Royal Sons MC

Chapter Two

Ayesha tried to swallow. Her mouth and throat felt like she’d been in the desert for days without water. “I...it wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own for getting in here. I followed Chloe in and told the guys I was with her.”

“They both know better than to just let anyone roll into the club grounds without verifying they were invited, no matter how fuckable they look.”

“This is stupid. My sister could be getting beaten or raped, or worse, while you’re worried about how I got into your precious backwoods club. Just let me go so I can find someone else willing to help me find her,” she cried, uncaring that tears flowed from her eyes.

“Newsflash, princess, your sister has probably already been raped,” Duke said.

“Shut the fuck up, Duke.” King stepped toward the other man, shoving him out the door. “Find the answers I want, asshole. Come back here after you have something to tell me that I want to hear.”

Duke laughed but didn’t say another word.

“I’m well aware of what could’ve already happened, but I’m holding out hope that the guy she went with likes her enough that he’s kept her safe. Or at least kept her with him until...well, until he’s tired of her. God, how did I come to this?” She sank down on the closest surface she came to, the surprisingly soft, comfy chair enveloping her.

King squatted down in front of her. “Listen to me, Little Dove, I don’t know where you got your information, but coming to the Royal Sons clubhouse and announcing shit like that can get you dead and a lot of people hurt or killed. So, let’s start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”

The way he looked at her. The way he dipped his voice made her want to spill every secret she possessed, even the ones she’d never told anyone. “I overheard a client talking about these men who worked around the FBI but not with them. These were guys who didn’t have to follow the law but could go in and out of places without waiting for proper channels. My sister has been considered a runaway, but I promise she’s not. I mean, yeah, she left of her own volition, but she wouldn’t have just up and gone unless she thought she could come back. Rico isn’t who he pretended to be. He’s not some eighteen-year-old kid with a rich family with a yacht on the ocean just waiting for them to come party it up. Yes, he’s a rich guy, but his family are drug dealers who deal in prostitution and human trafficking. They’ve been investigated for the disappearance of several young girls, girls they met online and promised all kinds of things, but it”s like...bam, those girls are all of a sudden runaways. However, Rico, or one of his many cousins, always have solid alibis for when the girls have gone missing.”

She swiped at the tracks of tears flowing down her cheeks. Her sister had met the little bastard on Instagram, where he’d started messaging her. The next thing she knew, they were meeting behind her back. Ayesha had never approved of her sixteen-year-old sister seeing a nineteen-year-old boy, or she’d have looked into him and his family. She’d have found out the fucker wasn’t nineteen but twenty-four, who was way too old for Tiana. The account he’d used had been deactivated as if it had never been. When questioned, he”d sworn the pictures her sister and Rico had exchanged had been “hijacked” from his real account. Of course, he’d reported it. He’d claimed the same thing had happened numerous other times. She didn”t believe him. He was too smooth, too creepy. He was a liar.

How the police or the FBI hadn’t caught on to the MO of all the times he and his family members had done the same thing countless times before amazed her. By her count, over twelve girls aged sixteen to twenty had recently disappeared up and down California”s coast. Ayesha only put in her sister”s features and was sure the number would rise if they widened the search with other missing girls” criteria. She didn’t tell King all of that, not wanting to see the disbelief on his face. The same skepticism on the detectives” faces when she’d spoken to them at the precinct, even when she’d shown them the evidence.

Obviously, Rico’s family either had friends on the payroll. There was no way they”d bought the story he was selling. Ayesha, on the other hand, knew better. Her sister, while young and impulsive, and yes, if she were being honest, was wilder than all get out. She would probably make Ayesha’s hair turn grey sooner than she’d like, but no matter what her little sister did, she’d always be her baby sister, and Ayesha would always, always protect her.

“I have no doubt you love your sister and are worried.” King held up a hand, stopping her protest. “However, barging onto private property thinking we’re some modern-day vigilantes isn’t the way to get her back. You need to take your sexy little ass back out to your soccer mom”s car and file a report. Your sister’s sixteen. Once a certain amount of time has passed, they’ll file a report and search for her.” King stood up.

She didn’t protest, seeing the resolve in his rugged face. God, she’d been stupid to come out to a place she knew nothing about on the word of Chloe, a woman who was clearly not as in the know as she’d thought. Shit, thinking of the trouble her client might get into, she opened her mouth to deflect, then thought better of it. Maybe King would forget her earlier outburst about who she’d followed or think it had just been a coincidence. Whatever the reason, she was sure she’d lost a client. “I’ll be on my way and won’t bother you again.” Dread settled in her stomach, her last hope for saving her sister gone. No, she wouldn’t give up, not now, not ever.

“Duke’s outside with your car. I’ll be seeing you.” King tilted his head toward the door as heavy steps pounded up the wood planks.

Two hard knocks heralded the arrival of the VP. “She ready to go?” Even though Ayesha was closer, Duke’s gaze bounced to King’s first. She realized he wouldn’t glance at her unless his brother gave him some silent indication. It would’ve disturbed her, except she felt comforted on a level she wasn’t ready to define just yet.

“Yep. Did you get what we needed?” King gripped her elbow, guiding her toward the door.

Ayesha shivered at the touch, knowing it was impersonal, yet her skin prickled. Get a grip, she scolded her inner hussy.

“Absolutely. All good here?” Duke lifted his chin in her direction.

She wanted to point out she could speak and hear but kept her lips sealed. No reason to antagonize the bikers any further. Hell, she was lucky to be making it out of their clubhouse relatively unscathed from what she’d seen earlier, unlike the one named Groot or Frog. She wasn’t sure which was which. Motorcycle clubs gave their members road names that had some significance behind them, but she couldn’t puzzle out what they were, not even Chloe’s boyfriend Tag, and she wasn’t brave enough to ask.

The walk to her car felt like forever, her shoes weighing her down as if she’d stepped in cement and now was dragging hundred-pound weights with each step. She tried to think of what to do next, who she could contact that would take her case seriously instead of thinking she was overreacting or that her sister was just a teenager who left of her own free will and would come home—eventually. However, they didn’t know Tiana or want to see Rico like Ayesha did. She knew her sister had thought she’d gone off on some grand adventure with a teen boy, not met up with a grown-ass man who had god knew what planned.

“Everything’s under control. See that Ayesha gets home safely,” he ordered.

Duke nodded, holding the door open. “Come on, princess, your chariot awaits.”

Ayesha snorted. “That thing is ten years old. I don’t think it’s anyone’s idea of a chariot.”

“It’s a cage no matter how old or new it is, but it’s a nice one,” Duke replied.

Pride at his words made her stand taller. She’d worked her ass off to buy the Mercedes SUV, saving up until she had enough to make a sizable down payment and paying it off within a year so her interest would stay down.

“Wait, a cage?” she asked.

“It’s what anything on four wheels is called, little girl,” Duke answered as he waited for her to get in.

“Oh, that’s...that’s fucked up, but yeah, okay. I’m outta here. Thanks for nothing.” Ayesha hurried into the driver’s seat, slamming the door behind her before she broke down in front of them. She hadn’t realized how much she’d hoped they could help her. Now, with her headlights highlighting the driveway, the stark realization of her situation hit her. She made sure to use her blinkers, following all the laws, as she didn’t want to draw any attention to herself. Her eyes kept going to the rearview mirror, checking if anyone was following her. Once she hit the freeway, she relaxed, merging with the fast-moving traffic even late at night or early morning.

Her nerves were strung so tight she felt a migraine beginning behind her right eye, the stabbing pain one she hated. With her right hand, she felt for her purse in the passenger seat, not taking her eyes off the road while she searched inside for the little bag that held her rescue meds. If she took the prescription early enough, she could usually stave off the harshest symptoms of the migraine. “Fuck, I hate this shit. I hate this entire situation. Why’d you do this to me, to us?” she screamed, slapping her hand against the steering wheel, angry tears flowing down her cheeks, making it hard to see the road in front of her. The sound of a car horn had her swiping at her face, pissed that she was allowing herself to cry again.

It took her less than an hour to get from the clubhouse to the quaint house she and her sister shared, the one she’d bought with the small life insurance policy after her husband’s death. It was the only thing good that had come from her marriage. She looked around the neighborhood, checking to see if there were any strange vehicles. The porch light was on, a habit she’d made sure both she and her sister did for an added safety measure.

She pressed the opener for the attached garage, waiting until it was open, easing inside like she’d done many times. She shut the car off before pressing the button to close the door. A sliver of something she couldn’t put a name to worked its way down her spine. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she got out of the small SUV, grabbing her purse and phone off the charger as she went. At the door to the house, she keyed in the alarm code, waiting to see all the clear signs before entering. The house felt empty, lonely, and even a little scary. “Shit, I’m a little pussy. Next, I’ll be jumping at shadows.”

On the counter, she noticed the bananas had started to turn brown. The only person who really ate them was Tiana. Pulling one off the bunch with her right hand, she felt her heart constrict. “These will rot before you get home,” she said, squeezing the offending fruit between her fingers, wincing as the yellow mush flowed out, making a mess.

“FOLLOW HER AND MAKEsure she doesn’t have a tail. When you return, Keys should have everything we need on her and her supposed missing sister. I want to talk to Gator and his ole’ lady first thing in the morning. We’ll need to meet, but I want more intel before calling Church. This could be a shitshow if word’s gotten out we are some do-gooder motherfuckers.” King ran his hand through his hair. “Take Gator and Cross with you,” he ordered Duke.

“You worried about my safety, bro?” Duke asked, his dark eyes flashing.

“This is about us, all of us. I’m not gonna let some hot chick fuck up our brotherhood. Besides, if you get into trouble, I’ll have to save your sorry ass, and I just don’t got time for that right now.” Losing their brother Luke to suicide hung heavy between them.

“Yeah, well, I don’t got no plans to meet my maker anytime soon either. I’ll keep you posted once we see your girl safe at home.” Duke lifted two fingers to his temple, turning toward the clubhouse. His fingers flew over his phone while he refrained from saying another word.

King didn’t correct him about Ayesha being his girl. Duke would take great pleasure in giving him shit if he did. Seconds later, the sound of three bikes rumbled out of the drive, following their mark. His phone beeped, getting a message from Keys. He scrolled through, reading what Keys had gathered on Ayesha and her sister Tiana. He clicked on the pdf to read the information. Ayesha was her sister’s guardian since their parents were killed a few years back. She and her husband. King narrowed his eyes as he read the other man’s name, exhaling when he read Ayesha’s husband had died in a one-vehicle car crash only months after their marriage.

“Damn, that had to suck,” he muttered, scanning over the document Keys had put together. The other man got his name because he was a computer hack. His fingers could fly over the keys of any keyboard within seconds, getting the information they needed without so much as leaving a footprint or whatever hackers do. He ground his back teeth as he read on, seeing Tiana’s report and what she’d been up to on the World Wide Web. “Little sister clearly didn’t know big brother was watching her. What a brat.” Not that it was bad to look at porn, but to have different social media accounts. She probably told her sister about one, and the other she hid because she knew she’d get into trouble. Well, he probably would’ve done the same if he’d been a teen and in her shoes. However, now her dirty little lies were coming back to bite her on the ass, and her sexy big sis was the one who was paying the price.

He pocketed his phone. The need for something to drink had his feet taking him to the kitchen to grab a beer. He thought about what Ayesha said and her offer to suck his dick. He’d told her he could have someone willing to do that and more within a minute, and he wasn’t kidding. Being the President of the Royal Sons MC came with perks. His father before him had been President, as had his grandfather. They’d come over from Ireland, but they sure as fuck didn’t have the luck of the Irish. Well, they did have a pot of gold and then some, yet the Royal men wanted more, and they’d do anything to get it. Getting what they wanted, when they wanted it, hadn’t been a problem for any of them. “Maybe we do have the luck of the Irish,” he mused. With a flick of his wrist, he uncapped the beer and took a long swig. The cold brew sliding down his parched throat quenched one thirst while another was left wanting.

After he finished the beer, he walked over to the window, staring back toward the clubhouse, seeing the lights still on, music barely audible where his house sat. He glanced over his shoulder, his stare caught on the last picture he and his two brothers had taken hanging on the wall. It was of the three of them standing next to their bikes. He and Duke had smirks on their faces while Luke was smiling. His kid brother always smiled. He had been the one to bring him and Duke out of any funk. Now, it was just the two of them, both assholes who were prone to being dicks.

“I would’ve accepted you, you little shit,” King said, squeezing the long-neck bottle between his fingers. The glass shattered from the force. He ignored the pain and the warm blood that dripped down unnoticed. “I’d have kicked the shit out of anyone who fucked with you,” he growled, looking down at his hand and what was left of the bottle. Instead of dropping the glass, he carefully walked to the kitchen, depositing the remnants in the garbage before running his hand under cold water. Once he had his hand clean and wrapped in a towel around it, he cleaned up the floor.

An hour passed before his phone rang again. He finished sealing the cut with the glue Doc had given them when his brother’s number showed on the caller ID. “What’s going on?” he asked without preamble.

“She lives in a small house with an attached garage. It”s a nice neighborhood, but not the Hills. She’s got a tail, and definitely not the police, either,” Duke said calmly.

“Did her tail have a tail?” King sat forward, his fingers flying across the keyboard of the computer. The silence that greeted him let him know Duke was checking with the other guys.

“Nope, only the G-Wagon that was pimped out. The dumbass was following her. Seriously, a white G-Wagon with chrome everything is a conspicuous rig. Either these dudes are dumbasses, or they think she’s that stupid.” Duke let his distaste show in his tone.

Although they had money, they put their cash in the club, their bikes, or on shit that had tangible meaning rather than a cage that meant nothing in a few years. “What did they do once she got home safe and sound?”

“They drove around her neighborhood before disappearing. We parked a couple blocks away. I moseyed on in for a closer look on feet. I didn’t see anything unusual, but we chilled for a few just to be safe. The others kept a lookout in case there was another coming in from the other direction. So far, all is good. I think they’re just watching her coming and going. If I were to guess, I’d say they’ve got her car tagged.”

King would agree with that assumption, especially if they had the kind of money it would take to make girls disappear without a trace and if they were rolling around in pimped-out cages like Duke said. “I think we’re dealing with a somewhat sophisticated group here, but also one that is ballsy. You know what that means?”

Duke snorted. “It means these fuckers are going to hate to meet us in a dark alley.”

“It means they ain’t gonna meet us in a dark alley because the fuckers will be too scared for that, yet they’ll think they hold all the cards. Head on back, and I’ll check with Keys. By the time you get here, I’ll probably know more about them.” King laughed, knowing Keys would likely have found out the type of underwear the others bought, just so he dotted all the I’s and crossed every T.

“You need anything before I head back? Maybe a burger or some lotion to help me rub one out? I saw the way you were looking at this one, brother. Remember, we don’t get involved with trouble, and this one looks like she is all capital T R O U B L E.” Duke disconnected before King could tell him to mind his own business.

“Like I fucking need you to tell me that, little brother.” King looked down at his phone, staring at the screen like it would give him answers. He went back to the computer in front of him, waiting for the files to open from Keys. The first file had been a preliminary one. A surface glance is what Keys called it. This one was deeper.

Hell, if he wanted, he could find out what both sisters had gotten in sixth-grade science, but that wasn’t what he was looking for. He was searching for anything that appeared off. A file, or email, some correspondence that shouldn’t be there. Ayesha might look like she was the upset older sister looking for the younger sister who had been tricked into a situation, but she could be setting them up. They were an MC who lived by several rules, never fuck over one another being one of them. However, they also took on slightly ethical jobs, but ones the law might not be able to do without a whole lot of red tape. King and his club didn’t like tape. It gave them hives. Besides, the money they got from some of their wealthier clients filled their coffers and allowed them to do pro-bono shit, like pull spoiled little brats like Tiana out of stupid situations. The downside was figuring out if they were being set up. If they were being set up, depending on who was doing it, it could mean jail time or death. Personally, King liked living a whole hell of a lot.

His phone chimed with an incoming message from Keys. “She appears on the up and up, and you know I’ve looked deep, brother. Need anything else? Let me know.”

King swiped his thumb over the lock button, opening up another file. This one contained pictures of both girls. Ayesha had long dark hair in the first, the ends nearly reaching her very round ass. His hand twitched to spank her like she’d tempted him. Damn, he couldn’t remember the last time a woman had gotten him so hard, so fast, just by daring him. He shifted in his seat, scrolling through the images. Both girls were dark-haired and dark-eyed, obviously mixed heritage with their caramel complexion. Ayesha’s hair had been soft and smooth beneath his hand when he’d touched it. He wondered if she was as soft and smooth all over. It took him a second to realize he was fantasizing about a woman he had no right to be thinking that way about. The following image popped onto the screen, a younger version of Ayesha. The girl could be her twin, but she hadn’t yet gotten the fuller curves like her older sister. King clicked through the images, freezing as he came to an image of Ayesha dressed in a wedding gown, smiling up at a young blonde man in a tux.

“Little prick looks like he drives a Volvo and likes to play Yahtzee, or Pinochle, or some other all-American nerdy ass game.” He sat back in the chair, folding his hands over his stomach.

What was it about Ayesha that had his insides twisting in knots? Sure, she was hot as fuck with curves in all the right places. He liked his women to have a womanly figure, not the typical model body you saw on the covers of magazines or the ones who looked as though they only ate salads and drank water. No, he wanted a woman who could handle a good hard fucking all night long. A woman who could take what he gave and still look up at him from her perch on her knees and still ask for more with a smile on her lips and a little bit of his come sliding out from between her legs. Yeah, he liked it dirty and rough, and that sexy little bit of fluff was precisely his type on the outside. But could she handle who he was and all that came with being his woman?