Chapter Thirty-Two
Indie
I woke up wrapped in Mimic’s arms. We spent the day in bed as Mimic explored my body.
King had called wanting to know how I was, and Mimic told him to give us a day.
That was yesterday. Today we had to get up and go back to the real world, where Mimic was secretly in two MCs and I was a trained assassin.
How is this my life?
I tried to wiggle out of bed, but his arms tightened, preventing my escape. “Where the fuck are you going?”
“I need to take a shower. We need to talk to King and the others today, and I am not walking into church with dried cum all over me.”
“If you wash it off, I’ll have to add more.”
“Tonight, you can. But I am not walking around the clubhouse smelling like sex.”
“Fine,” he grumbled as he rolled out of bed and followed me into the bathroom.
“What are you doing?”
“You said we couldn’t walk around the clubhouse smelling like sex. So we have to take a shower.”
“You’re not getting in here with me.” I laughed. The audacity of this man!
“Why not?”
He was so cute when he pouted. “Because I have to actually get cleaned. And if you come in there with me, I’ll end up with more cum on me.”
“But the water will rinse it off.” His smile did me in. I truly had created a monster. The man was insatiable. “Get in the fucking shower,” he growled and slapped my ass.
By the time we were done, someone was banging on the door. I hid in the bathroom while Mimic opened the door in nothing but a towel.
“You had your fucking day, now get dressed and get your asses in church.”
“Asshole,” Mimic grumbled as he closed the door.
“Was that Gunner?”
“Yeah.”
Mimic turned around and leaned back against the door. He rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip as he stared at me. “This won’t do.”
“What?” I asked, looking at the panties in my hand. I guessed I could go without. I glanced at the clothes on the bed—the same ones I had worn after my hypnosis yesterday.
“You’re too fucking clean.”
I threw my head back and laughed as Mimic stalked across the room and threw me on the bed. He pulled the towel off and tossed it on the floor.
“We need to go downstairs, and I need to stop at my room and get clothes.”
“After,” he murmured into my neck as he kissed and nipped at my skin. My eyes closed, and I wanted nothing more than to stay locked in our bubble. But we couldn’t.
“Mimic.” I tried to sound firm, and when he lifted his head, the disappointment on his face told me it worked.
“I fucking hate my brothers right now.”
He backed away and dropped his towel. As I bit my lip while I studied his perfect ass, I thought the same thing. Shaking my head, I said, “No, you don’t. And besides, this will help me find my sisters.”
I watched him pull up his boxers and mourned the disappearance of my view. Once he was fully dressed and I had on the clothes I wore yesterday, we stopped at my room so I could dress in clean clothes. I had to fight him off again, but he did talk me into a quick blowjob.
What can I say? I’m a whore. But now I’m his whore.
King allowed us to eat breakfast before pulling us into church. Gunner continued to glare at Mimic until I glared back at him. The angry look on his face didn’t change, but at least he was no longer aiming it in our direction.
Jack walked behind us and set a white box on the table next to Mimic. “Thanks, Jack.”
“What the fuck is that?” Gunner asked. “We didn’t take a vote.”
King sighed and looked at his sergeant at arms. “Vote or not, I declared her his old lady in front of her father. At the very least, she has to wear it until the war is over.”
“She’s never taking it off,” Mimic said as he opened the box.
“What is it?” I asked, my mouth hanging open as he lifted the leather cut from the box. On the front was my name, the one I chose.
Indigo.
On the back it said, ‘Property of Mimic.’
“Is that mine?”
“I told you, you’re mine.”
Mimic helped me put it on, and I ran my hands over the soft leather. Tears filled my eyes, but I blinked them away. I wasn’t going to make a scene. I was a fucking assassin, for crying out loud! Despite only finding out less than forty-eight hours ago.
I smiled at Mimic, and he kissed me. I never had a childhood.
I never went to school dances, like prom and homecoming.
So, I’d never experienced that schoolgirl crush, or being asked to be someone’s girlfriend.
And while Mimic hadn’t technically asked me to be his old lady, he put this cut on me, letting everyone know that was exactly who I was.
“How are you feeling, Indie?” King asked. “After everything.”
A moment of panic filled me until Mimic leaned over and whispered, “He means the memories.”
“Oh, those. It’s a lot.” I dipped my eyes, focusing on my hands. “I’ve kind of been ignoring them.”
“I’ll bet.” Jack laughed. “Locked up in a room with Mimic all day, I don’t imagine much thinking was happening at all.”
A few of the brothers snickered, but Gunner growled.
“What is your problem?” I asked him.
“Nothing,” he mumbled.
“Ignore him, Indie.” I turned at Haizley’s voice as she sat beside me. “Sorry I’m late.” She smacked Gunner’s arm. “Be nice.”
He returned a grunt and looked away.
I knew he was angry with me. I’d lied. I needed to apologize to him. In private after the meeting.
“Indie, what can you tell us?”
I turned my attention to King, ignoring Gunner for the time being. I wasn’t sure how much to confess. I looked at Mimic, his hand covering mine. “I’m right here.”
“The training started early. Not as soon as we got there, but not long after, I think it was less than a year. We were taught to fight, to kill. We were taught recon, all our schooling—everything was during those classes.”
“Why didn’t you answer when Jack asked you a question?” Colt asked.
“We weren’t allowed to speak. If we spoke, we were punished.” And it was brutal. So we stayed quiet. No matter what happened, our voice stayed locked inside our minds.
“Guns?” Cash asked.
I nodded. “Guns, knives, household objects. They left nothing to chance.” Tears filled my eyes as I let the memories wash over me.
“Indie,” Haizley said softly. “What is it, honey?”
I couldn’t look up. I kept my eyes focused on my hands as I twisted my fingers and bit my lip.
“Indie, it wasn’t your fault. Whatever you did, you had no control over.”
I looked up at her. I knew she was right, but it didn’t matter. I was still responsible. “I killed people.”
“We expected that, Indie,” King tried to reassure me, but I shook my head.
“You don’t understand. Innocent people. There were men and women, yes. Men who had been awful to us, they had paid to have sex with us, but they were awful. They must have done something to piss off Devlin, because he let us practice on them. Women too.”
I took a deep breath. “But there were children. Girls the same age as us. He pitted us against each other. And only one was expected to survive.”
“Fuck.”
“That sick son of a bitch.”
“Too bad he’s already dead.” That came from Jingles, the other enforcer. Like Mimic, it was his job to interrogate people. His face showed anger, but there was something in his eyes that said he was good at what he did, and he enjoyed it.
“Indie, this wasn’t your fault. You were being controlled. You had no choice but to defend yourself.” Haizley’s soft, calm voice was helpful, but it didn’t erase what I had done.
“I know. But that doesn’t make it any easier. I wonder if somehow Jenny remembered.”
“What do you mean?”
“She killed herself. I wonder if she remembered somehow. Then again, maybe remembering what they did when we were awake was too much.”
“So what do we do now?” Blade asked.
“We need to talk to Sypher. He was the one who gave Magyk the new names for the girls. We need those names,” Cash said.
“Magyk said they all ran. Like Alice and me. If they changed their names too...”
“Maybe, but it gives us a starting point. If we know where they were dropped off and what name they used last, it gives Nav something to look for.”
“I found Alice,” Nav said.
“What? Where is she?” I sat up straighter.
“Oklahoma. She’s a club girl for the Diamondback MC.”
“That’s Kansas Stone’s MC,” Cash said.
I felt Mimic stiffen beside me. Kansas was Dakota’s brother. The youngest of the four boys. I held Mimic’s hand tightly in mine.
“Would you like to see Alice, Indie? There is some shit going on down there, but the Diamondbacks are allies. We can make it happen.”
I looked at Mimic. He’d never let me go alone, and I wasn’t sure he could be around a Stone.
Not after what he told me. Sure, Kansas wasn’t the one who had hurt him and held him captive for years.
But he was still a Stone. In Mimic’s eyes, he was guilty by association, and I couldn’t risk him causing a war between allies, not when there was already a war we might need their help with.
“No.”
Mimic snapped his eyes to mine. I shook my head. “No. Maybe someday. But not right now.” I looked at Nav. “Is she safe?”
“Safe is subjective. She’s gotten herself into some trouble, but I don’t think she’s in any danger.”
“But if someone from the Trick Pony finds her... if they know what she is, she won’t be safe.” Someone had to protect her. Alice was different from the rest of us; she would embrace this role, not shy away from it.
“Devlin Scott and his son are both dead, Indie. They can’t hurt any of you anymore,” Colt said.
“There were others. George Stone...”
Mimic squeezed my hand.
“George Stone is also dead. We have the files, Indie. We know everyone we need to look out for.”
“You don’t, King. You can’t possibly know them all. Devlin may have kept records, but was George Stone’s name in those records? Was Dakota’s?”
Mimic squeezed my hand again. I didn’t turn my head. I wouldn’t look at him and give away his secret; he had to know he could trust me.
“What about Tyran Fitzpatrick? Is his name in there? Sylvia St. James? Jane Craven? Gary Hughes? There are countless people that Devlin was close to, people who were never recorded.”
“You know Tyran Fitzpatrick?” King growled, slamming his fist on the table.
I sank back into my chair. “N-no.”
“King, it’s not her fault.”
“I know.” He ran his hands over his face. “Indie, I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you. You are fucking innocent.”
King stood up and paced the front of the room. No one spoke; no one looked at him except me and Haizley. Her brows furrowed as she watched him. Not with confusion, but with concern.
“This is a goddamn clusterfuck, and if I ever get my hands on that son of a bitch.”
“You have to call Sal, King.”
“FUCK!” King punched the wall, and I jumped in my seat. Mimic wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close.
“You don’t have to be afraid of King,” he whispered.
“I’m not. Not really.” I smiled, hoping he bought the lie. A person would have to be a fool not to be afraid of Kingston O’Rourke. He worked hard to come across as a level-headed president. But I could see the rage simmering below the surface.
Even with all the training I now remembered, I wasn’t sure even I could go up against the man and come out alive.