Chapter 10
Everyone in life is going to hurt you; you just have to figure out which people are worth the pain. - Bob Marley
L acey
I wake up to find him gone again. I swear if he keeps this up, he’s going to give me a complex. Does he never sleep? He wasn’t in here when I fell asleep. The crying made everything blurry when I’d come back here, falling into his bed only to sob some more that he essentially sent me to bed. I couldn’t help my emotions, Lord, I tried to suppress them, but it seemed like everything hit me at once when I heard him say Seth could be dead. In the back of my mind, it was a whisper, but I never put any thought behind it. I blindly believed that even if bad guys held my brother that somehow, we’d find him and get him back.
My phone rings, drawing me out of my morning fog. It’s my father. I’m still angry and disappointed in him, so I deny the call. Climbing out of bed, I head for the bathroom and my phone lights up, ringing again. This time, it’s my mother, no doubt my father told her I sent him straight to voicemail and now she’s doing damage control. I deny her call too. I’d shut my phone off completely if there wasn’t some fool’s part of me hoping Seth will get to his cell somehow and give me an address to come and pick him up at.
Like me jetting off would go over well with Asher after everything last night. He made it more than clear in the bar that whoever’s doing this is extremely dangerous. Hurrying through a shortened version of my morning routine, I toss my hair on top of my head in a bun and hop in the shower. Quickly scrub my body, then dry off, steal some toothpaste, a new T-shirt, and tug on my yoga pants. I’m cleaned up with fresh breath and on my way to poke around and find Asher in less than twenty minutes.
The clubhouse is quiet as I make my perusal through the hall to the bar. This time, instead of quiet voices, I’m greeted with complete silence. Checking my phone, I realize it’s noon and I slept longer than I have in who knows how long. Not only did I get to sleep in, but being in Asher’s bed, I seem to sleep much deeper than I typically do too.
I stop by the multiple bathrooms that are also empty. Then the kitchen. There are snacks, closed bags of chips, multiple twelve packs of sodas, cases of water bottles, along with various other items covering the counters. It looks like someone went shopping and failed to put everything away. I’d help, but I don’t want to annoy anyone if this stuff has a specific place it all goes.
Poking my head into the next doorway, I’m greeted with double washing machines and dryers. There’s a scuffed up yellow mop bucket, along with five bottles of bleach. Clearly, they’ve never heard that some vinegar will do the trick and won’t kill you in the process. It’s empty, so I peek through the window of the kitchen, peering out into the back land to find no one there either.
Well, this is different. This place is typically bustling with people, or at least it has been since I arrived a few days ago. Crazy to think that much time has passed already, although knowing Asher for as long as I have, it’s like we haven’t skipped a beat, and I feel more comfortable with him now than ever.
I make myself a cup of coffee and note that someone must be around because it smells fresh. After I stir in some organic pure cane sugar, organic heavy cream, and add a splash of homemade vanilla simple syrup, I take a sip and moan a little to myself at the rich flavor. I’m guessing I owe my thanks for this sweet set up to Baker. Asher warned me not to eat any treats coming directly from the man himself or I’ll be floating in the clouds, but something tells me he also has a hand in everything coffee related in the kitchen as well. Oh God, I wonder if this coffee is marijuana infused or something? I supposed the vanilla syrup could be too. I guess I’ll find out in about twenty minutes if it’s the case or not and I end up tripping all day from some powerful coffee mixture.
With my cup in hand, I stroll back down the hall, noticing a door open at the end of an adjacent hall. It must’ve been closed the past times I’ve walked through here because I never noticed it before. “Hello?” I call out and freeze when I hear movement from inside.
Whiskey and Baker pop their heads out the doorway and I move towards them. “Morning, hun,” Baker greets.
“Darlin’,” Whiskey rasps, and if I wasn’t so crazy for his brother, I’d be looking twice at Whiskey. He has that sexy daddy vibe going for him and while normally it’s not my thing, for him, I’d make it mine. Baker, on the other hand, is a mountain of a man, not so much big and tall, but wide and cheery. He’s got big cheeks to match his belly and has worn a smile each time I’ve seen him.
“Have either of you seen Plague recently?” I mentally pat myself on my back for remembering to use his road name with his brothers. However, I think after I yelled at him last night about being Asher to me, I think he’s chilled out over it and realized he can change his name to other people, but he’ll always hold the same place in my heart.
They glance at each other, then at the floor and wall, avoiding me. “Uh, yeah, earlier,” Whiskey rasps while Baker bops his head, silently agreeing.
“Okay…So, do you know where he is? He’s not in the bar like yesterday.”
They clear their throats and Baker perks up, muttering about having to check something he forgot in the kitchen, and instantly my stomach drops. There’s something they know that they obviously don’t want me to, but I’m not dropping it. The robust man skirts around me, hurrying down the direction I just came from.
“Whiskey? Please, just tell me what’s going on.”
“I can’t tell you much, darlin’. But I can say he got a text ‘bout four in the morning. Didn’t have time for church or anything, just woke the brothers and they left.”
“They left? Where did he go?”
He shrugs, and I know right then and there he knows where they are, but he won’t tell me no matter what. I start to turn, and he interrupts, “Where you going?”
“To grab my keys and purse. I need to go to Seth’s job to talk to his co-worker.”
“Ain’t happening.”
I sputter, “E-excuse me?” Who does he think he is, telling me I can’t leave.
“Plague took your car.”
“He what?!” I’m on the verge of outrage. I swear that man has the nerve to take my car and leave without telling me anything! Knowing him, whatever he’s doing is ridiculously dangerous. He could probably die, and he didn’t utter a word to me about it. “He’s been gone for hours, and no one thought to say a word to me?”
“He’s trying to get Seth back. He’s hoping he’ll need the vehicle to bring your brother home. Would’ve been difficult trying to get them both on his hog. Nobody knows the state they’ll find your brother in.”
I nod. Feeling a bit detached at his words. Part of me wants to scream in anger, the other wants to buckle into a heap of tears, and lastly, the rational side of me tells me this has to happen for any of this to move forward. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. I don’t, not one bit. Without another word, I turn away from the handsome information holding hostage man and make my way to the bar.
It’s noon, so fuck it. I head behind the bar, grab the bottle of Wild Turkey and tip it, pouring some into my coffee. With the pertinent beverage, I walk to the long windows facing the parking area and take in the empty space. Most of the bikes and my car are missing. I didn’t even realize it when I poked my head in here earlier, too distracted to pay attention.
Taking a sip, I sit my butt on the top of the closest table so I can continue to stare outside. The windows were designed a little higher than normal. Easier for a tall man to see out of, or if you’re on a barstool, or standing. They did not design this place with women in mind, well except on how to keep us here, but nothing else.
My next drink isn’t a sip but more like a gulp. The liquor burns going down, as I’m not a big drinker. I partied a little in college, but being in an industry filled with men, I had to keep my head on straight, or they’d have left me behind the first chance they got. Now, I have the luxury of working from home most days. I submit the bulk of my work to my boss directly, online, and we go back and forth in a chat. I have to pop into the office once a week for our team meeting and catch up on any office work, otherwise my schedule works around me for the most part. I take another drink, realizing I may need Wild Turkey in my coffee more often if this is what I can expect for future mornings.
Worrying about Asher too much will drive me to being a drunk if I’m not careful. With that thought, I take another drink, watching as a motorcycle rolls into the parking lot. The biker glances around, taking in the few bikes in the parking lot, then turns around, riding off. I don’t know what that was about, but I’m guessing he didn’t belong here since he had a different patch on his back.
A car pulling in waves at him as they drive by, and I make out a woman through the windshield. She’s not one of the slutty chicks I’ve seen around hanging off the guys wearing next to no clothes. She parks, and as she gets out, her passenger side opens with a biker climbing out. He’s pretty clean cut for being a Bastard , a little scruff on his face, but he screams businessman more than biker.
The female comes striding inside like she owns the place, the guy hot on her heels. They don’t have the ‘couple’ dynamic, but they’re definitely friends. She glances over me from top to bottom then comes to a standstill in front of me. The guy heads for the bar. “You must be Lacey. I’m Alice.”
“Okay…” I trail off for a beat, take another drink of the Wild coffee before saying, “Nice to meet you, Alice.”
She grins. “Liquor for lunch? Can’t say I’m surprised with these guys, they drive me to drink too.”
“Hey, hey,” the guy calls, sending her a raised brow.
She shrugs. “It’s true. I’m Ripper’s ol’ lady and this here is Richardson. He used to be my bodyguard but now he likes to play dress up with my biker boyfriend. Even bought himself a motorcycle and everything,” she teases as he approaches carrying two drinks.
“Nice, Alice. Ripper will love you talking shit while he’s busy.”
“It only takes one blow job, Richardson, and that man will forget.” She winks and his nostrils flare. They have more of a brother-sister vibe going now that I’m listening to them, but they don’t look anything alike.
He hands her a drink then holds his hand out to me, “Mark, nice to meet you.”
I glance down at his hand, then meet his eyes. “Is it, though? I wake up to find your club gone, taking my car in the process, and have gotten zero information from the two men here with me. I’m not sure I’d pick today to meet me if I were you.”
He whistles low, lips twisting into a smirk. “I thought you were hot at first glance, but Christ, no wonder Plague’s claimed you.” Alice shoots him a quick glare, but he ignores her. “One of us would’ve scooped you up in a heartbeat with the dose of truth you’re not afraid to dish.”
“Thanks, I think,” I whisper at the non-compliment-sort-of-compliment. At least, I think it was one. “So you’re dating Ripper?”
She nods and Mark cuts in again, “She’s not dating, the man owns her.” This comes out more in a grumble, but something tells me he doesn’t have the hots for her. “Literally, she has his property patch.” She beams while he shakes his head, muttering, “Still catching grief from your father over it.”
“Go bother Whiskey, you grouch,” she orders. He gives her a nonchalant salute and swaggers towards the hallway leading to the kitchen. Alice finds a remote, pressing some buttons until a few of the flat screens light up. She turns one on the Dallas news, the other goes to a Real Housewives episode. It’s a rerun, I’ve already seen it. “Richardson’s a good guy, he’s handy to have around if you need protection.”
“Are you the type to need protection?”
She sets her glass down on the low coffee table by the pool tables and plops down on the closest coach. “My father’s in politics, so he always wanted me protected. Now with Ripper…yeah, it’s a lost cause. Richardson lives his own club life, but whenever something comes up that needs his attention, then Richardson is left back to help protect me.”
My brows jump in surprise. I wasn’t expecting her to say all that. I’m guessing since she’s a part of the club, I can talk to her about what’s going on. “I’m losing my mind.” I attempt not to tear up. It’s hard though when I’m trying so flipping badly not to be angry, or worse, thinking Asher could end up dead in this mess along with Seth. Just considering the thought makes me want to puke my guts up. “They left me here with no information, not even a goodbye. They take my car so I can’t leave, and the guys here will tell me nothing. I overheard them talking last night about how my brother could be dead. They think it might be cartel related, and it’s taking everything in me to keep sipping this Wild Turkey and not completely lose my shit.”
She frowns, empathy in her stare as she stands and comes to me. In the next beat, she has her arms around me, holding me in a warm hug. She’s long and lean, while I’m kind of tall for a woman and very curvy, we couldn’t be more different, but I have a feeling we have more in common than I realize. “It’s not fair, at all, and I’m sorry you are dealing with this. Plague obviously cares about you a lot to go after these people and try to bring your brother back safely. My mother told me something when I was a little girl I’ve held on to. Is there anything you can do right in this very moment to change any of it?”
My lip wobbles as she draws back to look me in my eyes. I take a hefty swig, the cup nearly empty at this point. “The fucked-up thing…is I think the answer is no and I absolutely hate that.”
She nods. “It is fucked up, but in admitting that you’ve freed your shoulders from some of the guilt and grief you’re feeling right now. Would praying or drinking help you get through the day more?”
“Neither.”
“Pick one.”
“Let’s get drunk.”
“I think you and I are going to be good friends, Lacey,” she says with a kind smile and grabs my hand. She leads us behind the bar and glances at me with a new twinkle in her eye. “All this liquor. I think we can mix up some potions to make us feel a little better about being left behind here, then we’ll crank the music up and dance on the bar. You know why?”
I shake my head, wondering how she’s sucked me into this plan of hers so easily when I typically am not swayed as quickly.
“Because we can. No one’s here, so let’s take full advantage of having a biker bar full of neat stuff to our advantage.”
“Who are you?” I whisper.
“I’m the queen bitch around here, and I’ve just made you my new best friend. So buckle up, buttercup, because I’m about to make you forget about your troubles. At least for today,” she promises and grabs a giant fishbowl looking glass. “Now, what do we add first? Something to make us laugh and pass out,” she murmurs more to herself and reaches for the first bottle.