Chapter Fifteen
Sledge
Slate’s office was dead quiet when I stepped inside.
It had been a rough night, and we only got around an hour’s sleep, if that.
I’d just been to check on Eliana and Zoya.
They were okay but still a bit shaken. Half the fucking MC was gathered in here, hunched in chairs with a silence I knew meant they were talking about me.
The only time these guys were this quiet was when shit was about to get bad.
The air carried that charged kind of stillness that meant everyone already knew that trouble was on the horizon.
Slate was in his usual position behind his bank of monitors with two keyboards, a kind of chaos only he understood.
His eyes were bloodshot like he was looking at screens for too many fucking hours.
Diesel sat beside him, his grim expression carved from granite.
Tension took over as my gaze landed on the other brothers who’d gathered for whatever news Slate had found.
Hawk, Rebel, Maverick, Hollywood, Sniper, and Rocky all stared back at me with a mix of worry, pity, and readiness.
“What the fuck is going on?” I spent all night thinking about the trouble I’d put Zoya and Eliana in by taking them to the restaurant. Eliana told me I wasn’t allowed to blame myself. I knew she was right, but that didn’t stop the self-recrimination.
Slate looked up. “We got a name.”
His words ripped me from my thoughts, and I braced myself, for what exactly, I didn’t know. Only that it wasn’t gonna be good. “Tell me.”
“Dave Crow.” Slate’s voice was flat, no sign that this was a name I should know.
“He’s been a known associate of Trish’s for years, even before she moved to Vegas to ‘make it big’.
” He rolled his eyes hard at that. Trish had big dreams but not the drive or the talent.
“He moved in with her about six months after Zoya was born.”
My jaw clenched. Even though it wasn’t exactly a surprise, I still didn’t like it.
“And…” Slate began but he hesitated.
“Go on,” I said, encouraging him even though I could guess what came next.
“And he’s her new husband.”
It was all starting to make sense, and I didn’t like the picture that was coming together.
“Fuck,” I groaned, the sound rough even to my ears.
“Trish called to tell me she was married. She wanted to talk to Zoya, and I told her no fucking way.” She was up to something and if she wasn’t, Dave Crow definitely was.
“What do we know?” Diesel asked even though it was obvious they’d all been talking about it before I came back.
Slate nodded, talking directly to me, confirming my suspicions. “Former trust fund kid with a long rap sheet.”
“Former?” I asked, desperate to know everything about him.
Slate nodded. “His family is old Texas money. We’re talking nine figures, but Crow plowed through his money in record time and then Mom and Dad cut him off. Since then he’s been racking up charges, everything including assault, possession, and selling.”
“That’s it?”
“Nope. He makes money selling designer drugs, paying Ivy League chemists to whip up new shit every six months, and gambling. He sticks to the smaller casinos to avoid getting his ass kicked by the big casino guys.”
That wasn’t much, I mean, it was enough to get him locked up but it sounded like he was Teflon as far as the bigger charges went. Could he be the man that Zoya kept drawing?
“And his name has come up as a person of interest in eight murders, but cops don’t have enough evidence to put it on him. Each time they get close, somebody goes missing or their body turns up.”
“Fuck.”
Diesel nodded. “Yeah, he’s bad news all around.”
That was putting it lightly, goddammit. The words sank in and that old rage I felt—at Trish and whatever life she’d provided for our daughter—kicked in. I hated to admit it, but I hated that Eliana was probably right, and it was time to share it. “Eliana has a theory.”
“No offense,” Rebel began. “But what the fuck does a babysitter know?”
I sighed, biting back the smart-ass comment on the tip of my tongue. “She’s been working with Zoya,” I said. “This is why you guys chose her, remember?”
“Okay, let’s hear it,” Rocky said, his voice firm with just a hint of shut the fuck up in it.
I nodded, pulling out my phone and handing it to Slate. “They’ve been doing art therapy and Zoya’s been doing these drawings and sketches. There’s always this shadowy figure in the background. I think the man is Dave Crow.”
Every head in the room swung my way, silence hung heavy in the air. “That’s a fuck ton of drawings,” Diesel sighed.
I nodded. “Yeah, she thinks Zoya is trying to tell us what she saw. Either that or she’s just using art to process what she saw.”
“Violence,” Sniper said. “The theme in all the pictures, besides the fact that Trish is a piece of shit, is that the man did something violent in front of her.”
Yeah, I was getting that idea too.
“We need to ask her who that person is.” Maverick’s brows dipped in a thoughtful frown.
“What the fuck do you think I’ve been trying to do?
” The words roared out of me and the room fell silent.
I blew out a long breath and swiped a hand over my face.
“Look, what I mean is that I’m trying, okay?
I want answers too, but I can’t push Zoya too hard.
She’s hanging on by a thread and Eliana is the only one she’ll share any of this with. She still isn’t talking.”
They all nodded, understanding in everybody’s eyes. “You’re doing fine,” Diesel assured me. “You’re her dad and you’re here. That counts for a lot.”
I wanted to believe that. “We have to find this asshole and take him out. That’s the plan.” I looked at Diesel and found him nodding in agreement.
Diesel stood, clapping Slate on the back. “Get some sleep and then let’s figure out how to catch this motherfucker.”
“He has to be the supplier who provided the dirty drugs,” I said, thinking out loud. “If I’m the target, then he wanted to hurt the club as well.”
Slate nodded. “I’m on top of it. Seeing all the ways we can connect Dave to our recent issues.”
“Thanks, brother.”
“No thanks needed,” he said. “After a few hours of sleep, I’ll have more answers.”
“Okay.”
As soon as the meeting broke, I headed for the garage, but Eliana was right outside the office waiting for me. “What’s up?” I asked with a frown.
“I hate to be that person, but I need to get things from the house. For Zoya and me.”
I nodded, kicking myself for not thinking of it sooner. “Right.” I looked around, brows furrowed when I didn’t see my kid. “Where’s Zoya?”
Eliana’s face lit up. “She’s outside playing with some of the kids and that dog with a farting problem. She was smiling and eager, and I decided that we could take a break so she could be a regular kid for a few hours.”
Her smile was stunning and for a few seconds, I let myself get lost in her joy and her light. I didn’t know what the hell I’d done to deserve this woman in my life, but I was thankful as fuck for her. “Good thinking. I’ll tell her we’re leaving and then we can go.”
“Okay. Thank you, Sledge.”
***
The moment we stepped inside my house, it felt different. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours but even though the place looked the same with everything exactly where it was supposed to be, it all felt different. The energy was off.
Had someone had been here?
“I’m going to pack up some things.” Eliana sounded nervous. I wasn’t sure if it was due to what happened last night, or the thought of being alone with me.
I smiled at that thought, scanning the room for any signs of change. I went from room to room just making sure nothing had been disturbed and when I returned to the living room, Eliana was there with three bags at her feet, a backpack, and two duffel bags.
“What’s all this?”
She grinned. “Clothes and things for me and Zoya. And my books and research.”
“How long do you think we’re gonna be staying at the clubhouse?”
She looked embarrassed. “I wanted everything to be as normal as possible for Zoya, so I’ve packed her favorite toys and books.”
This woman was perfection. I stared at her a second too long, my pulse kicking up. She was soft and strong at the same time, that perfect mix that drove me crazy for some reason. Before I could think better of it, I crossed the room, cupped her face, and kissed her.
Hard.
She melted against me instantly, fingers sliding up my arms before tangling in my hair. The kiss deepened, intensified, and turned hungry. When she finally pulled back, her smile was small and shocked. “What was that for?”
“Because I just couldn’t fucking help myself.” That was my honest answer and her smile said she thought it was enough.
Eliana laughed softly, shaking her head, but the sound died when I kissed her again. This time slower, deeper, the kind that erased everything else.
Her breath hitched when my hands slid down her hips, thumbs brushing the skin just above her waistband. “Sledge,” she whimpered when I slid my hand into her waistband.
“Are you wet for me, Eliana?” I knew she would be, but I wanted to hear her say it. “Tell me that sweet pussy is drenched for me.”
Her breaths came out in soft huffs that grew heavier the lower my fingers moved. “Why don’t you find out for yourself?”
I smiled, loving the sassy side of her. “Maybe I will,” I replied, kissing my way from her lips to her jaw, nibbling her ear the same time my fingers found her folds, swollen and slick. “Look at that, one kiss and your pussy is weeping for more.”
“Ah,” she sighed and looked at me when I found her clit with my finger. “Must be some kind of biker voodoo.”
I arched a brow, sliding one finger deep. “Not just any biker.”
She shook her head. “Remind me,” she begged and I was powerless to do anything but that. One finger slid in and out while my thumb teased her clit until my hand was coated with her juices. “Oh fuck!” she whispered when I added another finger.
Eliana was so fucking responsive that my cock was hard and throbbing, hungry to join the party. “You want more?” I already knew she did.
“No,” she grinned. “This is good. Perfect.”
“Liar.” I added a third finger, stretching her wide as I pressed hard circles against her clit.
Her body trembled and I hooked my arm around her waist to keep her from falling.
“I know what you need,” I told her, nipping at her chin, her throat, anywhere I could reach. “You like it hard. A little bit rough.”
Her full lips tilted into a grin. “Or maybe,” she groaned when I pushed deeper. “I just like you.”
Those words did something to me that I refused to think about, so I slammed my mouth against hers, kissing her hard, fucking her mouth with my tongue while I fingered her to a fast orgasm that made her legs shake.
I swallowed her cries of pleasure, still stroking, still fingering her long after the last of it left her body. “I love making you come.”
She laughed, the sound was quiet and a little nervous. “I like it when you make me come too,” she whispered shyly. “You’re so good at it.”
I knew I was a good fuck but hearing her say it felt damn good. “You think so?”
She shook her head. “I know so. I’m not sure I ever had any good orgasms before you, Sledge.” She was a lot younger than me so the words shouldn’t have meant so much, but goddammit they did.
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “Oh yeah. I swear I’ve been dreaming about it.” She shivered as if she was thinking about it now and my cock jumped behind my zipper. “I just have one question,” she said breathlessly.
“What’s that?”
Her eyes were wide, dark, pupils blown out. “Do we have time for more?”
I grinned. “Fuck yeah, we do.”
“Oh good.” Her hands went to my button and then my zipper, and she took what she wanted.