Chapter 19 Silver
SILVER
I spend days covering any tracks Kel’s sudden disappearance could leave behind.
First I buy a one-way bus ticket from Wheaton to Albuquerque with his only credit card.
Then I spend hours on Kel’s phone, crafting the perfect digital trail.
Texts to his friends saying he needs to “lay low for a while” and damning messages to Spencer specifically about deleting the videos and pictures in case anybody catches on.
Emails to his professors about an alleged family emergency.
Even going so far as to break into his house when nobody’s home and pack a bag for his trip.
I pay a junkie around his age who bears a resemblance five hundred bucks. His job is to put on one of Kel’s hoodies, keep his head down, and board the bus to Albuquerque using Kel’s ticket. The security cameras will show somebody who could maybe be Martin “Kel” Greene skipping town.
But even with all these steps I take and more, there’s still one loose end to tie up. Probably the most troublesome, irritating loose end of all.
Ozzie and I sit outside Kel and Spencer’s house at two a.m., engines off, watching the dark windows. We’re both wearing ski masks rolled up like beanies for now. This needs to be quick, violent, and memorable.
“Ready?” I ask.
Ozzie grins. “You really gotta ask? You know I’m always good for handing out an ass whooping.”
We shove our ski masks the rest of the way over our faces and move to the back door. I’ve already figured out how to pick the lock from the last time I was here a few days ago, packing the bag for Kel.
We slip inside silent as shadows, navigating by memory from my previous visit. Spencer’s room is at the end of the hall, the door cracked open.
He’s dead asleep, mouth open, snoring. He’s sleeping like a damn baby.
That’s about to change.
“GET THE FUCK UP!” I bark in my deepest, most intimidating voice.
At the same time he jerks awake, Ozzie snatches him up, tossing him to the floor like he’s not a grown-ass man. He lands in a tumble, disoriented and drowsy, trying to figure out what the fuck is going on. But before he can even really peer up at us, I’m driving my boot into his face.
His nose crunches under the heel, a shriek of pain leaving him.
“What—?” he chokes on his own panicked breath. “I didn’t do nothing!”
My boot connects with his ribs. I don’t hold back, going for a second, third, fourth kick ’til he’s curling up and shielding his head.
“God, please! I don’t even know who you are!”
My boot keeps raining down, doling out more punishment ’til I nod at Ozzie and he drags him half up off the ground. He holds him in a chokehold, keeping him upright despite the aches and pains we’ve already given him.
I whip out my.45, cocking the hammer. The click sounds jarringly loud in the dark, quiet room.
“You went back on your word,” I growl. “You didn’t think I would find out you started talking? Telling people about our little visit?”
“Nah! I swear I didn’t—”
“Shut the fuck up!” I roar at him, backhanding him across the face.
His head snaps to the side like it might break from his neck. Ozzie grips him by the hair and forces his head straight. I press the barrel against his temple.
“You think this is a game?” I ask. “Did you think I was messing around?”
Instead of answering me with words, he answers with a tinkling sound. Piss trickling onto the hardwood floors.
He’s pissed himself, quaking on the ground.
“You fucking piece of shit, am I supposed to feel sorry for you? I don’t!” I continue, digging the barrel into his temple. “We’re watching you. Every moment you’re alive. Every breath you take. We know where you go, who you talk to, where your family lives.”
“Please—”
“Your mother Gina in Fort Worth. Your little brother at UT. Your Nana in that nursing home on Riverside, right?”
He breaks completely, sobbing. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Kel made me tell him! He dragged it out of me. I didn’t want to, but he kept pushing and pushing and now he’s gone and left me with all the rent and—”
“Do I sound like I’m in the fucking mood for your sob stories, Spencer?
” I shout over him, making him wince and choke on his next breath.
“I’m here to make sure you get it. You really understand what’s at stake.
If I find out you’ve been talking again—to anyone, about anything—I’ll kill them all myself. Slowly. Your Nana first.”
“I-I won’t! I swear on my life I won’t say nothing to nobody! Please! I’ll keep my mouth shut!”
“Good.”
I slam the butt of the gun into his face. He drops like a stone, out cold. Blood pools around his head but he’s breathing.
He’ll live once he gets his skull sewed back shut. He’ll just wish he hadn’t, always looking over his shoulder.
Ozzie grabs Spencer’s phone from the nightstand and uses the unconscious asshole’s face to unlock it. I change the passcode and pocket it. Another loose end tied up.
“Let’s go.”
We’re on our bikes two minutes later, starting our engines, about to blast off.
“I don’t usually ask questions when we need to handle business,” Ozzie says. “But why are we terrorizing college kids and threatening grandmothers? Kinda didn’t expect that outta you of all people, Silver.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He shrugs, revs his engine, then takes off. I follow half a second later. We disappear into the night, leaving Spencer broken and terrified behind us.
The message is sent. The trail will go cold. Kel Greene is gone.
And Solana is safe.
The room is dark except for the single spotlight in the center, where I’m seated in a chair. Music pulses from somewhere, low and hypnotic, a bass line that thrums through my body.
Then I see her—a silhouette slinking in the shadows beyond the light. She’s dancing, hips rolling in perfect rhythm, every move sensual and mesmerizing.
She’s engulfed in shadows, her face obscured from view. But her body’s all curves, flowing like water as she glides toward me.
I can’t control how I respond to her. It’s an instant reaction, blood rushing south so fast I’m lightheaded and heat warming my skin up.
Suddenly, I’m deeply aware how much I want this mysterious woman. So much so I’ve never wanted anything more.
It’s beyond attraction—it’s necessity, like breathing. My cock strains against my jeans, achingly hard. I grip the chair’s armrests to keep from reaching for her.
She’s gravitated so close now that she’s only a couple feet away. She sways her hips and steps into the light, gyrating her body in a way that should be illegal.
I tense up watching her, admiring how her copper skin radiates and her plush, pouty red lips beg to be kissed.
Solana.
…of course it’s Solana.
She slides into my lap, straddling me and looping her arms around my neck. I have to bite back a groan as her weight settles on me and she starts circling her hips right above my dick.
She grinds against me while holding my gaze, hers dark and sinful.
Begging me to give in. Tempting me like no man has been tempted before.
“I know you want me,” she purrs, gyrating her hips, creating friction between us. Her pussy against my dick, even with the layers of clothing between us. “Just give in, Silver. Stop fighting it.”
I swallow tightly, my breathing deepening as I try to shake my head.
But she only smirks then leans forward, running her tongue across the seam of my lips. And this time, I can’t keep it in. I can’t hold back the groan that rumbles from my chest as her hand reaches between us and she grabs my—
I jerk awake to my phone buzzing beside me on the living room end table. I’m disoriented but erect, slouched on my couch in yesterday’s clothes.
It takes me another second to remember I’d sat down to watch some late-night TV once me and Ozzie got home from dealing with Spencer. Somewhere along the line, I must’ve dozed off.
There’s a crick in my neck as I sit up straighter and reach for my phone like I’m not hard as hell right now.
I’m half expecting to see Solana’s name on the screen. The name I do see brings a pulse of disappointment along with it. I can’t say I’m in the mood for more sparring with my ex-wife.
“Yeah?” I answer, skipping the hello.
“Can you take the kids for Spring Break?” she asks, equally as blunt. “Fred and I have plans.”
“Plans. Right.” I stand up, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Let me guess—Vegas? Cabo? Somewhere romantic while I play babysitter?”
“They are your children, Jack. Not babysitting when it’s your own kids.”
“Funny how you only remember that when it’s convenient for you. When you want to run off with Fred. But when I want to take Jack to the arcade on a random Tuesday, suddenly we need to stick to the custody schedule.”
“You always do this,” she snaps. “Always make me the bad guy. The bitter ex-wife who won’t let you see your kids.”
“You do that well enough on your own, Rachel.”
Silence follows for half a beat, then her voice goes totally cold. “You know what? Forget it. Tabby’s old enough to watch Jack for a few days. I’ll have Solana check in on them.”
The mention of Solana’s name sends an unwanted jolt through me. “Rachel, wait. I’ll take—”
“Thanks for nothing, Jack. As usual.”
She hangs up before I can respond. I toss my phone onto the couch and heave a deep sigh.
It’s barely nine a.m. and I’m already exhausted. Between the Spencer situation, dreams about Solana that leave me aching and guilty, the club situation with Tom, and Rachel’s bullshit, I’m running on empty.
I’ll circle back to Rachel later and let her know I’ll take the kids. I’ll let her run off on her mini vacation so she can go fuck her boyfriend 24/7.
But first I’ve got other business to handle.
The clubhouse is more or less empty when I show up. I go straight to the office expecting to find Tom alone. Instead I walk into the middle of a meeting where he’s holding court like some kind of king.