4. Cupid
CHAPTER FOUR
CUPID
Alittle over thirty minutes later, I’m back in Loveland, rolling up in front of Whiskey Wheelers—the bar I own and our club runs.
When setting up our new chapter in this town, I decided we needed a front to hide our more seedy operations.
A bar seemed like the easiest and fastest way to grow a legitimate business in a tourist hotspot.
Picking an old brick municipal building downtown gave my bar an industrial feel that fit our MC’s aesthetics and gave us an edgy vibe in the historic district, helping us stand out amongst the competition.
Good food and strong drinks made Whiskey Wheelers a local favorite and a profitable side gig.
It also helps with washing funds from our gun smuggling, making every transaction we do harder to trace.
As my bar grew in popularity, my wallet got fatter, allowing me to buy up the surrounding buildings to expand our growing club.
Though we’re still in the renovation stage of most of the newly purchased building, the bar and sleeping quarters for our crew are done.
With our club consuming the entire city block, it keeps outsiders from seeing when and how weapons are brought in and shipped out.
I line my hog up along the curb besides my brothers’ bikes before heading inside.
I pass through the front of the restaurant and bar, ignoring the stares of patrons eyeing me nervously as they eat and enjoy their happy hour.
The leather cut with the Royal Bastards patches has that effect on most unaffiliated with our crew.
After having a quick word with Cigs—my bar manager and one of our longest-running RBMC brothers—checking in to make sure all is well with the restaurant and customers, I follow the narrow hallway past the restrooms and kitchen to the back stairwell.
I head upstairs where my office and the RBMC private bar are located.
It’s where we run most of our club business and church meetings.
The third floor is my private apartment, my comfortable sanctuary to retreat to.
A few of my brothers greet me as I enter the bar, enjoying the end of the day with a stiff drink. I nod, acknowledging them before scanning the room for Oaks. When he spots me, he gives Marlene a quick peck goodbye before following me into my office.
He huffs his annoyance, closing the door behind us. “About time you showed your ass around here. The Durango chapter is waiting for your virtual invite.”
Rolling my eyes, I open my laptop. “Get off my nuts, will you? I’m not over ten minutes late. I wanted to make sure all was well on the ground level with Cigs first.”
Oaks taps at his watch, giving me a pointed look. “Still late. And let’s be real. Cigs isn’t the one that held you up. I hope the pussy was worth getting your ass chewed out by Rock.”
With a grimace, I type on my laptop, setting up the meeting invite. “I didn’t get any. She got away.”
My friend stares at me in silence for a hard second before bursting into a fit of laughter loud enough to make my ears ring. “Bawhahah! For real?! Oh, that’s too fucking good.”
As I send the invite to Rock, I give Oaks the bird. “Asshole.”
“The fuck did you call me, Cupid?!”
Ah shit. I didn’t realize Rock had already accepted my invitation to the virtual meeting.
Clearly, Vanessa is messing with my head. I keep stepping in it today.
“Not you, Rock,” I say quickly, hoping to avoid a confrontation. “I was referring to Oaks.”
Oaks pops his head over my shoulder to get on camera. “Don’t mind his ornery ass. He’s just bent about a woman out riding him.”
Rock snorts. “You let a girl beat you on a bike?”
“You had to be there. She was a terror on two wheels,” I say, defending myself.
“Sounds like a woman worth pursuing,” Rock says, amused.
I nod, agreeing. “I’m working on it.”
“Speaking of work…” Rock talks logistics for moving the weapons from Durango to Loveland. The operation is fairly simple, and one we have done many times before.
“Sounds like a plan. When should we expect the shipment?”
“Friday evening. We’ll bring the goods in a liquor distributor truck. Do you want us to pull around the back of your bar like we did before?”
“Yeah, the alley has no city cameras, unlike the main road.”
“Fair enough. Best to avoid those.”
“Do we have a buyer lined up, or should I be reaching out to Kodiak at the Helena chapter like we did last time?”
“We have a buyer. Some mafia don in Denver—Piero Bianchi.”
I frown. “We’re bartering with the Bianchi mod now?”
“Jameson approved it,” Rock says, shrugging. “I guess the young don is all about forming good business relationships with local bikers. Word on the street is he’s tight with one MC here in Colorado, referring to them as family.”
Interesting.
“I’ll let Jameson know we’re good to go. Keep the National Chapter in the loop.”
I’m a moment away from disconnecting the chat—eager to track down Vanessa—when Rock hits me with some unpleasant news.
“Have you heard about the latest abducted students from CSU?”
I freeze, already hating the direction this conversation is taking. “Are you telling me the Black Market Railroad is pinching women thirty minutes from my club?”
The Black Market Railroad is a sex trafficking ring established by the Russians. More than once, these fuckers have screwed with our MC, taking women that don’t belong to them and doing the unthinkable. It’s not something Royal Bastards tolerate—ever.
“Considering that local mercenary MC in Fort Collins—what are they called again?”
“Mercy Ravens,” I answer, grinding my molars as I remember my first encounter with the bikers.
“That’s right,” Rock says, snapping his fingers as he recalls the MC. “They cleared out the Irish Flesh Trade back in November, but it looks like someone moved into the territory to pick up where the Irish left off. The Russians have been branching out west—the chance it’s them isn’t farfetched.”
Fucking great. I run a hand down my face in frustration. “How many women were taken?”
“Seven.”
I baulk. “The hell?! Seven?”
“Yup. Three were grabbed on their way home from night classes, two went missing along a hiking trail near the campus, and the other two were nabbed after walking home from a bar near Plum Street. All separate abductions occurring within weeks of each other.”
My nostrils flare with annoyance. “The Russians have a lot of damn nerve coming around us.”
“Agreed. Keep your ear to the ground. See if you can find out anything about their whereabouts. If you catch wind of where they’re stationed, you can call us in for backup. We’d love to help clean up.”
“Noted. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Sounds good, brother. Maybe keep a closer eye on this woman you’re keen on, at least until we find out who is behind these abductions.”
“You read my mind.”
After leaving the meeting, I sit back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose.
“Goddamn traffickers,” Oaks grumbles, plopping into the chair across from me. “You want me to put out feelers, see what people are saying on the streets? Maybe Kenny has some insight.”
Kenny is the local opioid dealer down on 4th Street, used to dealing with some of the shadier characters in Northern Colorado. He’s a weasel, but he’s full of valuable intel.
“He’s definitely someone worth asking,” I say, straightening in my seat and reaching for my cell on my desk. “Ask him what he knows. If he says he’s heard nothing, ask him to ask around.”
“On it. What are you going to do?”
“Vanessa—the woman I was chasing—she got off in Fort Collins and was heading toward CSU.”
Oaks’ eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “Crap. Do you think she’s a college student or just lives near the university?”
“No clue. But I’m going to ask Cole down at the station to give me intel on the abductions and on Vanessa.” I tap my head. “I’ve got her registration plate memorized.”
“Smart,” Oaks says, standing from his seat and heading for the door. “I’m going to hit the streets with a few prospects, see what we can find out.”
As soon as Oaks leaves my office, I’m dialing Cole. He answers on the first ring.
“What do you want?” he clips on the other end of the line.
I cluck my tongue. “Hello to you too, Cole.”
“Just spit it out. What do you need from me?”
“Now, Cole,” I say, hiding the humor in my voice, “is this any way to speak to a man who has dirt on you?”
A month after moving to Loveland, me and Oaks agreed we would need a rat in law enforcement to keep us off the police radar and to do our bidding as we saw fit.
We kept tabs on the detectives at the local police station, seeing which one had a secret they wanted to keep from being exposed.
It took less than a week to find Cole hitting on a redhead at the bar and checking into a dodgy motel on the outside of the city limits with her on his arm.
Considering Cole’s wife is a brunette, we had him by his short curls.
A picture is worth a thousand words, and we had an envelope full of them. Cole agreed to be our informant with no fanfare—he was desperate to keep his wife in the dark, saying it was a onetime thing and he loved his wife.
Suited us fine enough—we had our rat and his wife got a more devoted version of her husband.
Cole sighs on the other end of the line. “What can I do for you?”
“That’s better. I need you to run a plate.” I ramble off Vanessa’s plate.
The sound of fingers typing away on a keyboard filters through the line as I wait for Cole to report his findings.
“Vanessa Wright. Age: twenty-three. Address: 417 East Laurel Street, Apartment 7, Fort Collins, Colorado. No record, not even a parking ticket.”
I scribble down her address, snickering to myself.
There’s no way the woman I was riding with today was speeding at the rate she was for the first time in her life.
The way she has control of her bike at high speeds makes her an experienced speed demon.
The only reason Vanessa has no record is probably more to do with the police not being able to catch her than the likelihood of her being a law-abiding citizen of the road.
“Is that all? Cole asks impatiently, eager to get me off the phone.
“Not quite. What can you tell me about the women who were recently abducted from CSU?”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. “Please tell me this has nothing to do with you. I don’t want to be associated with or cover up for sickos who take women.”
I scoff. “It’s insulting that you ask if I abduct innocent people. I’m a lot of things, most of them bad, but I’m not a kidnapper. Royal Bastards don’t deal in human trafficking.”
“Bikers with a moral compass. How rich?” Cole mumbles.
“Insult me one more time and I’m hand-delivering some redhead highlights to your wife,” I warn, having tolerated his attitude long enough. “Now give me the information I want.”
“Fuck. Fine.”
Cole reads through the seven reports shared with their department from the Fort Collins police.
“City cameras show an unmarked white cargo van with a dent in the rear fender, speeding up behind the victims. The driver stays seated while two men from the back jump out, grab the women, drag them back to the van where they throw them inside, climb in, and take off. In five of the incidents, the attackers grabbed the women and were gone in less than a minute. The two from the trail obviously weren’t caught on camera.
However, police discovered tire tracks along the trail—possibly linked to the van—and cameras along the nearest roads leading away from the trail show the same van from the other abductions. ”
“These are pros then,” I say, cursing to myself. “Aside from the two on the hiking trail, where around campus did these other abductions happen?”
“One happened on West Pitkin Street. Another was on South Shields Street. Two occurred on Plum Street. And the latest was on Prospect Road.”
My fingers fly across my notepad, jotting every detail Cole gives me. “Do the police have any clue who’s behind these abductions?”
“If they do, they aren’t in the report. The only other note worth mentioning is that the Fort Collins Police are working closely with Mercy Ravens Security to get to the bottom of it.”
Fuck my luck. “Mercy Ravens Security? As in the Mercy Ravens MC?”
“One and the same. They’re former military, specifically trained on tracking people down.”
“So I’ve heard,” I grumble. “Keep me updated if anything is added to the report, will you?”
“Yeah, sure.” Cole disconnects quickly.
Processing all the information my informant shared, I realize why the Mercy Ravens I encountered today were hostile.
I was chasing a young woman in their city where young women are being taken.
Her saying she didn’t know me and that I was following her was problematic.
The last thing I need is this MC to think me or my club has anything to do with these abductions.
I look down at Vanessa’s address, curling it in my hand.
First, I need to go to her and get into her good graces. The sooner I do that, the sooner I can have her next to me and out of harm’s way.
Second, I need to reach out to Atlas, letting the Mercy Ravens know my crew is as eager to get to the bottom of the abductions as they are. I will enter their city to get to my Butterfly—it’s best if we’re in good standing.
And three, I need to hunt down these trafficking pieces of shit, letting them know they have no place in our state.