Chapter 22
Twenty-Two
Goddammit. What else did that asshole say to her? Why can’t he just keep his mouth shut? He knows that club business shouldn’t be discussed with people who aren’t members. And Layne? Layne is definitely not a club member.
I stomp across the grounds, past the garage, to Paxton’s cottage. Once I get there, I march in without knocking.
“What the fuck, man?” I shout as I open the door.
Colton sits on the couch, one foot propped up on the coffee table. As soon as he sees me, he sits up straight and holds up his hands.
“What? Did she come crying?” Pax looks up at me from behind the kitchen island.
“What are you talking about?” I turn to face him.
“I assume you’re barging in like this because of Layne?” He raises his eyebrows with an arrogant look.
Shaking my head, I step closer to him. “You know we don’t discuss club business with outsiders.”
“First, why the hell are you in my house with your boots on? Second, she’s not a real outsider, she’s just not a member. And third, I haven’t told her a goddamn thing.” He gives my boots a pointed look.
Exasperated, I walk back to the door and pull them off. When I re-enter the room, I say, “She was upset.”
“True that,” Colt adds. I got no idea how he knows that, but whatever.
“She was quietly crying by the door and then asked me what I knew that she didn’t. Care to explain?” I widen my eyes and hold my hands questioningly in the air.
My brother lets out a dramatic sigh. “All these bitches are so damn dramatic.”
“Damn it, Pax, seriously. I want a fucking answer, because I swear I’m going to punch you in the face.” I take a threatening step in his direction and clench my fists to emphasize my words.
He puts his hands up defensively. “Calm down, man. She came to ask what my problem with her was.”
“And what is your problem with her?” I ask after a few seconds of silence.
“That she’s always bringing trouble. And that’s exactly what I said.”
“You said she screwed us over,” I conclude.
“She fuckin’ did.” Pax raises his voice and Colt comes over and stands next to me.
“You don’t know that,” he says softly to Paxton, who then turns his gaze to his best friend. “You don’t know if she knew. Or if she knows.”
“Knows what?” Frowning, I flex my hand. I feel like I’m missing something. Something big.
Colt gives Pax a piercing look, then turns to me and says, “We were about to call you and Brooks. The others are on their way.”
What the fuck is going on? “The table or first …”
“First here, because we want you and Brooks to be informed before we inform the rest of the MC,” Colt says, and Pax nods.
What the fuck have they discovered? Why’s Pax accusing my girl of setting us up?
Fortunately, it doesn’t take long for them to arrive, one by one. Nevertheless, I sit on Pax’s immaculate white sofa, impatiently bouncing my leg.
Everyone neatly puts their shoes on the porch and then takes a seat in the sitting area.
Colt kneels down next to the coffee table and spreads a map over it.
It’s a map of the harbor they went to last night.
Only on this one there’re two black circles, right next to each other.
My gaze seems to stick to them and my fingers are trembling. What on earth have they found out?
“We went to the harbor and split up. It didn’t take long for Hawkeye and Tats to eavesdrop on the location of a warehouse because Colt did some shit with their phones. They stayed there to continue searching.” Pax taps on the circles on the map and points to the waterfront next to it.
“We found a ship,” Tats continues. “We need to monitor it. They loaded some kind of cargo, but we can’t say for sure what it was. Darkness and strategically placed security prevented us from seeing clearly. We now know how the security works and what the corresponding schedules are.”
Tats slumps onto the sofa. Clearly, that’s all he has to say, but I don’t understand. Is this everything?
“We have a suspicion,” Pax continues. “There were two trucks. One at the port where they were unloading and one a little further down the road, with only one guard.” The cigarette between his fingers turning back and forth.
“It sounded like there were people in that truck,” he whispers.
“But we saw nothing.” When he looks up at me, I see so much emotion in his eyes that I almost stumble backward.
It’s something I’m not familiar with from Paxton.
Usually, his gaze is cool and calculating.
Meanwhile, Brooks hasn’t said a thing this whole time, nor have I. All we can do is listen to what the guys have discovered.
“We went to the storage facility that Tats had heard the location of.” Ash stares at his fingers and swallows visibly. “I slipped inside. Those fucking guards sat on lawn chairs in front of the wooden shed and didn’t notice a thing.”
Ash runs his hand over his blond scruff only to lower it and lean his elbows on his leg.
“Inside there were—Fuck, Ky. There were about fifteen cages. Blankets on the floor, something that looked like straw. Buckets in the corner.”
“Human trafficking,” Brooks whispers.
“That’s what we think,” Tats responds. It’s the first thing he says. “We don’t have any hard evidence.”
“But those cages…” I start.
“Were empty,” Ash finishes my sentence. “We didn’t see anyone there. The guards were probably just there so no one would discover the place. Which obviously failed.”
I bang my fist on the table. “Goddamn it.” Looking up at Pax, I say, “You heard them.”
“That’s not hard evidence and you know it.
Then again, what do you want to do? Go up to them and say, 'that’s a bit out of line'?” A humorless laugh comes out of his mouth.
“Fuck off, Ky. We have to go to Dad with this. This is a club thing. We can’t solve this on our own and you know it.
The only reason we’re telling this to you and Brooks first is because you asked us and we want to give you all the info, so you’re prepared in front of the prez. ”
I bang my fist on the table again. “We can say with ninety-nine percent certainty that Hayes probably found out about this, and it’s the reason he got killed.”
Tats mutters, “Just say a hundred. If this was part of the accounting he was doing for Vanderberg—The guy probably doesn’t want loose ends and Hayes was—”
“A loose end,” Brooks finishes.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I get up, fold my arms behind my head, and turn my eyes toward the ceiling. “We have to go to Dad.”
I storm at the door. Not that anyone can hear it since I’m wearing my heart-patterned socks. Angrily, I pull open the door and shove my feet into my boots.
“Hurry up,” I shout at the others.
After I tie my boots, I pull my phone out of my pocket, and find my father’s name. The others are putting on their shoes when he answers.
“Church, now,” I grumble.
“Kyler, I’m the one who—”
“Not now, Dad. This is important. Church. We’ll be there in about five minutes.
“This better be good,” Dad grumbles when we’re all seated and the door’s closed. With a shake of his head, Kai surveys the table, his expression suggesting we’re a bunch of unruly toddlers.
Colt lays the map out on the table, opens it, and points at the black circles. Then they tell the rest of the MC the story I just heard from Pax.
When they’re finished, Kai gives me a dirty look. “Seriously? You went solo on this?”
“I didn’t think they’d find something, thought it’d be a dead end. After Koslov, we figured we’d check it out. I didn’t know—”
“This is club business,” Dad thunders.
“Dad, Ky just wanted to check if the info was legit. He didn’t think we’d run into something. We were simply checking it out to get a lay of the land.” My gaze shifts to Pax and I nod almost imperceptibly.
Dad grumbles a bit more, but doesn’t elaborate. Suddenly he leans forward and stares intently at Pax. “Trafficking women?”
Ash responds. “We’ve seen cages and Pax heard something that sounded like whining, but we haven’t found any hard evidence.
” He runs a hand through his blond hair.
"Suppose we found evidence, then what? You’d have us go up to them and tell ‘em, 'that’s crossing the line, gentlemen.
Stop it'?” He chuckles without any trace of humor.
“Fuck,” Dad says. “If this is true… How on earth are we going to keep Layne safe?”
Everyone at the table falls silent. That’s exactly the problem. The only solution seems to be to put a bullet through that Vanderberg’s head, but then what? There’ll always be someone else ready to take over. Will Layne be safe then? What do they want from her? There’re so many questions.
“Let’s give this some thought and figure out what to do next. Let’s reconvene in two days. Kyler, Brooks, check if you can get more info from Koslov.”
When we all nod, he bangs the gavel on the table, and we all stand. God, I could use a drink. I saunter over to the bar and ask West for a whiskey on the rocks.
I’m barely settled on a leather bench with my drink when Colt plops down beside me. “Hey, Boss.”
“Not your boss, kid,” I mumble and take a sip. The whiskey burns my throat and I welcome it.
“I know, but um… I was thinking.” Resting his elbows on his knees, he looks at me from under his inky eyelashes. He uses the tip of his tongue to circle the piercing on the left side of his lower lip.
I put my hand over the beanie on his head and give it a playful push. “Can you do that?” I ask, grinning.
“I can check if I can find something in their computer systems.” He shrugs, ignoring my comment.
I immediately sit up straight and look at him with a frown. “What d’you mean?”
“Well, you know I’m pretty good with computers—”
“Fuck, Colton. Being good with computers is not the same as being a hacker genius. I thought you were just a Google whiz. Which one are you?” I take him in from head to toe. The kid from the club. Paxton’s best friend. The boy with the piercings and the black clothes.
“Genius might be a stretch, but—”
“Seriously? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I smack the table and he winces.
“Does Pax know about this?” That bastard… “Okay, whatever. What can you do?” Now I lean forward too and hold his gaze.
“If I can access their computer, which I’m not sure I can because I don’t know how secure it is, I can check their emails and their files. I can search for evidence connecting Connor’s murder or potential trafficking.”
I whack him on the shoulder. “That would be fantastic. Do it, but make sure you don’t get caught.”
Colton shoots me a “what kind of idiot do you think I am?” look.
I grin and collapse against the back of the couch. If this pans out, we’ll have more than just hearsay. Maybe even a glimmer of hope.