Chapter 22
Lexi
I ’m hiding out in our room, pacing. I got really spooked when I saw that picture of the man with dark hair and the woman who was tied up. Something about that man reminded me of my dad. It was the way his ear looked, practically plastered back against his head. My dad is the only other person I’ve seen with an ear like that. He said it was a birth defect. And the hair was the exact color of my old man’s. Granted, the hair was a little longer, but his build was also the same. Ugh, I hate everything about this situation.
My stomach has been upset since this morning, and this is making it worse. I grab a couple of antacids and throw them in my mouth. Clearly, I don’t do well with stress.
Confusion and guilt are warring for top place in my emotions right now. I’m confused because I don’t remember my dad growing his hair out at any point, but that man bore such an uncanny resemblance to my father. I’m feeling high amounts of guilt for even thinking it could be my dad in the pictures—that he would be involved with something like this.
It’s all Zen’s fault for putting that thought in my head. Hearing him accuse my father of being a serial killer is a bell I can’t un-ring. No matter how hard I try to put it out of my mind, it’s still rattling around in there, causing me to doubt my own father. That makes me the worst kind of daughter in the world—one who allows her boyfriend to cast aspersion on her father’s character, but is still happy to continue seeing him.
The more I pace, the more agitated I get. I need to talk to someone, but Cindy and Kayla aren’t going to understand.
Even talking to my online friends is no good. I’d have to start explaining the situation from the ground up. And it’s not lost on me that my situation is too complicated and far-fetched to be believable. I know if someone came at me with a story like this, I would think it was sus and sketchy as hell. I rake my hands over my face in exasperation. Even with having Zen and his club on my side, I feel all alone.
These guys are mostly straight arrows, prior military types. If they find out for sure that my father was involved, they’re probably going to see me as complicit. How could I go my whole life and not know? Seeing that photo of a man who looks an awful lot like my father has sent my life into a tailspin. Where once I was so sure he wasn’t involved, now I have nothing but doubts.
I don’t know exactly how long I’ve been low-grade panicking, but my phone buzzes, pulling me out of it. I pull it out and find a text from Zen. He’s apparently tracked down the location of that hunting lodge, and he and his club brothers are going there right now. I don’t know why I’m surprised that things are moving along so quickly. They are the ‘no time like the present’ club, after all.
I bring my hand up to answer his text—to wish him well, thank him, and caution him to be safe—only my phone lights up with a new text. It’s from MadHitter of all people. He’s messaging me through some obscure text platform that I don’t recognize. But since he gets off on discovering new apps, and he’s my friend, the suspicious part of my brain doesn’t kick in—especially when I read his message.
MadHitter: Hey, girl. I ended up on the West Coast for a business meeting. Want to meet up for coffee?
This dude is from Australia, so this is some random, out-of-left-field surprise I’m totally unprepared for right now. Since I’m in an active crisis, I can’t be running off to have coffee with anyone, even an online friend I’ve known for a while. So, I decline his invitation.
Me: Sorry, Hitter. My life is total pandemonium at the moment. Don’t have the mental bandwidth to be any kind of conversationalist right now.
MadHitter: Wow, that sounds all kinds of stressful. If you need someone to talk to, I’m a fantastic listener.
I know I was just thinking about how much I need someone to talk to, but the thought of actually saying the words ‘my father might be a killer’ is just too much to deal with. I can’t do it. It’s best to wait and talk to Zen. He’s the only one who can understand what I’m going through.
Me: No. I can’t people right now. You should visit a few attractions and enjoy your West Coast stay, though.
He doesn’t answer back, so I toggle over to Zen’s message and reply to his text.
Me: Glad you’re going to check it out. Stay safe and I hope you catch this asshole. Can’t wait to talk to you.
Once I hit send, I start spiraling again. I start feeling claustrophobic, like I need to go outside and run laps around the building. That’s crazy talk, though, right? Deep down inside, I know it is.
So instead, I go downstairs just in time to hear the roar of motorcycles fading in the distance. Damn, I was hoping to have a minute to say goodbye in person. It’s too early for a mixed drink, and I’ve already had breakfast, so I decide to go out onto the back patio and relax. Once I get back there, I see some trash lying around that the prospects haven’t gotten to yet. Clearing up seems like a great way to release some nervous energy. So that’s what I do.
Once the cleanup is done, I wipe down the picnic tables. Then I notice some weeds that need pulling around the edge of the patio. It only takes a few minutes to pull them, and the whole place starts looking like a relaxation retreat. At first, I’m surprised that no one has come out of the clubhouse. Then I remember that most of the brothers just tore out of here to find the guy who killed my father and seems to be stalking me. The prospects are all doing double duty at the gate and in the clubhouse, taking care of the old ladies and club girls.
I start pulling weeds that are growing down the sidewalk that leads to a small football-type clearing in the far backyard. Before I know it, I’m pulling weeds like a madwoman along the metal fence along the back of the lot. It’s not a proper chain-link fence, but something that was probably originally intended to keep cattle out. It’s three lines of barbed wire with a post every six feet or so.
The next thing I hear is someone calling my name. I recognize the voice, so I don’t turn around. The voice is deep and warm. It’s the very same voice that called me a thousand times, but it can’t be my dad because he’s dead.
“Lexi, come to me right now.”
I slowly stand up and look out into the overgrown field on the other side of the fence. Thinking to myself, this must be what it’s like to finally lose your mind. You start hearing and seeing things that aren’t real. I take a step back as I tear up. Isn’t it enough that he’s in all my nightmares as I relive his horrific death over and over again? Now he has to show up in my waking life to haunt me as well.
All the while I’ve been parsing this out in my head, the ghost of my father has been moving closer to me. I look up at him with tears running down my face, blurring my vision. “You’re not supposed to be here. You’re dead,” I whisper. My voice sounds hollow and wooden to my own ears.
Suddenly, there’s a sharp pain in my leg, and a jolt of electricity courses through my body, freezing me in place. It’s the most painful experience of my entire life.
My mind can’t reason properly through the blinding pain, but I become aware that he’s grabbed me and is literally hefting me over the low fence line with both hands. That’s when I realize I was hit by a stun gun.
I try and struggle free but it’s like my body wont obey any commands, and the man starts dragging me away. I finally catch my breath long enough to ask, “Who are you and why are you doing this?”
“Shut up and keep moving. You should have agreed to have coffee with my son. We could have nabbed you more easily away from those damn bikers.”
My sluggish, traumatized brain starts putting the pieces of the puzzle together. “MadHitter is your son?”
“Terry always did like stupid screen names.”
I immediately realize that whoever this is—this man who looks like my father—is the actual killer. I’m equal parts horrified to find I’ve been taken by this monster and relieved that my father is vindicated regarding being the killer.
It hits me pretty damn quick that if I don’t get away from this crazy killer, no one will ever know. I start pulling against his grip, trying to break free so I can run back to the clubhouse before we get too far away.
His hand clamps down all the harder. “Stop fighting me, or I’ll tase you again.”
Although the thought of getting tased again is terrifying, I can’t let him bully and threaten me into letting him take me. I continue fighting for all I’m worth, and just when he’s reaching for his taser, gunshots ring out.
A loud voice comes from behind us. “Let the woman go, or I’m going to blow your fucking head off.”
My would-be abductor grabs me and whirls around to use me as a shield. I can see now that the man shooting at us is Wade, one of the prospects. The look on his face is furious. “I said let the woman go, asshole.”
The next thing I know, this guy has a huge knife and he’s bringing it to my throat. “You want the girl back? Then you’d best do exactly what I say.”
“Don’t listen to him,” I shout. “He’s a serial killer.”
His arms tighten around me, and the knife presses against the tender skin of my neck. Memories run through my mind of people talking about slitting someone’s throat. I have a vague idea of how gruesome that would be.
I see other prospects coming up behind Wade. They have their weapons drawn and pointing at us as well. If I’m being honest, having so many guns pointed in my direction makes me feel extremely unsafe, but not more so than being abducted by this man. If he’s the one who killed those women instead of his son, I’ve seen pictures of his handiwork, and I’m not a fan.
My kidnapper is totally calm, as if he doesn’t feel fear or have any instinct for survival. He wants me for some reason and is willing to risk everything to get me. He tells Wade, “Tell them to lower their weapons. Do it now.”
A deep voice comes from behind, just as a massive hand wraps around my abductor’s wrist and yanks his arm away. I don’t know who came to my rescue, but I know I need to put as much distance as possible between me and the man who looks like my dad. I start running towards the prospects, who surge forward to meet me. Only when they get to me, they keep running towards the grappling pair.
That’s when I realize the man who stepped in is Crow, the brother they left in charge of the clubhouse. He’s supervising the prospects while the others are gone. Crow and my would-be abductor are in a knockdown fight. For an older man, my abductor is vicious. But it doesn’t take long for Crow to gain the upper hand. When he does, he doesn’t let up. I almost feel bad for the older man when Crow has him on the ground, kicking him in his side.
Almost… but not quite.
When Wade raises his gun, Crow throws his hand up. “Don’t shoot him. I’m pretty sure Siege and Rigs are gonna want to beat some fucking information out of this one.”
They roll him over and zip-tie his hands behind his back. When they jerk him to his feet, Crow just shakes his head. “You’re good at looking tough, but it’s pretty damn clear you haven’t had your ass beat nearly enough in life.”
Wade backhands my would-be abductor across the face when he tries to break free of their hold. “Stupid fucker’s clearly spent way too much of his time focused on looking mean and beating on women to be any real use in a fight.”
Once he’s properly subdued, I walk up and stare at him from a couple of yards away.
Wade says, “You got something you want to say to this fucker? Now’s the time.”
Another prospect chimes in, “Better say it while you can, girlie. Because I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure his ticket gets punched real fast when the brothers get back.”
Looking from the prospects and then to the asshole they just zip-tied, I ask, “Why? Why are you doing this? And why me? What did I ever do to you?”
He has a look of pure disgust on his face. “Don’t ask stupid questions, girl. You know why. Or at least you should, if your old man did right by you.”
“What do you mean? He did do right by me.”
An evil grin spreads across his face. “You don’t know, do you? Well, I’m not obligated to tell you a damn thing.”
Crow speaks up. “Take him to the lockup. Standing out here in the cold trying to talk sense to an idiot ain’t no way to spend our time.”
Wade and the other prospect jerk him forward and walk off with him. “We need to call Zen and let him know there might be more than one guy,” Wade says.
Honestly, it never occurred to me that we might be dealing with more than one perp. It hits me hard and fast that this is the piece we’ve been missing. When the details didn’t quite add up, it was because more than one person was involved. My mind goes back to what he said just before he tased me, MadHitter… Terry. His son is Terrance Harris.
I’ve been speaking to my father’s killer or his son for years.
Crow takes out his phone and calls Siege. They talk for a bit, then he hands the phone to me.
“Hello, Siege, it’s Lexi.”
“Do you know this fucker? Yes, or no?”
“No. He’s wearing a scarred-up version of my father’s face, though, so I’m gonna assume we’re related.”
Zen’s voice sounds loud and clear, alerting me that I’m on speakerphone. “Were you aware that your dad had a twin brother?”
“No. Of course not. I would have said something if I had known. There’s something else you should know. I have an online friend from Australia who called, saying he was passing through. He wanted me to meet up with him and grab some coffee.”
“Tell me you did not meet with a total stranger while you’re in the middle of being stalked,” Zen responds with concern in his voice.
“I may be many things, but I’m not stupid. I told him no way. But then the guy who honestly looks enough like my father to be his twin said something weird. He said I should have taken Terry up on that invitation to get coffee because it would have made it easier for him to abduct me while I was in transit. The guy I’ve been talking to for several years with the online name ‘MadHitter’ is this man’s son, which would make him my cousin. Do you see how sick and twisted this is getting? MadHitter is Terrance Harris.”
Zen’s voice morphs into active anger. “You mean because a biological relative was making cut-and-paste comics of you with a nude body?”
“None of the images he cobbled together look like my actual body, but just the fact he went there is gross.”
“Roger that,” Siege agrees. “Is there anything else we should know?”
“I got the strong feeling that although the two of them hate women in general, and one or both of them have a history of killing random women, their main interest in me was killing me. The guy we captured said my father should have warned me, and implied it was his duty to do so. I remember when my dad locked me in the safe room, he apologized and said there was so much he should have told me. I’m scared because I don’t know what all this means.”
A short silence spins out, and then Siege speaks. “Crow, take Lexi back to the clubhouse. I want you to be eyes-on with her until we get back. Terrance Harris is still in the wind, and we need to get him.”
I panic and rush to add, “Please be careful. I have a bad feeling about this situation.”
Rigs speaks for the first time. “There sure the hell is enough going on with this situation to give us all a bad gut feeling. Don’t worry, Miss Lexi. We’ll look out for each other.”
When the screen goes black, Crow jerks his chin towards the clubhouse. “We’d best get you back to the clubhouse where you’ll be safe.”
We walk back in silence. “Come with me. I’m gonna go down and make sure the asshole who tried to abduct you is locked up and being guarded properly. Then we’ll head back up to the bar and you can get yourself a nice fluffy drink with a little umbrella in it.”
Although that doesn’t sound appealing, because my stomach is churning, I let it slide. Right now, things are all wonky. These guys just saved me from getting abducted, and they’re doing everything possible to set things right again. I need to just go with the flow and not make any trouble until Zen gets back.
Truth be told, I’m still weirded out by the fact that my father had a twin. My feet come to a stop while I’m walking, almost making me trip as I realize the reason my father was tracking this guy so long and hard—he didn’t want the man wearing his face to be terrorizing and killing women. I mean, it had to be the father because some of the killings went back years. His son would be my age. If he were older, it wouldn’t be by much, because my mother had me when my dad was about twenty-five.
Crow stops walking and turns to me. “What’s up, Lexi? Why’d you stop walking?”
“Zen and I have been thinking Terrance Harris is the serial killer. Now that I’ve met his father, I know he’s much younger than we thought. Some of the murders we found on the flash drives were years ago. That means his dad has to be the serial killer.”
“If that’s true, you did the world a favor by getting us involved. We’ll make sure he doesn’t end up on the streets to kill again. Let’s get going. I want to make sure this asshole is locked down tight.”
“I’ll stay right with you this time,” I assure him.
“It’s fine. Once we check on him, you can do as you like, and it’s my responsibility to stay right with you.”
I flash him a tired smile, because this guy has a quirky sense of humor. “I like the symmetry involved there.”
We go downstairs to what can only be described as a tiny jail cell. “So this is what you do with your bad boys, right?”
Crow’s head cranks around to look at me, and he grins. “By rights, we’d all be considered bad boys here. The cell is reserved for those individuals who are too violent to be shown any hospitality by our club. It’s for our enemies.”
I nod. “This guy wearing my father’s face definitely qualifies as an enemy.”
“With any luck, Zen, Rigs, Siege, and the others will catch up with the other one at some point today, and we can get to the bottom of this.”
I wait in the middle of the basement and watch him check in with the prospects and double-check the lock on the door. Then we head upstairs to the bar area. I can see Cindy and Kayla sitting at one of the tables, looking bored. I glance up at Crow, and he gives an indulgent jerk of his chin in their direction. “Go on. Sit with your friends. I’ll be keeping an eye on you from the bar.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, and practically run over to them.