Chapter 8
Goliath
Thirteen Hours Ago…
Granny shuffles back and forth in her tiny kitchen, wearing a red robe and candy-cane-striped fuzzy socks. The room is barely bigger than a utility closet, but it’s all she’s ever needed, so she says. She’s an adorable sight, one I missed the last seven years, along with the delicious breakfast she made me. Nobody makes cheesy grits better than her.
From the three-person dinette covered in a Christmassy tablecloth, my gaze follows her every step. She goes to the gold eighties fridge, the one she refuses to upgrade for a modern version, removes boxes of butter for her sweet potato casseroles, then places them on the avocado-green seventies Formica countertop. She forever lives in the past, and I can’t say I blame her. Life today is fucking complicated.
I narrow my eyes and study her brown linoleum floors, which have seen better days. From my vantage point, I spot some squares with raised corners, and a few are curled. It’s so much worse than the last time I was here.
“I’m gonna replace the floors before you trip and break your hip,” I say as I fork another massive bite. “What kind do ya want? Lino again or real wood? Heck, we can even do tile if you want.” I fill my mouth and wait for her response. No surprise, I don’t get one.
Granny ignores me, going about her business as if she doesn’t hear a word I’m saying. Avoidance has always been her tactic when she doesn’t like something, as it is for most people. Naturally, she’ll try to talk me out of fixing up her humble abode. Refuse to take the dirty money I earn from the club, but that’s not the case this time. I’m legit now, working at Strike’s contracting business.
I don’t tell her as much because it won’t matter. Granny wants me in her town instead of a couple of hours away. That’s why the goddamn floors will be replaced before Christmas, so I won’t worry about her.
What am I saying? She’s my only living blood relative, my sweet Granny. Damn straight I’m going to worry about her every second of every day. Wish I could be in two places at one time…
I return my attention to her. It’s so like her to get a jump start on cooking weeks before the Christmas potluck at her church. ‘Early bird gets the worm’ is her motto.
And Christmas is her favorite holiday. The decorations begin appearing right after she puts her Halloween stuff away. The other holidays are barely acknowledged, even Thanksgiving. Christmas is what makes Granny’s heart happy, as she always says. So much so, she starts her countdown the day after New Year’s.
Her movements are hypnotic when mixed with the scent of sweet potato casserole. Nothing better than cinnamon wafting in the air and Granny’s gentle hum. Just being in her home relaxes me, and I ease back in my chair and exhale.
Damn, I’ve missed her something awful. Gramps too. I don’t have parents or siblings, only the MC and Granny… Memories of beautiful Alex stir deep in my soul. Maybe our paths will cross again, and we can see where things—
“About time you came to see me, Braxton.” Granny shakes her head as she drains a can of sweet potatoes. “Where you been all month?”
“I’ve been working. The club—”
“The club isn’t more important than me,” she shoots back before I can make up a lame excuse. Granny doesn’t know the shit I’ve been dealing with the past few weeks, nor should she. I’ve done my best to keep her out of the MC. Nobody knows about her except for Miller. He and I go way back. We have a history since before we patched into the Hell’s Jokers MC.
“Your biker friends are bad news, Braxton. I saw the news.” She waves her finger at me. “Those Santas were you and your friends, weren’t they?”
“I swear. We had nothing to do with it.”
“Pfft, never mind. Knowing you were there is enough to send me to an early grave.” She is an itty-bitty thing, spunky as hell, and has a heart of gold. But that doesn’t mean she won’t speak her mind.
“You’re right.”
“Come again.” She places her hand at her ear and leans toward me.
“You’re right, Granny, as always. Nobody is more important than you.” As the words leave my lips, my phone rings, and I promptly answer when I see Miller’s number. “Yeah?”
“Brother, we need a private meeting,” he says in a quiet voice. “Where you at?”
“Granny’s. Everything okay?” It’s a dumb question. He wouldn’t be asking for a private meeting or whispering if things were good.
“We have a rat in the club.”
“No fucking way!” A hearty laugh bursts from my chest because he’s surely pulling my leg.
“Mercy, I hope you don’t kiss Mrs. Claus with that mouth,” Granny chides, and I immediately think of Alex. Didn’t she holler something similar? No doubt, those two would get along well if they got to meet each other—like two peas in a pod.
“Sorry, Granny,” I reply without looking at her. A rat in the club repeats in my head. It’s absurd, but Miller’s silence makes the muscles in my shoulders lock up and my laughter dies in my throat. “Prez?”
“Meet me at the shack,” he hisses into the phone.
Now he has my full attention. We didn’t talk about the shack. Ever. Nobody in the club knows about it. My blood turns cold as I get to my feet. “It must be bad.”
“Deadly,” he says.
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
Miller ends the call without another word. He’s a lot more serious now that he’s president. Being the leader of an outlaw biker club is an honor, but it’s also a heavy burden. He’s responsible for everyone’s safety, and if there is a goddamn rat in the club, Miller will question every person’s loyalty.
I turn toward Granny. Her hand is resting on her hip as she stares at me.
“The club needs you.” It’s not a question, and the resolve in her blue eyes hurts me.
“Yeah.”
“Then you best get going.” She shuffles my way and captures my face in her cold hands. “Maybe if you found yourself a nice girl, you wouldn’t play with that club anymore.”
“Granny, please.” I doubt she will ever understand what the MC means to me.
“Start a family, Braxton. Gimme some great-grandbabies to brag about at church. I’m the only one there with nobody to talk about.” Her words slay me. All she wants for me is a traditional Southern life. To be a family man. To go to church with her. I can’t do any of that. I’m a Joker. An outlaw biker who’s done time. It hurts me to disappoint her, but I must…
“I doubt I’ll ever find a nice girl. You know I don’t run in nice crowds, Granny. It’s time you accept who I am and who I’ll never be.” And with those final words, I dash out of her home to meet up with my president to hear what he has to say about the rat in the club.
One name enters my head: Wash.
Just before noon, I arrive deep in the woods at the designated location and hide my hog behind some overgrown bushes. Even in broad daylight, the shack unnerves me. We were just a couple of cocky high school kids when our lives changed that fateful day. After the gruesome murder, the blood on our hands made us brothers for life.
I stalk toward the shanty deep in the Alabama woods. Miller’s bike is nowhere in sight. Of course, I’m here first. Granny’s home is closer than the club.
Dry leaves crunch under my boots as bright sunbeams poke through the bare branches overhead.
The air is crisp, and I can smell the rain that’s on its way. Not going to lie, the setting before me is the kind in slasher movies. I didn’t like being here back when I was a teenager, and I don’t now. Getting chopped into pieces with a machete isn’t on my list of fun things to experience.
I freeze when a flock of birds breaks out of the treetops, startling me. Dialing into my surroundings, I hear the motor of a truck. I bolt behind a large oak tree to hide and hold my breath.
My heart rate kicks up a few notches, then quickly drops back to normal when I recognize Miller’s truck. Strange that he drove it instead of his hog. He puts the Ford into park and gets out. The passenger door opens next, and that’s when I notice Drake.
“Fuck, I hoped to never be back here.” Miller spits on the ground.
“Same.” I reveal myself and move toward them. “Gotta say, this place gives me the creeps.”
Miller jerks his chin at me. “Like the dead will crawl out of the ground to drag us straight to hell with them.”
“Something like that.” I cut my gaze at Drake. “Wasn’t expecting you.”
“He’s the one who found out about the rat while at county.” Miller pats Drake’s back. “He overheard inmates talking about Wash trading favors with a Mafia family.”
“Fuck, I knew he was the rat! But the Mafia?” Jesus, the two working together were nowhere on my radar.
“Let’s bring him up to speed before our guests arrive.” Miller takes out his phone and types out a message.
“What guests?” My mind races to piece together what the fuck is going on and why we are at the shack. It’s pointless. I need more information.
“The Allegrini brothers from New York. They flew out this morning to have a face-to-face with me. They will be here shortly, and then you’re going back with them.”
“Hold the fuck up! I’m on probation. I can’t leave the county, much less the state.”
“Tell him,” Miller says to Drake.
“I’ve been doing a lot of digging, and it turns out the Allegrini famiglia has one of their own living in Alabama. A pretty little elf who works at the law office that we and a number of other not-so-clean people utilize from time to time. It wasn’t easy, but I found out her birth name is Alessandra Allegrini.”
“No wonder she seemed to know how to protect herself.” Alex . I can’t help but grin as I think about that day in the parking garage. She’d saved my ass, and I hope to get the chance to thank her properly.
“The more I dug into things after hearing Wash’s name, I discovered messages between him and Carlo Allegrini, the family’s consigliere . He’s her goddamn uncle.” Drake pulls out his smokes and lights one.
My eyes bulge out of my skull.
“He paid Wash an obscene amount of money to take her out so his firstborn can be head of the family.” Miller takes a cancer stick from Drake and puts it between his lips. “I’m going to kill the fucker for betraying the club.”
An icy chill bolts down my spine. Miller will do it, too. Make an example of Wash in front of the entire club. Rage instantly replaces the cold in my veins. “Wash is after my elf. Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Miller blows out a long drag. “Her cousins figured out their dad’s plan and contacted me. They want to stop him by any means necessary. I figure no one better than you, given your recent encounter with her in the back of a pickup.”
“You figured right.” I don’t know what it is about this woman, but a protectiveness I’ve never felt before floods my veins. The thought of Wash and her own uncle trying to kill her makes me crazy. I will lose my mind if I don’t get her back in one piece.
Unharmed.
Alive.
Tonight.
Just then, a black SUV rolls up behind Miller’s truck.
“That’s them,” Prez says and snuffs out his cigarette. “Keep quiet, both of you.”
I glare at him, but he’s the boss and I’ll do as he says.
Two men exit the Range Rover, wearing expensive black suits and dark shades. They look like the Mafia. Cool and confident. Lethal.
“Thank you for arranging the meeting,” one says. “I’m Dante Allegrini, and this is my younger brother, Enzo.” That explains why he’s doing all the talking. Just like in MCs, there is a hierarchy in Mafia families.
Miller extends a hand toward Dante. “Your call was intriguing. I don’t take well to having one of my own betraying me.”
“Me either, and it’s hard to know who to trust right now.” Dante shakes Miller’s hand. “Things have gotten complicated; we’ve never been blindsided like this, so of course it came from an inside job. Bastardos . I assumed you’d be keen to know of the rats.” He flicks his gaze between us, saying, “I want you to do whatever it takes to protect our cousin. She is the rightful heir and successor following her father’s retirement or death.”
“Is that what she wants?” I ask as though I know her better than her own family.
Enzo grins. “Goliath, right?”
“Yes, and how do you know my road name?”
“When she cried it out during a dream after the shooting.” Enzo and the others study me. “I was right, judging by the blush in your cheeks, you know my cousin intimately.”
My face heats even more as they scrutinize me.
“We don’t care, so long as you protect her with your life,” Dante says. “But if you hurt her, we’ll come after you.”
“He won’t,” Miller replies for me. “What’s the plan?”
Dante clears his throat and begins talking. All I hear is a story about thieves in the night stealing a sleeping princess, then torching the castle. Wash plans to ransom Alex, then kill her and her father. Rabbit and Dawg are helping him. It’s all making sense now… “No one is aware, but when my cousin moved away, my uncle ordered me to have a tracker placed in the tiny diamond necklace that Alessandra never removes. It was our grandmother’s; my uncle knew it would be the only way to get her to never take it off. I can’t have our tech guys search for her; I don’t trust anyone right now around our famiglia , so no one can know about it because it may be the only way we ever find her. I’ll give you the company’s name that monitors it. Do you have someone capable of hacking their system and pinging her location?”
“Of course,” Miller’s saying, but I can’t think straight enough to hear all of it. Our VP is a dead man. Once I have Alex, Alessandra Allegrini , in my possession, I’m dealing with Wash… if Miller doesn’t get to him first. Either way, that motherfucker is dying. He won’t live to see another Christmas; I’ll make certain of it.
Alessandra . It doesn’t fit, given how fucking hot and badass she was the day our lives collided. I can see Harley or Zelda. Or Elsa, from that movie one of the inmates mentioned his kid being obsessed with, except my Elsa is a brunette elf with perfect tits. A Mafia princess.
“Drake will go with Goliath. They’ll intercept the kidnappers and protect Alex.”
“Good.” Dante nods, eyeing me up and down. “I don’t see it.”
“See what?” I grit my teeth and roll my hands into fists, not appreciating his judgmental tone.
“The appeal. Alex is refined. Educated. Way out of your class.”
“I see it,” Enzo says. “He’s not like us, but still alpha, and apparently, she dreams about their time together, so obviously a good fuck.”
Miller and Drake burst out laughing.
I raise my hands and gift them Twin Birds as I mutter, “Fuckers.” I stalk away, heading for the luxury SUV. They can tease all they want, but nothing they say will distract me.
I have one purpose.
I won’t fail.
Save Alex.
Alessandra (Alex)
Tears roll down my face as I listen to the men gloat about their success. The one with a horrible Brooklyn accent is the most crude and obnoxious. “Why would anyone care if I had my way with her? After the boss gets his money and we get ours, she’s ground fertilizer.”
Holy terror explodes inside me as the men laugh and give him the green light to do as he pleases—because they’ll never tell.
“I’ll pull over once we’re in the next town,” the driver says.
“I can’t wait.” Sausage Fingers undoes his belt. It’s so dark, I can’t see my surroundings. Maybe there’s something I can use as a weapon to defend myself.
I feel around on the bed of the van, but it’s bare. Next, I check the area behind me, hoping to not catch his attention. Again, nothing.
“Gag her so we don’t have to listen to her scream,” the one in the passenger seat says. “I hate hearing chicks scream.”
“Because you’ve forced yourself on them before?” the driver asks. “Guess that’s one way to get pussy.”
“Shut up!” the passenger shouts.
“I can knock her out.” The large man towers over me and raises his fist.
I shriek back; my heart is thundering now. I can’t believe my fate. These assholes ripped me straight out of my bed. Plan to rape me, then ransom me, and finally kill me. This is why I don’t want any part of the family.
“Look at this son of a bitch with his brights on,” the driver shouts, stealing the attention away from me.
“What’s going on?” Sausage Fingers asks.
Relief washes over me, but I know I’m not out of the woods yet.
“Flash him back,” the passenger orders.
“He’s driving down the middle of the goddamn road!”
“I think he’s trying to hit us!” the driver yells.
“Swerve, dumbass!”
“There’s no shoulder!”
“Put it in reverse!”
The barking of orders gets louder and louder. I can hear their fear, and it makes me damn happy. So, I brace for impact as best I can, finding a rope hanging on the side wall. I doubt it will help if the van flips, but hey, it’s something.
A horn blares.
The men yell.
And I grab my stomach with my free hand in a protective way.
The crunch of metal smashing into metal is horrifyingly loud. I’m thrown to the side at impact and into the New Yorker, his burly body acts like a firm mattress. I grab onto his thick hair and pound his head against the floor, over and over, to ensure he’s unconscious. He is.
We’re moving backwards, and I don’t hear any noise from the other men. Why isn’t the driver slamming on the brakes? Is he knocked out?
Suddenly, we jerk to a stop, and I make my escape. I push open the side door, but it won’t budge. I scramble toward the back and get it to open. Climbing out, I get my first real breath of freedom and force myself to run, but my thigh screams at me. The pain is so intense, my knee buckles, and I hit the pavement.
Heavy footsteps pound the asphalt.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The gunshots ring in my ears. Holy terror bursts inside me. I’m next…
Dragging myself toward the side of the road to hide in the bushes, I scrape the flesh right off my legs. Never again will I wear satin nightgowns. It’s sweatpants from now on.
I steal a quick glance over my shoulder and catch a masked man running toward me. He’s massive—like the man who haunts my dreams.
“No!” I scream, picking up speed and not caring about the gravel cutting into my palms. “Stay away! Don’t hurt me! My family will kill you!”
“Alex, it’s me! Baby, it’s Goliath.” His words, the sound of his voice, both register in my head.
I freeze. “Goliath?” A sob bubbles out of me as he scoops me off the ground.
“Yes, baby. You’re safe.” He holds me firmly against his broad chest. “You’re safe.”
“H-How did you know?” I cry, fisting his black sweatshirt and thanking the heavens for showing me mercy.
“Shh, not now. Our ride is here.”
A car pulls up. Goliath opens the back door and gets in, keeping me in his arms. With a free hand, he removes his mask. He is much more handsome than I remember.
“Where do you hurt?” he asks as he inspects me.
“All over, but I’ll be okay.”
“They’ll never lay a hand on you again.” He pulls me in close and kisses the side of my head.
“I heard how you dealt with them. I’m glad. One was about to rape me.”
A murderous glint flashes in his blue eyes.
“But you came just in the nick of time.” Instantly, my family enters my mind. “My papá and mamá! The fire. We must go back to help them!” I attempt to crawl off his lap, but he’s having none of that.
“Alex, we need to get out of New York. We have orders to take you somewhere safe until the madness is all over. A private jet is waiting for us.”
“But my parents need me! Please, Goliath! Please go back.” More tears stream down my face, but it’s like he doesn’t even see them.
“I’m sorry, but we have orders. Dante will make sure they get out unharmed.” He captures my face in his gloved hands, and his lips descend on mine in a powerful kiss. He’s not gentle or rough. Just perfect as I can remember.
Dante? How does he know my cousin? Just the mere mention puts me at peace.
My mouth opens for Goliath, and our tongues meet, and I forget how or why either of us is here. I trust this man with my life, and that’s saying something, as I trust so few.
We kiss with sizzling abandon, moaning into each other’s mouths and pawing at our bodies. His heart pounds against my arm like mine is against his. The windows fog up with our heavy breathing.
And I’m happy.
I don’t even care about the driver chuckling in the front seat.
Goliath came for me like an answer to prayer.
“When we get to where we’re going, you need to tell me everything,” I tell him in a firm voice.
“Absolutely, but after I clean you up, mend your wounds, and satisfy you in every way.” He brushes my dark hair away from my face and lightly pecks my lips.
“Will you put on your Santa suit and let me sit on your lap?” I tease him, relaxing more now that I’m safe.
“I’d rather you sit on my face.” He wiggles his eyebrows.
“You are a naughty one. I like that.” I settle my head on his shoulder and exhale, placing my hand on my stomach.
“Baby, you ain’t seen nothing yet. When we get to the safe house, we’ll have all the time in the world to play Naughty or Nice.”
“Never heard of that game before. Sounds intriguing. Where’s the safe house?”
“In Alabama. I can’t wait for you to meet my Granny.”
I pop up and stare him in the face. “We’re going to your Granny’s house?”
“Yes, ma’am. And you’ll love her.” Just like that, my dirty fantasies of Goliath and me doing the nasty go up in smoke.
“I’m sure I will.”
“I can feel your disappointment.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. Let me assure you she won’t hear a thing. You can be as loud as you want. My room is soundproof.” He clicks his tongue and captures my lips again. This time, I vow not to talk so he won’t stop kissing me… until we get to Granny’s, anyway.