1. Cipher
CIPHER
T he Black Pagan Bar (Royal Bastards Territory)
December 1993…
There was only one bar in Port Townsend, and Paul Bulldog Jameson owned it. The Black Pagan stood out like a sore thumb at the edge of the quaint town, and it had been shunned as such. Not many people liked to spend their evenings there, but we had our crowd. Bikers that were passing through, a few boozy locals, fellow patch members, and friends. We had our hang arounds and our little club whores, always lookin’ to hook up with a Bastard. Those were the women we had to watch out for. They were dangerous, and liked to tangle us brothers up like Christmas lights that hadn’t been turned on for a while. Hell, I already know of one of our brother’s who needs to watch his back, cause there was a pretty little whore already out for more.
It wasn’t like Silencer needed a woman, he was the most stoic, mean looking son of a bitch I knew. He was also appointed by Bulldog as Secretary of the club. There was no one better at keeping shit organized and tracked than Silencer. Don’t get me wrong, he may look like one of those models on the cover of magazines with the gold rimmed glasses and the expensive Armani shoes, but he didn’t get his name by just looking pretty. Fucking with Silencer meant you had a death wish on you. He was a marine, a sharp shooter, and getting into his good graces took time, but in the end, he was a loyal type.
There was this one little angel who liked to vie for his attention. Silencer didn’t say much, but he never brushed her off, and if he was way into his drinks, he’d take her out back and use her to his heart’s content. Problem was, now she was all over him and although he didn’t seem to mind, I did.
“Listen bunny, I need you to bounce that pretty ass over to that corner over there and don’t return until your master, here, tells you otherwise.”
She bit down on her lip looking innocent and hot as fuck. My cock twitched and Silencer nodded in acknowledgement at her. Swatting her ass for good measure. It brought a smile back to her face and I rolled my eyes and leaned back into my chair.
“That woman has trouble written all over her,” I shook my head.
“She’s a woman of God,” Virgil muttered, seated beside us in the shadows- taking a leisurely sip of his whiskey.
I chuckled. “I’m sure she gets down on her knees and worships him all the time.”
Silencer cocked a brow. “Damn straight she does,” he clinked his glass bottle to mine and we both took a swig.
I leaned back in the chair and assessed the surroundings. The bar was packed tonight, Bulldog was looking for members and word had spread like wildfire. The Royal Bastards were growing and everybody wanted a piece of the pie. Bulldog wanted chapters in all the major cities and he was a believer of having nomads where he could. A smart move if you ask me.
“It’s all about the connections you make, Cipher. Don’t you forget that,” he’d say.
“Yes, Sir,” I’d nod and go about my day.
I didn’t usually hang out too much at the Black Pagan, especially due to the fact that I worked as a Detective down at the local precinct. I worked in the cyber division, doing what I did best, hacking hackers.
How the hell did I get involved with the local Motorcycle Club?
Good question.
I met Saddle when I was just out of high school. I was eighteen, didn’t really have much to my name and I was working at a tech shop when he found me. He needed someone who knew all the technical shit he didn’t, and when I came to repair his computer he asked me a few questions and hired me on the spot. A few weeks later I was taken in by the cops for hacking into a bank site. An easy hack and a stupid move on my part. Bulldog, the Royal Bastards’ President and Saddle had bailed me out, but the cops kept returning, wanting to learn any information I could give them.
Soon enough, I was working both angles. I was lucky enough to be offered a spot in the Police Academy while I was researching shit on the black market for the Royal Bastards.
Bulldog was hesitant at first, but then thought it would be good to have eyes and ears in the precinct, so they supported my endeavors. I got through the academy and went right into the Cyber Division, it wasn’t long before I was named Detective, and leading the hacker division. I was only twenty-six years old. And now, because of my loyalty to them, was how I found myself in this mess in the first place.
I had a reputation to uphold both in and out of the Royal Bastards, but tonight I was taking a risk which led me to the reason why I was sitting in the shadows of the bar with Virgil and Silencer by my side. I had my laptop opened, researching the black market per Bulldog’s request. We offered our security services for anyone who was in the underworld who needed our specialized services. But lately we’d been on a hiatus with Bulldog getting involved with a fucking FBI agent. Everything I did now had to be done under the radar according to Saddle. He still didn’t quite trust Bulldog’s woman, Aiyana, although I knew her well enough to say she was just lookin’ out for us. Then there was Spectre’s situation. He’d recently gone off the edge fucking around with demons and making deals he had no business making. Virgil seemed to accept it all in stride, and I didn’t want to bring up the subject, cause in truth, I didn’t want to fucking know if demons existed. I’d rather turn away and keep on with my merry life. Ignorance is bliss at times, especially now that I had a reason for it.
A few feet away from us, a curvy blonde laughed, touching the man’s arm in front of her. I nearly jumped out of my seat and hauled his ass out the door, but I had to be careful there. As much as I hated it, this was something she did on a nightly basis. It was her job, being an escort. It was the only way she’d found to make some money and hide at the same time.
Her name was Mila Stepanovich, and I was the one who found her nearly dead on the shore along the Canadian coastline about a year ago, while I was on a wild goose chase for Yulian Volkov. That Russian scum had left her there for dead, and when I stumbled across her body, it wasn’t in my nature to just leave her there.
Unfortunately, Yulian was long gone when I arrived, and the motherfucker had been running ever since. I’d find him at some point, he owed the Bastards a debt, one that wouldn’t be easily paid off. You fuck with our Prez and you’ve got a whole world of pain coming at you.
But going back to Mila, I couldn’t just leave her there. She looked so frail and vulnerable. At the time I knew she’d be a valuable witness, and as a Detective I was going to push her for any information we needed about Yulian’s whereabouts and his murders. Maybe she’d heard something, or maybe the son of a bitch had told her something that could give me a solid reason to shoot the fucker’s head off, but that wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought.
When I’d found her she was practically dead. She was shaking so bad, I thought her teeth might shatter. Her body had deep dark purple, yellowish bruises along her neck, arms, legs, her wrists lay limp at her sides, and I was sure she had more than a few broken bones. She had been shot in the leg and her head lay bleeding on the rocks from a bullet that had just missed its target. She was going in and out of consciousness until the paramedics arrived and revived her. She was quickly brought back to the States as I’d stayed back and made the call.
I had told Ray, Aiyana’s FBI partner, about the situation. I told him to keep it under the damn radar until I figured a way to protect Mila, but despite it all, the fucker didn’t listen. Instead, he’d let those tactless FBI thugs up to question her in the hospital, and it didn’t take her long to disappear.
After cursing out Ray, and getting a few hits into his jaw and nose, it became an all out race between us to find Mila and get the information we needed, before the FBI once again got their hands on her.
I spent weeks trying to find her. I’d managed to track the video surveillance from the hospital. With my clearance, I asked questions and got feed from the cameras in the area. I watched hours and hours of video feed, managing to get just a few feet behind her, but every time I’d catch a glimpse of her, she’d disappear down another alley or street and I was back to square one.
Mila Stepanovich was a smart little recluse. She dressed in black, remained inconspicuous and had become one helluva pick pocket. After a month or so I finally got a lead that traced her to a cafe in downtown Seattle. It was one she began to frequent. Every Wednesday she’d go in and have breakfast, and eventually she began to work there. Satisfied that she was still alive and well, I watched her through the cafe surveillance cameras for a little while, until about a month later, when the little wench disappeared again.
Going down to the cafe I had a meeting with Bonnie, another waitress who was oddly protective of Mila and not keen on giving me any information. I managed to pry it out of her, not without a little convincing.
“Have you seen this girl?”
She took a quick glance at the photograph and then pinned her mistrustful gaze on me. “Who’s asking?”
“Family.”
“She doesn’t have any family.”
“Well, they’re looking for her.”
“And you’re supposed to be it?” She smirked, blatant in her skepticism.
“Listen, I need to find her.”
“Well there ain’t nothin’ to find here,” she turned to leave and I grabbed her wrist.
“She’s in danger. I need to find her.”
The woman stared at me, and for a moment, she second guessed herself, but then she leaned in, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“You’re a cop, aren’t you?”
“What if I was?”
“I don’t talk to cops.”
“Then will you talk to a Royal Bastard?” I placed my jacket on the seat beside me, my patches flashing, her eyes shining.
That’s all it took for these women to be all over us. “Oh, you mean Candy?”
“Is that what she goes by?” I smiled at her and the older woman blushed, knowing exactly what she was doing.
Leaning my forearms on the table, I raised my finger and gestured for her to come closer. She placed a hand on the table and leaned forward, her floral perfume surrounded me and aimed right down at my cock, making it react. I wish I could tell you I was a good man and didn’t take advantage, but fuck, I’m human. In seconds I’d have her down on her knees in the men’s bathroom, giving me a much needed blowjob, but not before I got my information.
Taking a lock of her blonde hair between my fingers, I took a long glance at her ample cleavage, the tops of a black leopard bra peeked out at me and I bit down on my lip before looking into her pretty green eyes.
“You wouldn’t know where she went off to, would you?”
The woman was all flustered and red cheeked as I trailed a finger down her neck and into her cleavage. “I-I know they recruited her.”
“Who did?”
She dug into her pocket and pulled out a black card. The word Illicita was engraved on it in gold. Flipping the card around, all it had printed on it was a number.
“Did they tell you who they were?”
She nodded, now hovering just a little closer, and when I smiled up at her I knew she’d be mine if I wanted her.
“They’re an escort service. Pretty popular around these parts. High end. They wanted me but…I’m a good girl.”
“Hmmmm, yes you are.”
Grabbing her hand, I yanked her toward the bathrooms, shoved her into a stall, and she showed me exactly how much of a good girl she was as she got on all four and I stuck my cock up that cougar ass. She moaned and panted like a bitch in heat, and when I was done, she cleaned up my cock with that good girl tongue of hers. She then wrote down her number in her pamphlet, ripped the paper off and stuck it in my jacket pocket.
“If you ever need anything,” she whispered before heading out.
I took the paper out and smiled, crumbling it and throwing it in the trash. There was no need for seconds in my world, when I sure as hell knew I could have firsts anywhere else. I didn’t get tied down and I didn’t get involved, it was easier that way.
Less fucking stress.
I never returned to that cafe, instead I drove my way down a darker rabbit hole. One that involved illicit affairs, and lonely men who needed a woman on their arm to feel powerful.
Illicita.
The company was known for their exquisite taste in women and men. Escorts that dripped in sex and money, who could play the part for the rich scummy execs who used them to be seen. They were high end and legit, but according to the FBI files that Ray had come across, these fuckers were also pinned to a darker black market scheme. They were allegedly sex trafficking minors and the case was currently open on them.
I knew I had to be careful here. Hundreds of man hours had been poured into this case and I just couldn’t go fuck around in it. But in my race to save her, Mila Steponavich was quickly becoming my sole focus, leading me down a much darker path.
One that connected the Royal Bastards to Volkov and the Black Market Railroad.
One that brought me back to this bar and seated only feet away from my target.