Chapter Seven
Koyn
I stand inside the open truck door with my hands on the top of the frame as I lean in to talk to Dragon and Copper, my cigarette dangling from my lips. Bermuda took the girl to the restroom. He looks the most like a good ol’ boy. Dragon and I stand out as possible psychopathic kidnappers to the normal public. Definitely a good idea Bermuda took lead on this stop.
“Anything yet?” I ask my brother, nodding at his phone as he scrolls. I blow out a plume of smoke over the top of his truck and then flick my cigarette across the truck into the gravel.
“Nah. When we get back, I’ll get on the computer and run through all my channels. Putnam is off the grid.” Copper scrubs at his face with his palm.
“I’ll stay on Junior’s social media and check to see if I can pick up any clues there,” Dragon offers. “Putnam was a ghost, but we found him. We’ll find him again.”
I glance over at the McDonald’s and wonder what the fuck is taking them so long. If she tried to run off, I’m going to make good on my promise to whip her ass.
“What about Hadley? Anything on her?” I arch a brow at my brother.
“Without a last name, it’s difficult. I’ll run a search on all the missing person reports with that name, but you’d probably get further than me on this.”
I’ll find out where this little girl came from and send her back, even if I have to spank the answers out of her. I’ve done a lot worse in my lifetime. This is a cakewalk.
As though I have a sixth sense, I feel Hadley when she exits the restaurant. Bermuda is beside her, grinning. He may be wearing a leather cut, but his worn baseball cap, holey jeans, and shit kickers make him look like the Oklahoma boy next door. In an alternate reality, those two could be siblings maybe. I track her with just my gaze, watching her every moment.
The dart of her eyes to the tree line past the parking lot.
The fake smile.
The tensing of her muscles.
The slowing in her gait.
“Fuck,” I grumble. “She’s gonna run.”
I no sooner get the words out of my mouth when she takes off. The girl is tall and skinny, her long legs eating up the distance before Bermuda even realizes she bolted. Without another word, I tear off after her. I may be a lot older than her, but I’m not some fat-ass biker. I’m in shape and I can catch a little runaway like it ain’t shit.
Her brown hair billows out behind her as she seems to fly with inhuman speed. My boots kick up gravel behind me on my chase. I can hear Gibson and Bizzy laughing while Dragon catcalls me. Fucking bastards.
Hadley never makes it to the tree line.
I snag her by her hair, jerking her to a stop. She screeches, but I don’t relent. I drag her flailing body to my chest and bring my mouth to her ear. Her chest rises and falls with each ragged pant of breath.
“Stupid, child.”
“I’m not a child.”
“You are.”
“I hate you.”
I laugh, twisting my grip in her hair so my knuckles are against her scalp. “Fucking hate me. I don’t give a shit. You’re mine to look after and I told you running away wasn’t going to work for me, goddammit.”
“I’m not yours,” she says fiercely, emotion in her voice. “I’m no one’s. You made sure of that when you killed Junior.”
Here we go again.
I’m tired of hearing about that dumbass punk.
“You’re going to stop this shit right now. We’re going to hold hands like you’re my fucking girl and then we’re going to leave. You fight me on this and I’ll make your life miserable when we get back. Feel me?”
Her body trembles. “I won’t be your slave.”
I roll my eyes. Girl watches too many fucking movies. “You will if I demand it.”
My threat has its intended effect because she submits. Good girl. Her body relaxes as she mutters out an “okay.”
Releasing her hair, I grab her shoulders and twist her to face me. Her eyes are watery but no tears have fallen. In the sunlight, she has a few visible freckles on her nose and cheeks. It’s cute. Dark lashes bat against her apple cheeks and her plump lips are pursed together in a pout.
Blaire.
My sweet Blaire.
I’m struck by how similar they are. Dark brown eyes. Pale skin. Pert nose. My palms cradle her sweet face and I lean in so I can memorize every detail.
“W-What are you doing?” she whispers.
“Lookin’ at you, kid.”
“Why?”
“I like what I see.”
“You trying to make me your old lady?”
Her words jar me from my selfish little fantasy of where she’s Blaire and I’m her daddy and all is fucking safe and right in the world.
“What?” I hiss. “Fuck no.”
My words seem to wound her because she flinches. “Oh.”
The moment is gone. I don’t see Blaire. Hadley’s eyebrows are different. One brow is naturally arched in a way that seems as though she’s always giving you a challenging look. Her lips are redder, fuller—the focal point on her face. Even the shape of her face is longer whereas Blaire’s was rounder. Hadley has a harder edge to her—a more womanly aspect that my baby girl never had. Blaire was innocent.
Hadley is not innocent.
I clear my throat and step away. My thumb brushes along her soft cheek before I release her. Her brows furrow together as she studies me. I take her hand and thread it with mine.
“Smile and try to act as though we belong together,” I grumble.
She lets out an annoyed huff. “I took drama. I know how to act. In fact, that’s how I won Miss—oh. Doesn’t matter where. I won.”
This girl is slick.
“You were a pageant girl?”
“Junior and them called me Beauty Queen,” she says in a regal tone before flinching. “You can call me Hadley.”
“Pageant Girl fits you better than Beauty Queen.”
“It makes me sound like I’m a kid.”
“You are a kid.”
“You’re an asshole.”
I smirk and shrug. “Takes one to know one, PG.”
“Ugh,” she groans. “Don’t call me that.”
“Too late,” I say, letting go of her hand to swat her ass. I address my group of grinning brothers. “PG is ready to play nice now.”
“PG?” Gibson asks, scratching at his beard.
“Pageant Girl.”
Dragon whistles, half hanging out of Copper’s truck. “You gonna put on a show for us, PG?”
She puts her hand on her hip, cocking it out to the side, her eyes flaring with attitude. “You couldn’t handle my show.”
“Prez,” he argues. “I can handle the girl. Tell her. Let me handle it. Please let me handle it.”
I shake my head. “You’re not touching her.” Then I pin her with a narrowed stare. “And you won’t be showing these guys anything.”
She shoots a challenging glare my way. “We’ll see, Daddy .”
I grit my teeth, staring after her.
“Oh, fuck,” Filter groans. “We’re in trouble with this little shit.”
“I’ll keep her in line,” I grind out. “You let me worry about her.”
“All yours, Prez. All fucking yours.”
Satisfaction slides through my veins.
Until we find her real daddy, she is mine.
Clouds darken the sky, warning of nasty storms, but I’m not worried. We’re pulling up to my compound and soon we’ll be safe from the rain. The drive up my gravel road is long. I love being nestled in the woods away from everyone. One day, it’s our hope to grow our chapter to fifty or sixty good, loyal brothers. Right now, there are ten of us. Not many compared to others like Animal’s chapter. But that’s okay. When I took on this gig, it was because I had a plan. I wanted nothing but loyalty, even if I had to breed it myself. Never again would I be caught with my pants down. I’m always prepared, and my brothers have my back, even if some of them can be total shitheads.
When I built my massive home, I did so considering the future of my MC. It’s built much like a hotel—plenty of suite-like bedrooms and lots of gathering rooms. We drink and cause a ruckus like the rest of the bikers out there, but we do so in style. Our beer is craft and local, none of this cheap QuikTrip shit. The place smells like motherfucking oranges thanks to Stormy’s wickless candle crap she spreads around the house. And we have a pool. Whenever we visit the other clubhouses, I see it in my guys’ eyes. They’re fuckin’ snobs just like me. I’ve given them a silver spoon and they won’t eat with anything else. The MC gives them a brotherhood, and I give them everything else.
I pull Dragon’s hog into the garage beside mine and then shut off the engine. The sound is deafening, echoing off the concrete as all the guys pull in around me. I pat Hadley’s thigh, indicating for her to get off the bike. Once she’s standing beside me, I climb off and then grab her wrist.
“I’ll show you to your room where you’ll stay until we find your dad,” I grunt over the loud sounds of motors running.
She follows me inside. There’s a pep in her step that instills an inkling of satisfaction inside me. I’m sure a place like this is much different than what she was used to. Putnam’s clubhouse reeked of piss and stale old biker balls. We did the state of Arkansas a service by burning that shit to the ground.
“You’re back—oh!” Stormy rounds the corner, her tits all but spilling out of her top, with a shocked look on her face. “Who’s this?”
“Hadley, meet Stormy. She’s the cook.”
I smirk when Stormy’s lip curls up and her eyes flare with anger. “I’m Filter’s girlfriend,” she bites out. “And you’re…”
“Just Hadley.”
I shrug off Stormy’s confused look and then set to showing Hadley all the rooms in the house. It smells like motherfucking apple pie today and fuck if that doesn’t make me smile. This home is my sanctuary. My fucking peace in a violent and emotionally painful life I’ve been forced to live for the last decade.
At the end of the hall between my room and Filter’s is an empty room. It’s smaller than the others but has a great view of Keystone Lake. Stormy didn’t want it because she wanted to shack up with Filter. I think she just wanted more room for all her clothes and makeup and shit.
“This is you,” I say, rapping my knuckles on the open door.
“Until when?”
I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the doorframe. “That’s up to you, little girl. You could help me out here.”
Her eyes narrow.
“Or,” I grunt, “you could continue to be a stubborn bitch. Just know the only person you’re punishing is yourself.” I smirk at her. “I’m well versed in dealing with a teenage brat. You, on the other hand, look as though you haven’t been daddied properly in quite some time.”
With a hateful glare, she stomps past me and slams the bedroom door in my face. My palm itches to waltz right in there after her and spank her disobedient ass. I’ll have that girl straightened out in a week.
“I don’t tolerate disrespect around here,” I growl through the door. “That’s your one and only warning. You pull that shit again and I’ll take my belt to you.”
Silence.
Good. She heard me loud and clear.
I leave the girl be and go find Payne. He’s in his room, taking apart his Glock.
“You headed to the gate?”
Sure, we have cameras and security, but Payne likes to stay on the gate as often as possible just in case. He’s a paranoid motherfucker.
“Unless you need me around here,” he grunts.
“I do.”
He frowns, his brows curling together in a villainous way. “Yeah, Prez. Whatdya need?”
“The girl. Hadley. I can’t fucking babysit her while I deal with Putnam shit. As soon as we can return her, we will. In the interim, I need someone to shadow her.”
His face sours. “Bermuda? Bizzy?”
“She’ll walk all over Bermuda. And Bizzy is ADD as fuck. I need someone…less obvious. Someone she won’t interact with. I need you.”
He squares his shoulders and runs his palm over his buzzed head. “I can do that. I won’t take no shit talkin’ from her, though. You know that.”
“I already warned her. If she gets too mouthy, come find me. I’ll deal with it. You don’t have to take that shit, but I also don’t want you punishing her. This girl is barely eighteen, man. A runaway. Not some club whore like Stormy or her dumbass slut sister she brings around here sometimes. Just let me deal with it.”
“On it.” He cracks his neck. “Who’ll watch the gate? With Putnam slipping through our fingers, we need to be on high alert. I doubt he’s ballsy enough to come here, but you did gut his kid.”
“Nees is still on my shit list. I’ll send him out there with Katana. We’ll have our guard up. While they play defense, I’m going to find where the fuck Putnam has gone to.”
He clasps my shoulder and nods. “Ten years, Prez. We got your back. We always do. Everything’s finally coming to a head. And the moment we end that fucker, maybe you can retire.”
“Retire. I don’t think guys like us ever do.”
I find Dragon, Copper, and Halo all sitting in our boardroom with their laptops open. When I owned my own company, the guys who worked for me were geeks. Polos and khakis and twitchy awkward types. Now, they wear leather and have tattoos and cuss a lot.
“This bitch likes beating on women,” Copper says, shaking his head. “What a fucking pussy.”
“His son was a wannabe,” Dragon chimes in. “There’s a goldmine of shit on Junior.”
I sit in a chair and roll around to where Dragon is. “Hadley? She was his girlfriend. What do you find on her?”
“Nothing yet. From the looks of it, some bitch named Juicy was all over Junior. Not sure why he’d fuck that when he had PG, but it’s evident he did. She’s still a mystery.”
“Anything on the missing person reports?” I ask my brother.
“Nope. Either she gave you a fake name or one hasn’t been filed for a Hadley.”
Of course not. That’d be too easy.
“What about you, Halo?”
Halo leans back in his chair and it creaks against his solid, muscular frame. “Still hunting down my leads from before. I smell something big. Give me time to sniff it out.”
I give him a nod. “Dragon, cull through Junior’s friend list. If Hadley really was his girlfriend, she’ll be on there. Check profiles with no pictures or anything remotely vague. We’ll narrow down from there.”
“Narrow down by…” he implores.
I flash a wicked grin at him. “I have my ways.”
My ways involve diving into the code to isolate their IP addresses. Shit only I can do. I don’t have time to go through his three hundred friends on his list, but if they can get me twenty or so to work with, my hunt will be easier.
“Yo, Prez,” Gibson says, stepping in the doorway. “Got a call from my brother. He’s got brisket going. We still on for a Q tonight?”
Our monthly Qs—short for barbeque—are something I both hate and love in equal parts. It’s nice to kick back, drink a little, shoot the shit with my guys’ friends and family, but it also fucking hurts because my family is gone. I tend to get a little too fucked up sometimes and Copper has to drag my blubbering ass to my room before I do something stupid like cry.
“Yeah. Round up Hadley and make her help Stormy. I don’t trust Hadley on a grocery run, but when you guys get back, get her out of her room, even if you have to drag her.”
Gibson laughs. “You got it, man.”
Unlike Payne, Gibson won’t hurt her. Maybe try to serenade the bitch or some shit, but not hurt. Gibson, when not being a dumbass with Bizzy, is our entertainment in the literal sense. He can sing and play anything on his guitars. His room is full of them, both electric and acoustic. Some cost more than cars. I know this shit because it’s all he talks about some days. I’m pretty sure if he could figure out how to put wheels on his custom PRS, he’d ride that fucker around town, strumming it like it’s some sort of special pussy he has to play.
“We’ll continue this shit tomorrow,” I tell my guys. “Tonight, let’s celebrate the fact we killed everyone Putnam knows and cares about.”