelling north will go through here. Taking into account that Happy Values headquarters is four hours north of us, that truck and its cargo is set to drive straight through the middle of DRMC territory.
“Trucks driving north stop at The Diner. It’s fast, cheap and preferable to the truck stop outside of town,” Roman’s husband Sasha says, speaking on his behalf.
Dayz nods once, then taps on her computer. “We need trackers on that truck. We will also need people inside The Diner, I want eyes on that driver. We need to know if he’s travelling alone or in a convoy.”
“So, we’re running a sting operation?” Moss asks, looking impressed.
“No. We’re running a ‘take down greedy bitches and save the children operation,” Dayz answers. Rhodie is looking at her like she hung the moon and can’t help himself, he leans over and eats her face off for a few moments before letting her get back to work.
“I hate how her scheming makes you horny,” Tav bitches to our future brother-in-law.
“Don’t care,” Rhodie grins.
“So, we’re just running surveillance?” Savage asks.
“For the meantime. We take this guy down, Happy Values has a new driver within the hour. Our best bet is to track them to where they keep the kids, go in and get all of them out of there. We also need hard evidence to bring Candice Rogers and her whole operation down,” Dayz finishes.
“If this woman is clever enough she’ll be the face of the company and she’ll have employees to do her dirty work. So, why don’t we send someone in? We have a shit ton of couples. Why can’t one of them go undercover or whatever and try and get in from the inside? A two pronged attack,” Savage suggests.
It’s not a bad idea. Everyone exchanges glances. Most of the couples have children already. All except one.
“It can’t be me.” Dayz says bluntly. “No one will ever believe that I’m desperate for a child. Besides, Rhodie has neck and hand tattoos. Candice Rogers isn’t going to give us the time of day.”
“I’ll do it,” a soft voice says, all of us spin to face the mouth of the hall.
“Lovely? I thought you were at home?” Remy asks.
“No, Bee and I are here tonight, I’m doing the early breakfast shift for Mama Debs. Her and Pops are on a date night,” she answers.
“Shit, I wondered why we weren’t being interrupted every three seconds by that grumpy asshole,” Rider says.
Marx blows out a breath, looking to let Lovely down gently. “Lovely, there’s no way we could ask you to do this, it’ll be da-”
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. That could have been Bee’s life if I never got her out of The Keep. I kept her safe and if there’s anything I can do to keep all those other babies safe, I’ll do it,” she interrupts Marx. She’s really come into her own since she’s been out of that god forsaken place.
Marx’s eyes narrow as he clenches his jaw. “Fine. But I’m coming with you.” He turns to Dayz. “Set up a cover story and a meeting.”
Everyone in the common room shares a look. Fox and Nitro exchange cash and I watch as Sasha also slips them a bill and his predictions.
“Right. We have two days before that truck rolls into town. Roman, you and your men will be working the port. Tombs will have our teams on surveillance. Marx, we’ll need the DRMC to be running point the whole time, I’ll leave you to organize the men for that. Davies I’ll need you on standby and keeping the heat off us. You’ll also be our liaison with emergency services should we need them,” Dayz commands.
Davies stares wide eyed at Dayz before grinning, “Bring on Friday.”
Violet
The crunching of gravel jerks me awake and I lie in a daze staring at the unfamiliar ceiling. It takes me a couple of beats to remember that I’m in Jules Tombs’ manly room. The walls are a bland grey color, the bed is a dark grey, the bedding more a gunmetal grey and there is very little furniture to be seen. There is nothing on the walls and no personal photographs are displayed anywhere. The room itself looks more like a hotel suite. It should be impersonal and uncomfortable, but instead I felt at ease, the scent of Jules wraps around me, easing the argument my head keeps having with my heart.
My head saying “fuck Josh!” My heart saying “but I liked him and I’m not getting any younger.” Now I have to start from square one in the dating pool, which is really more of a swamp.
Checking the time on my phone I note that it’s not as late as I thought and I know that I’m not going to go back to sleep anytime soon. I throw the covers off, slip on my Uggs and pad into the kitchen, getting together the stuff I need to make some of mom’s famous hot chocolate. I bought the ingredients that day at the supermarket when Jules freaked out about us leaving the house without notifying him. It’s kinda amazing how far he’s come from that day. I mean, he’s still moody and can be difficult, but we’re friends. I think that’s based on mutual respect and trust. Even if he does forget that I don’t particularly like being barked at.
“Shit, I didn’t wake you, did I?” Jules says, quieting his deep voice.
“Nah. I’d not long been in bed but am having trouble sleeping,” I answer over my shoulder, before looking back at the milk I’m pouring into a saucepan. “Want some?”
He moves to stand a little behind me, peering over my shoulder. I try to hide the shiver it sends down my spine and to my lady parts who not ten minutes ago were lamenting the loss of a judgemental asshole.
“It’s hot chocolate, but Flora’s secret recipe,” I add, breathing in his scent.
“It can’t be secret if you know about it,” he says, moving to lean against the counter beside the cooktop, arms crossed over his chest, and one booted foot over the other.
“She doesn’t know I know. My siblings set a bet that the first one to figure out the recipe gets one favor out of each of the other siblings to be used at any time, with no option to back out.”
“And you figured it out?” His brow raises. I’m not sure if he’s sceptical, or just being Jules.
“Sure did. I hid in a kitchen cupboard with it cracked open just a teensy bit to see what she put in it. Then I recreated it to make sure it was right. So far I have only used one favor.”
His eyes narrow. “You have three siblings and you’ve only used one?”
“Yup. Lily’s. Moss and Jazz still owe me. One day I’ll cash in.” We share a grin and go back to whisking my ingredients in the pan. That’s the key.
“My siblings aren’t as diabolical as yours, but we come close,” Jules says, his lips tugging at the corners.
I give him a bored look and roll my eyes. “Chewy has an honest to goodness alligator as a pet. Her cut also states she’s the Icer for the DRMC. I’m sure you lot are plenty diabolical.” I turn off the heat, give the liquid chocolate concoction one last stir and then pour it into two mugs that Jules has placed on the counter in preparation. I put the pan in the sink and sprinkle a small amount of chilli flakes on the top. “ ?Ahí está! ” I hand him his mug and then turn to make my way to the hardest couch in the world, taking a seat.
Jules follows to sit in the hardest armchair in the world. “How was Juno? Any problems?”
I let the spicy hot chocolate sit in my mouth for a moment, soaking in its warmth before swallowing it down, the heat making me feel relaxed and gooey. “She woke up when your SUV pulled out and then got upset that I was here and not her daddy.” I giggle remembering the face she pulled. “She was pissed . You should have seen her face!”
Jules chuckles and I freeze. I have never heard him make any noises other than growls and barks, so to hear a rusty laugh escape him is something to behold.
“Yeah, I’m sorry to say that she got a little too many of my genes,” he huffs, a small smile tipping his lips up.
“Where is her mom? Shit, sorry, I was doing a Flora. You don’t have to tell me.” I make myself super interested in my mug, trying to avoid eye contact.
Jules is quiet for a moment, but then I hear him whisper, “Fucking open up,” before blowing out a breath. “I don’t know where she is. I found Juno on my porch one afternoon. Her birth certificate had me listed as the father but at that stage I figured Juno belonged to Fox or Nitro.”
My brows pinch as I stare into my cup, trying to understand his words. “Why would you think she was one of theirs? Was the woman one of those sweet butts or something?”
Jules lets out a snort before a mask slips over his face, taking his face back to the blank visage I’m familiar with. “We, ah,” he clears his throat, “I, um, I don’t sleep with women one on one.”
My eyes shoot up to face Jules looking off to the side. “What do you mean? You like tag team them or something?”
“Kind of.” He shifts in his seat and I can’t tell if he’s embarrassed. Does Jules Tombs get embarrassed? “I like group sex. There’s less, um, pressure, to form an actual relationship.”
I nod, processing his words. So he likes orgies. Lots of people like orgies. The Greeks for one. They loved them and seemed to get on just fine. I frown as I repeat what he has just told me. He likes orgies because he doesn’t like the pressure of forming relationships. From what I’ve seen of him he has loads of relationships and gets on just fine. He has Juno and his siblings, Pops and Debs, and all the kids. He’s fiercely protective of them. He’s the same way with the MC. I tilt my head to study him, he’s staring into the kitchen, still looking uncomfortable.
“Is it empty, not having personal relationships with the women you fuck?”
He looks a little startled, before his eyes drift to gaze over my shoulder. “Never really thought about it, its just fucking,” he shrugs. “Do you feel fulfilled when you fuck Josh?”
“Well, I was feeling filled, heh.” He rolls his eyes at my joke but I catch his lips turning up. “But that was before he decided to be an utter cocksucker and insult my family. I should have seen it coming, he was always a little weird about meeting my family. He would sometimes make comments that I wasn’t living up to my potential. I kinda thought it was part of this course thing he was doing to ‘find himself’ and ‘maximise his potential’. I think part of maximising his potential was having a pretty girlfriend.”
“Beautiful.”
“Huh?”
Jules clears his throat. “Beautiful girlfriend.”
“Oh.” I look down at my cup, still half full of hot chocolate. “Thanks. But yeah, anyway, that’s over now. I can’t go out with a man who talks shit about my mom. He doesn’t know what she’s been through to get to where she is today.”
A realization comes over Jules’ face and he sits straighter, stiffer. “He made you cry,” he states, not asks.
I nod, letting out a sigh. “Yeah. And I was so mad at myself because I was so shocked that shy, kind Josh could say something like that, and I couldn’t even react with anything other than shock.” My shoulders slump and I try to flop back against the couch but it’s too freaking hard. It’s like leaning against a wall.
Jules scowls, his whiskey colored eyes boring into mine. “Want me to make him hurt?”
I bark out a laugh, and then quieten down, not wanting to wake little Miss Grumpy Pants. “No, Jules, but thank you. I’m already planning my revenge. But if it goes wrong, I might tag you in.”
He sits staring at me for a moment before giving a stiff nod. “You need anything, let me know. Anything Violet. I’ve got you.”
The air around me feels charged, heavy but not suffocating as we stare at each other. Then I remember I’m the reason he can work all day without interruption. I’m his friend, a trusted person to look after this daughter. That’s all.
I clear my throat, and nod towards his mug, his hot chocolate untouched. “Try your hot chocolate, let me know what you think?” I smirk behind my mug and watch with anticipation running through my veins.
He blinks quickly, as if snapping himself out of a trance, brings the mug to his lips and takes a sip. Then another. Then he takes a large gulp before pulling it back and licking his full lips. “Holy shit! Thank Flora for me. It’s fucking delicious.” I gape at him and he throws me a wink. “We grew up with spicy food. You’ll have to try harder than that,” he smirks.
I narrow my eyes, “Fine. I know you’re not very people-y if you can help it, but one Wednesday you are coming to family dinner. Flora is going to damn well love you.”
He gifts me with a smile I’ve only ever seen him give his daughter and I feel blessed that he chose to send it my way. Blessed and panicky. I’m Joshless for six hours and I’m starting to crush on my asshole-y boss. Although, he’s not really an asshole. He’s just a little lost. And grumpy.
I make a show of stretching and yawning, the hot chocolate having worked its warm, chocolatey goodness on me.
“I should really get home, you don’t need me taking up your bed,” I move to get up when a growl stops me.
“Vi, get back in that bedroom. It’s too late for you to be driving home, and you’re not only tired, but you’ve had an emotional evening. You’ll be shattered.” I open my mouth to protest but he raises his hand, effectively shutting me up. “Please, Violet. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” The blank look on his face drops and his concern shines through.
My instincts tell me to run, that I’m tired and confused and he smells so good and I already love his daughter, but another part of me can see the man that he hides for reasons unknown to me. Hell, they’re probably unknown to him too, so I will give in. This time.
“Alright. Only because you said please,” I say, my eyes narrowed. “And because you’re right, I am really tired.” I rise up and move toward the kitchen, rinsing my mug and placing it in the dishwasher. Once I’m done I walk through the living room, making my way to Jules Tombs’ room. Before I shut the door I look over to the man sitting in the dark, alone.
“Jules?” His head snaps up, his gaze locking onto mine. “Thank you. You’re not as big an asshole as I thought.” I tease, trying to dispel the tension in the room. He raises a brow at me, saying nothing. “Nah, you’re more of a butthead.”
I close the door gently behind me as the sound of his rusty chuckle fills the silence.