Chapter Twenty-Four
Mimic
“King, I presume?” The sheriff sat down in the chair Skinner vacated and reached his hand out to my president.
“It’s nice to meet you, Sheriff.” King turned his head to either side; a signal for us to sit. We put our guns away and righted our tables.
“I assume you are all legally allowed to carry?” the sheriff asked.
Not all of us were. I was just a few months past my twenty-first birthday but had been carrying since I joined the club. The key was not getting caught.
A few of the guys, like Gunner, weren’t legally allowed to carry due to their record.
But again, the key was not getting caught.
In Diamond Creek, it wasn’t an issue. King’s brother Declan, our sheriff, understood Gunner’s time was for protecting a woman, so he turned a blind eye.
However, Freeway had to be careful; Declan wouldn’t hesitate to throw him back in jail.
“Despite the patch on my cut, we are not a one-percenter club; haven’t been for a number of years.” That was all King said. It was clear to the sheriff; King was bullshitting him. It was true. We weren’t a one-percenter club. But that didn’t mean we let the law keep us from getting shit done.
“Not what I asked.”
“Feel free to contact the sheriff in Diamond Creek, Nebraska. He’ll vouch for us. We came here only to stop a war.”
“I’d say you were unsuccessful.”
“Unfortunately,” King said with an exhausted sigh.
None of us said a word. We let King do all the talking. He was the president. He took the risks.
“I’d appreciate it if you all got back home.”
“It’s where we’re headed, Sheriff.”
We all stood as one, and King held his hand out. When the sheriff took it, King thanked him for having our backs.
We loaded up and tore out of the diner. Winchester met us out on the road just over the state line. We all knew it’d been a waste of time, but King had to try.
When we pulled back into the compound, King called church. He stopped me outside. “We need to talk to Indie.”
I nodded. “I’ll get her.”
“No, Gunner went to get her.”
King waited for the rest of the brothers to move inside, and when it was just the two of us, he asked, “What’s the deal?”
“Apparently, she’s my old lady.”
“I never said that. I said she was my enforcer’s old lady. That was for her protection, and I have two of you.”
A growl rumbled up from my chest, and King laughed. “Calm your tits. You plan on claiming her?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, not sure how to answer. “It’s complicated.”
Wasn’t that the fucking truth? She’d wanted me until she found out I was a fucking virgin. I knew most guys stayed away from virgins; worried they’d get clingy. I wasn’t fucking clingy, but I wanted this woman. Not for a fucking night. For every fucking night.
“Well, you better un-fucking-complicate it. She’s their VP’s daughter. There are rules. As far as they know, she’s already been claimed. We can use that to our advantage, provided she goes along with it.”
Would she go along with it? Vulture had been one of the pictures Nav had shown her, but Sting was the only one she’d pointed out.
“Maybe she doesn’t know he’s her father,” I muttered.
“That’s what we need to find out.” He slapped me on the back before moving inside. I followed behind and waited for Gunner to bring Indie into church.
I sat in my seat, stewing, until the door finally opened, and Indie walked in followed by Gunner. She was so fucking sexy in her ripped jeans and tight T-shirt.
Gunner hadn’t let her go back to work unless he was able to go with her. She’d been at the clubhouse since the day Sam had her twins. Despite my opening up to her, I hadn’t gotten any closer to her. It seemed every time I got close, she threw up a roadblock.
The screen at the front of the room turned on, displaying a picture of Vulture. Indie stared at the table after glancing quickly at the screen. She knew who the fuck he was. The question was, why hadn’t she said anything?
“Indie?”
She peeked up at King. I expected fear, tears maybe. I didn’t expect fire and anger. My cock stiffened, biting into my zipper as I watched her glare at King.
“Did you know?” King asked.
Indie sat up straighter, gave King an innocent look, and asked, “Know what?”
King glared at her, waiting for her to answer. When it was clear he wasn’t giving up, Indie’s shoulders slumped, and she nodded.
“I didn’t know he was in a club. I haven’t seen him since I was four years old.”
“How did you know it was him?” Cash asked. “A lot of time has passed.”
“Because you never forget the man who repeatedly raped your mother,” Indie said, her eyes filled with hatred. Maybe Indie and I had more in common than either of us realized.
King sat forward; his hands clasped together on the table. This was his non-threatening stance. It was the one he used to try to put people at ease. I could have told him he was a scary motherfucker and nothing he did would put people at ease. Not once they got to know him.
“He wants you back.”
“I won’t go.”
King smiled, “I’m glad to hear that. Because as far as your father is concerned, you are Mimic’s old lady and under our protection.”
“What?” she whispered. Her eyes jerked to mine before turning back to King.
“I had to tell him something. Your being an old lady was the only option to not turning you over. I won’t let you run. He’d just go after you. But I need to know everything, Indie.”
Indie chewed her bottom lip, and I wondered what she was thinking. When she looked up at King, she asked, “Can I speak to you alone?”
They had been in church for over an hour. Just King, Cash, and Indie. Not even Nav had been allowed to stay, and he’d been instructed to turn the cameras off.
When King finally called the officers back into church, Indie sat at the table, her hands in her lap, and Cash by her side. She was leaning into him as if he were comforting her, and my blood began to boil.
“Get your fucking hands off my old lady,” I growled at my VP. Indie looked up with panic in her eyes, as I glared at Cash. I wanted to punch the smirk off his face as he stood from the chair he was sitting in.
I let him slide by. Choosing to focus on Indie rather than having my sister pissed at me for decking her old man, I sat down next to her and turned her chair.
“What the fuck’s going on?”
She turned her head away, refusing to look at me. I grasped her chin in an effort to force her, but she pulled away.
“Mimic, take your seat, please,” King ordered.
“No.” My eyes never left Indie’s face. She might not want to look at me, but she couldn’t stop me from looking at her.
“Goddammit, Mimic,”
“It’s okay,” Indie whispered.
The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Her voice was sullen, defeated. Like she’d given up fighting. What the hell was she fighting? Me? I fucking hoped she would stop fighting me. I wanted her like I had never wanted anything in my life.
“Indie, would you like to tell them what you told Cash and me? Or would you prefer we told them?”
She took a deep breath and turned her chair away, so she was focused on the table once again. Then she began.
“I was kidnapped from a mall in Arizona when I was four years old. I was taken to a place I didn’t know, to live with people I had never met.
The place I lived in was set up much like dorm rooms. There were a dozen of us.
All between the ages of three and six. I was there for ten years before I was rescued. ”
“Where did you live, Indie?” Gunner asked, his voice rough with emotion. He knew the answer. Hell, I fucking knew the answer. I didn’t want to hear her say it. I silently begged her not to say it.
“The Trick Pony.”
I sat frozen in my seat as I stared at the side of her head. I willed her to look in my direction, but she kept her eyes down, not daring to look at anyone.
Gunner slammed his hands on the table and screamed, “FUCK!”
A single tear slipped down her cheek, and I lifted my hand, catching it with my finger and bringing it to my mouth. I leaned forward. “Your tears are mine. Not theirs. You don’t cry for them. You fucking cry for me.”
She finally turned her head and looked into my eyes. I saw into the depths of her soul, as arousal swirled in her eyes, and I vowed, despite her trying to walk away, she was fucking mine.
Even if I had to force her.
I saw in her someone broken. Someone like me. Maybe we could put each other back together. The way that Cash and Rose had.
They were both broken, swallowed by grief and guilt. They’d made each other whole again. Two shattered people clinging to each other, gluing the cracks back together with love.
Was I capable of love?
Was Indie?
I loved my sister. I loved Sam, and Charlie, and the twins. I loved my mother. I was capable of loving someone who meant something to me. People I wanted to protect.
Indie was one of those people. Was loving her that much different? Was it more? I didn’t think of Indie the way I did my sister, or Sam. It was more. I wanted to devour her. Consume her. I wanted to be a part of her.
I wanted to rip my heart out and give it to her. Take hers and throw it away. Hers had been hurt. Destroyed by those who should have protected her. She wouldn’t need it anymore if she had mine.
And mine was useless without her.
She’d awakened something in me. Something primal, feral. Her piece-of-shit father could go fuck himself. He was never going to get her back.
She was mine, and I was keeping her.
If I had to, I would lock her in a fucking cell downstairs.
“What is your real name, Indie?”
Indie tore her eyes from mine as she focused on King. She shook her head, not wanting to answer. The room was quiet after Indie’s silent refusal. The only sound was the click-clacking of Nav’s fingers on his computer. He’d been typing away since the moment Indie had told us about the Trick Pony.
“Kate Porter.”
Everyone in the room turned toward Nav as he called out a name. Indie’s name. She was the only one who hadn’t looked at him. Instead, she closed her eyes.
“Is she?” Gunner asked, unable to fully ask the question we all had.
Nav nodded solemnly. “She is one of the missing children from the Trick Pony. One of the twelve files I found. Alice Cavanaugh, Briony Roosevelt, Claire Fieldstone, Delilah Lincoln, Everleigh Grant, Faith Washington, Georgia Sawyer, Hannah Underwood, Isabelle Brooks, Jennifer Dawson, Kate Porter, and Leighton Everette.”
“Jenny died,” Indie whispered.
“What?” King asked.
“Jennifer Dawson. She took her life when we were in a foster home.”
“Do you know where the others are?”
Indie shook her head. “Alice, Jenny, and I were put in a home together. After Jenny committed suicide, Alice and I ran away. We separated in Texas.”
“What about the others?” Colt asked.
Indie shrugged. “I don’t know. After we were rescued from the Trick Pony, Magyk dropped us all off in various states.”
“Magyk?” Cash asked, his knuckles turning white from the force of his closed fist. He stood up and went to the door. Pushing it open, he yelled, “KYTTEN! GET YOUR ASS IN HERE!”