Chapter Ten
Spike
The TV screen flickers as Chuck’s smooth, calculated voice fills the room. He looks polished, every word carefully measured to sound sincere. It’s enough to make my blood boil.
“I can’t thank God enough for bringing my family back home,” he says, pausing like he’s choking back some fake emotion. “However, due to this incident, security in the hospital will be increased. How many other women have up and left because of postpartum depression? How many new mothers and children weren’t as lucky as my wife and child?”
He shakes his head, playing the role of the concerned man to perfection. “That’s all the time I have right now. I just want to get my family home.”
The screen cuts back to the anchor, but I don’t hear a damn thing they say. My fists clench at my sides, rage simmering under my skin. Two days ago, she walked through my gate, and I haven’t stopped thinking about her since. The anger hasn’t lessened.
“Why the fuck would she go back to him?” I say through gritted teeth.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Skip says, his eyes glaring daggers at me. “Could be something along the lines of, ‘ Maybe you should’ve stayed where you belonged. At least then the rest of us wouldn’t be stuck risking our lives for someone too selfish to see what’s at stake. ’ But that’s just a guess.”
“Yeah,” Maverick agrees. “You’re a fucking idiot.”
“She wasn’t putting us at risk,” Bones adds. “And you damn well know it. You were just too pissed at the thought of her being near Chuck.”
“We all saw the way you looked at her, Prez,” Tank says. “We saw how protective you were. Hell, we even saw how you were with that baby. We also saw you avoiding her because she messed with your head. You had a great opportunity there, and you blew it.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“It’s for the best,” I lie. “I’ve got too much shit on my shoulders as it is. Riley is back where she belongs. Let’s get to work. The Black Serpents are asking for permission for seven of their men to make a run through our territory. We need to contact their President and see the reason why before I make a decision. Also, I’m sending the men in the basement back to their sector. I’ll deal with this traitor business next week.”
The men look at me clearly wanting to say more, but they won’t.
The sound of a fax coming through breaks the silence.
“I’ll get it,” Skip grunts. “It’s probably for me anyway.”
He’s right. The only faxes that come through are things involving money. That’s Skip’s domain.
“I’ll make contact with the Serpents,” Tank says, breaking the silence. “When are they wanting to come through?”
“Next Friday,” I say, flopping down in my chair.
“Should be fine on our end as long as their reasoning is sound,” he tells me. “By the way, your brother called. Said to tell you that you can’t avoid him forever. He’ll be here next month.”
“Call him and tell him I’m busy all next month,” I demand.
“He wouldn’t listen if I did,” Tank chuckles. “Just as stubborn and hardheaded as his big brother.”
My mind keeps circling back to Riley and the way I tore into her. It’s my fault she went back to that bastard. I was so angry at the thought of her walking straight into the police station, right into his hands, that I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. Every venomous thing I said feels like a weight on my chest.
“You listening, Prez?” Tank’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts.
“No,” I admit, shaking my head. “He hits her. She told us that herself. And she just walks right back into his arms?”
“Spike, you know damn well she didn’t go back to him because she missed him,” Maverick says, his tone calm but firm. “She went back to keep the cops off our doorstep. I’m not saying it was the right call, but her heart was in the right place.”
“She didn’t even give us a chance to help,” I say, frustration lacing every word. “We’ve got someone digging into Chuck’s background, but she bailed before we could get anything useful.”
“Because you pushed her away,” Skip snaps, his anger clear as day. “You couldn’t pull your head out of your ass long enough to hear what she was trying to say before you tore her apart with your words. Of course, she left. Why the hell would she stay after that?”
“Skip, back the fuck off,” I warn, my voice low.
“I don’t think I will, Spike.” He steps closer, glaring at me. “Forget for a second that you clearly felt something for her and her kid, though you were too much of a coward to face it. Let’s focus on how fucking stupid you were with your words. I watched you tear her down, blow by blow. Every time you opened your mouth, I saw the trust in her eyes shatter. And you,” he jabs a finger at my chest, “you let it happen.”
The room falls silent as Skip steps back and tosses a thick folder onto my desk.
“We haven’t gotten anything on Chuck yet,” he says, his voice tight, “but we’ve got plenty on Riley Hayes. It came in about an hour ago. I made it through five pages before I had to stop.”
My stomach knots as I flip open the folder. The first page freezes me in place: a photo of a younger Riley, sitting in a wheelchair, her entire left leg in a cast. Behind her stands Chuck, smiling like the devil himself. A car accident report accompanies the image. It says Riley was severely injured, while Chuck walked away with little more than a few scratches.
Skip’s voice is heavy with disgust. “She downplayed her entire life with that bastard. When I asked her if he hit her, all she did was nod. But it wasn’t just hitting. He’s been abusing her for years. And then you , with your shouting and the vile shit you said, hit her just as hard. I’m ashamed of you, Spike.”
I take the verbal punch and turn the page. A police report stares back at me, detailing a mugging. Photos show Riley with finger-shaped bruises around her throat. I flip to the next page. A medical record of a swollen chin and black eye. The attached police report blames a man Chuck had sent to prison. Another piece of revenge Chuck orchestrated, no doubt.
“He’s covering it all up,” I mutter, the words bitter on my tongue. “Every single thing he does to her, he’s got the power to bury it.”
“Yeah,” Skip says coldly. “Good thing she walked back into his arms, huh?”
He tosses another piece of paper onto my desk.
“One more thing,” he says. “Apparently, Chuck has a damn spy inside the compound.”
My blood runs cold as I grab the paper and start reading aloud.
The monster has eyes inside. I tried to tell you before, but something always got in the way. I don’t know his real name, but I know the name he goes by over there. And I know his face. I won’t mention names here in case I don’t have the right fax number, but it hit me as I was leaving why he looked so familiar. It’s your gate guy. Not the first one. Although, he was a creep. The one with the kind eyes. He’s working for the monster. I’m not sure it’s by choice, though. I overheard the monster telling someone a couple of months ago that if you-know-who didn’t come through, then he’d lose someone close to him.
Please don’t be too hard on him. Thank you for your kindness and generosity. Don’t worry about us. Little Man is safe. I’ll keep my ears to the ground and reach out if I hear anything you need to know.
Always, Your Little (ugh, rolls eyes) Friend.
Skip’s voice cuts through the heavy silence. “You’re gonna fix this, Spike. Not for me, not for the club. For her. And don’t screw it up this time.”
I let the paper fall to my desk, my jaw tight and my mind racing. Riley’s words echo in my head, mingling with Skip’s condemnation.
“What the fuck did I do?” I mutter, the weight of my actions suffocating me.
“A very stupid thing,” Bones says, his voice calm but firm. “But you’ll fix it. First, we need to deal with the problem at hand.”
I take a deep breath, forcing all thoughts of Riley and Asher to the back of my mind… for now.
“Fucking Mike,” I growl.
“Fucking Mike,” Bones echoes grimly.
“Alright, let me think.” I rise from my desk, pacing as I try to get my thoughts in order. “Max, I need you to get eyes on Riley and fucking Chuck.”
Max frowns. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?”
“We need a damn tech guy,” Knuckles says. “None of us are set up for this kind of thing.”
“What about the guy we hired to scrub Bones out of that surveillance footage?” Tank suggests. “Fox or something?”
“Knox,” Skip corrects with a nod. “The Obsidian.”
“He charges a fucking fortune,” Max points out.
“I don’t care how much it costs. Make it happen,” I snap. “When is Mike’s shift over?”
“He’s training one of the prospects on gate duty,” Max replies. “His break is at three, then he’s heading to the roof with the rifle for a couple of hours.”
“Tell him to meet you in the war room to report on the prospect,” I say, the plan forming quickly in my mind. That kind of request wouldn’t raise any suspicion. Max is in charge of the prospects. It’s routine.
Crusher speaks up, his brow furrowed. “I’ll admit, I’m confused. Mike’s been with us for years. There’s no way he’s been a traitor this whole time. What if Riley’s lying? Or what if she’s just wrong?”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Skip says, his signature mischievous smirk returning, tinged with a hint of malice.
***
Mike walks into the war room, and Maverick shuts the door behind him.
“Must be one hell of a prospect to have all the officers here for a report,” Mike says, forcing a smirk. But I can see the nervous energy rolling off him. He’s trying to play it cool and failing miserably.
“Have a seat, Mike,” I say, nodding toward one of the many chairs at the round table.
He hesitates for only a second before lowering himself into the chair. I lean against the wall, arms crossed, waiting.
“What’s going on?” he asks, glancing around the room.
“Do you know who Riley Hayes is?” I ask, cutting straight to the point.
His brows knit together. “Uh… yeah. She was the woman here with the baby, right? Why?”
“I meant before she came here,” I clarify, my voice calm but firm.
His frown deepens. “No.”
“You sure?” Bones interjects, flipping the chair next to him around and straddling it. “Maybe it was during one of your meetings with the Police Commissioner?”
Mike’s eyes widen, panic flashing across his face. “Fuck,” he whispers.
“Yeah, fuck,” I echo. “So, do you want to try that answer again?”
He swallows hard, his gaze darting between us. “I swear, I never met her before she came here,” he insists, holding my stare. “I’ll explain everything. But what does she have to do with Commissioner Chuck?”
I shouldn’t answer him. But Riley’s words, her request not to be too harsh, echo in my head.
“She just had his baby,” I say bluntly. “Now, you’ve been with us for years. You know exactly what we do to traitors. Start talking.”
Mike scrubs a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “Fuck, okay,” he mutters. “Six months ago, my little sister got into trouble and landed herself in prison. A few weeks ago, during a visit, she told me one of the male guards was getting handsy with her. I went through half a dozen people trying to get Brittany transferred or at least get the guard fired. Nothing worked. Finally, I ended up at the Commissioner’s door. At first, he told me he couldn’t do anything. Said the prison wasn’t his domain. Then, a few days later, he calls me out of nowhere and says if I do him a solid, he’ll make sure Brittany’s taken care of.”
“A solid?” I repeat, voice dripping with venom.
“He wanted intel on the club,” Mike admits. “I told him I wasn’t in the inner circle, that I didn’t know shit he’d care about. But that wasn’t good enough. He wanted me to listen. Report back daily on what was happening.”
“The mule run?” I ask, my hand twitching toward my gun. Mike was one of my ten.
Mike’s eyes blaze with anger. “I haven’t told him a fucking thing,” he snaps. “I’ve lied my ass off. Gave him false info just to keep him off my back.”
“What kind of false info?” Bones asks, watching him closely.
Mike smirks.
“I told him that the club was looking to expand into Arizona,” he says. “That we were negotiating a territory split with the Vipers, but tensions were high. I made it sound like we were on the verge of a war.”
Bones raises a brow. “That’s some serious shit to lie about.”
“Exactly,” Mike says. “I figured if I fed him something big enough to keep him distracted, he wouldn’t push for more intel. And it worked. He’s been so focused on tracking some imaginary turf war that he hasn’t asked for anything else.”
I study him, searching for any sign of deceit. If he’s lying, he’s damn good at it.
“You expect us to believe you?” I ask, testing the waters a bit further.
He holds my gaze, unflinching. “I know how this looks, Prez. But I swear on my sister’s life, I never gave him anything real.”
The room is tense, the silence heavy. No one speaks for a long beat. Then Bones exhales sharply, shaking his head.
“So, let me get this straight,” Bones says, his voice almost amused. Almost. “You got tangled up with the Commissioner to save your sister, played him with fake intel, and now we have to clean up your mess?”
Mike winces. “I can fix it.”
“No, we’ll fix it,” I correct. “But first, we need to know exactly how deep this shit goes.”
“I haven’t contacted him in a few days,” Mike admits. “He’s been texting, asking for an update, but I’ve been stalling.”
I nod. “Good. Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna keep feeding him bullshit, but now, you’re doing it under my orders. We’re gonna turn this around and make him chase his own tail.”
Mike’s relief is visible. “I can do that.”
“Damn right, you can,” I say. “But make no mistake, you’re on thin fucking ice. One misstep, and I won’t hesitate to put a bullet between your eyes.”
He nods, swallowing hard. “Understood.”
I push off the wall, glancing at Skip. “Get Knox on the line. We’re gonna need his help. Be sure to pull money from our offshore account to pay him. If Chuck’s watching closely enough, I want to ensure the money trace doesn’t touch the Obsidians.”
Skip nods, already pulling out his phone.
“Mike,” I say, leveling him with a look. “You’re gonna set up a meeting with Chuck. Tell him you’ve got something big, something urgent.”
Mike hesitates. “What do I tell him?”
I smirk, a plan already forming.
“Tell him the Vipers found out we were planning to move in on their turf,” I say. “And they’re fucking pissed.”
Mike’s eyes widen. “You want to make him think a war’s already started?”
I grin. “Exactly.”
Knuckles chuckles. “Shit, this is gonna be fun.”
Mike exhales, nodding. “Alright. I’ll set it up.”
“Good.” I glance around the room. “Everyone, stay sharp. When Chuck takes the bait, we’re breaking into his house and getting my fucking woman back.”
The brothers nod, the energy in the room shifting.
“Hey, Iron Shadow,” a voice, Knox, I’m assuming, comes through Skip’s speaker. The phone sits on the table while Skip focuses on his laptop.
“Obsidian,” Skip greets. “Got a job for you.”
“Aww, did widdle Skippy forget how to turn on his waptop?”
Skip sighs, trying to hide his smirk. “Fucker. I need you to get eyes on Police Commissioner Charles Landry here in Palm Springs and the mother of his child, Riley Hayes.”
“Ooo, a Police Commissioner,” Knox sings. “That one’s gonna cost you.”
“We don’t care,” Skip says, his tone flat. “He’s been abusing her for years. Hit her in the stomach at eight months pregnant and caused her to go into preterm labor. She came to us for help but went back to him out of fear for us. The bastard is out to ruin our club.”
A different voice cuts in from Knox’s side. “Why the fuck would you let her go back?”
“Stop listening in on my conversations, Papa. I mean, husband. I mean, dammit, go away,” Knox snaps. A shuffle of movement follows, then a huff. “Anyway, sorry about that. So, she’s with him now?”
“Yeah,” Skip says, shaking his head. “Tell Taylor I said hey and that he still owes me that beer.”
“Will do. Now, what about the baby?” Skip looks up, a silent question in his eyes. “I’m assuming he’s with Riley,” I answer. “But I can’t say for certain.” “Oh, hey stranger,” Knox’s voice breaks in. “Okay, I have a Riley Hayes living in Palm Springs with her partner, Charles Landry. Uhm, no mention of a baby. Are you sure she had one?” “I’ve got a milk-stained shirt to prove it,” I reply, an uneasy feeling beginning to gnaw at me. “She said Asher was born two days before she came here,” Maverick reminds everyone. “She was here for three days, and now she’s been gone for two.” “So, he was born a week ago,” Skip observes. “Give me a second,” Knox says. “You said his name is Asher? What about his last name. Hayes or Landry?” “We don’t know,” I admit, the frustration rising in my chest. I’m fucking pissed that I don’t know. Silence stretches through the phone line, broken only by the rapid tapping of Knox’s keyboard. “Interesting,” Knox murmurs. “In the past two weeks, sixteen babies have been born, but not one to a Riley Hayes.” A few more clicks follow. “Let me try Riley Landry... Nope.” “What the fuck is going on?” Tank’s voice breaks through the tension. “I’m looking at her medical records as we speak,” Knox responds, his light tone gone, replaced by something more serious. “Here’s what I’m gonna do. Give me a few hours to dig deeper, and I’ll call you back. I already have Charles on my screen. He’s at his office right now. I’ll let you know if anything changes.” “I need your price,” Skip says, already pulling up one of our bank accounts and preparing to transfer the payment. “Pro bono,” Knox says, his voice now devoid of the usual humor. “My payment is simple. You get her and that baby away from that bastard. If she needs a place to stay, let me know. I’ll talk to my president, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” “Not happening,” I growl, my voice low and dangerous. Once I get those two back, I’m never letting them go. “Possessive. Sexy.” “PUP.” “Shit, gotta go. I’ll be in touch.”
The call ends, and the room feels heavier.
“Knox seems... interesting,” Knuckles chuckles.
“I’ve only met him once,” Skip says, grinning. “He’s definitely fun to be around. Almost as crazy as me. But Taylor and I go way back. He used to be a detective, and we crossed paths during one of his assignments. Sexy as sin. It’s a shame he’s married.”
“Focus,” I growl.
“Got the meeting,” Mike says, looking up from his phone. “He can meet with me tomorrow at five.”
“Let’s hope The Obsidian can get back to us with more information before then,” I say, my jaw clenched. “I want to know why Asher’s birth records don’t exist.”