11. Chapter 10
Trick
“How many have disappeared?” I ask Cage as I rest my elbows on my knees, holding my phone to my ear that I reluctantly answered after Cage rang four times in a row.
“Five, the group home is going fucking crazy. They’ve looked everywhere and can’t find them,” he grunts through the receiver, and I grit my teeth.
A year ago, before Cage finally took the helm, it became apparent that the Chargers were kidnapping and then selling kids into sex slavery.
The Cartel has already denied being part of it, meaning the Chargers are working on their own.
It explains why they’ve been adamant to get rid of any man wearing a cut knowing our values where that shit is concerned, and now more kids are missing after the group home took them on a trip.
“I’ll start looking into it and let you know what I find,” I grunt before I hang up without another word, not wanting to begin a conversation knowing he’ll ask how it went with Clark.
I didn’t mean to snap at her, but the more she mentioned my so-called mistress, the fucking angrier I got because she was so sure that I had one, and once upon a time, she would have questioned me even after I distanced myself.
I shake my head and stand before walking through the quiet house to the dining table, where my laptop is already set up.
I hate that she’s not here, I hate that my daughter isn’t here, and after I snapped at Clark, we’re now back at square one and I have a feeling I’m going to have to kidnap her.
I take a seat and unlock my laptop, a picture of Clark and Willow from two years ago, grinning at the camera and my stomach tightens, my chest clenching with pain.
My head is still fucked up, so how am I supposed to prove to her that I’m in love with her?
Sighing, I bring up my server and quickly hide my identity through different codes before hacking into the CCTV footage outside the museum where the kids went missing, adamant to get lost in something that will help me occupy my mind with the fact that my family has left me.
My phone rings as I fast-forward through the CCTV footage, and I answer, “Yeah?”
“I’m outside the museum,” Crash’s voice comes through my receiver, and I put my phone on speaker as I slow the footage, seeing what I need, and I state, “Saddle up, four Chargers are dragging the kids into a white van.”
I hear his bike rumble alongside another, and I know Knuckles and Crusher are with him.
“Head to main,” I state as I follow the cameras downtown through main, then instruct, “then take the first left,” and I quickly swap cameras, ensuring the timestamp is framed, and I continue to follow the fuckers.
“Take the third exit and head on the highway,” I continue, “Take the fifth exit towards Rose Hill.”
My eyes narrow, tense as I track the van, and Crash hangs on every word, poised to pounce at my slightest command.
It takes nearly four hours, but as I’m staring at the van parking up, he says clearly, “Fucking found the van still at the motel on Sixth Avenue, and I can see the fuckers smoking outside of a ground-floor room.”
I smirk and state, “I’m now blocking the signals around that area,” and I move my fingers quickly, putting in the jamming code, “I’ve sent a message to Blade with it being closer to his territory for the backup you’ll need.”
My phone beeps, and I read the message before stating, “He’ll be twenty minutes, keep an eye on the fuckers, and don’t go in without the backup. The feds will be waiting for his call to intervene and grab the kids.”
“Got it, brother,” he says before he hangs up, and I sigh as I quickly shut down the server and wipe it clean. Nothing is left in my tracks before shutting down my laptop just as the front door opens.
I groan, thinking it’s my dad or the brothers, but I soon freeze as my beautiful wife walks in holding our daughter's hand and I struggle to breathe.
Fuck.
She’s still wearing her gray scrubs, and her hair is still up in a messy bun, but fuck me, she’s beautiful, and my heart pounds seeing them both back at home.
“Hi, Daddy,” Willow whispers, and I frown, seeing the tears staining her cheeks, and I slowly stand.
“Little dancer, why don’t you head on upstairs and put your things away while Mama talks to Daddy,” Clark says softly to our daughter, and I can’t even melt at the fact she’s here right now and not in that fucking apartment. Instead, I’m concerned about Willow.
Why was she crying?
“Okay,” Willow whispers, and she does as she’s told, but with less enthusiasm and fear hits.
Does she not want to be home?
“Is she alright?” I ask as soon as she’s out of sight, just as my phone buzzes, and I check it quickly.
Crash:Kids secured all unharmed thankfully, the pests have been terminated.
“She feels guilty,” Clark says, gaining my attention, and I look at her with a frown while her eyes are on my phone, doubt etching her beautiful features.
Fuck, she thinks it’s my mistress.
“That was Crash, five foster kids went missing on a trip,” I quickly explain before she gets the wrong idea, the years I made her think I was sleeping around are still in her pretty head before I demand softly, “Why does Willow feel guilty?”
“Are the kids alright?!” she gasps instantly, my question going over her head.
“They’re okay, Crash with the help of the Dark Angels have gotten to them safely, now Willow, buttercup,” I say, and she blinks a few times before her eyes go to the stairs, then come back to me.
The pain in her eyes buckles me before she chokes out, “She told me she hated me this morning, after overhearing my brother and mom. Apparently, I broke our family up according to Mom.”
Fucking Clarisse.
My jaw ticks as I clench my teeth hard, but Clark ignores my reaction as she sighs and drops her keys in the dish near the door before she walks over to me. I don’t move, not sure what she’s up to, but when she stops before me and cups my cheeks, fuck.
Warmth spreads through me, and I slowly close my eyes as I put my hands over hers, not wanting to lose her touch. She allows me my moment before I open my eyes when she rubs her thumb along my scruff.
Her eyes tear up when they lock with mine before she says strongly, “You didn’t rape me,” and all the air is sucked out of me as I feel winded.
I shake my head as my emotions begin to pull and I choke, “Clark…” But she grips my cheeks harder before I can protest, and she snaps, “Miles!”
The sound of my name on her lips electrifies me, in that moment, everything is perfect.
“You didn’t rape me,” she whispers, and I try to choke back the emotions running through me.
“Then why can’t I get that feeling out of me, buttercup?” I ask, and absolute pain radiates from her beautiful dark green eyes.
She shakes her head before pulling mine down, and our foreheads touch, my grip on her hands tightening.
“Is that why you’ve barely communicated with me? Because of how you feel?” she chokes, and I fuck, I hate the pain in her voice, I hate that I’ve got to tell her this.
But I want my wife, I always have, I just didn’t see it.
“I’ve been seeing a therapist for the past year since I finally gave in to my feelings. I’ve been pushing you away further this past year because I needed to fix myself before I could be with you.”
My confession confuses her, her brows furrowed, and I let go of her hands on my cheeks, and I wrap my arm around her waist, and I squeeze her tighter to me, enjoying the warmth of her body up against mine.
Ensuring our eyes are locked, I confess, “Buttercup, I haven’t touched another woman since that night with us, because I’m in love with you.
” I place a gentle kiss against her stumped lips, sparks instantly flashing between us and I beg, “Come to therapy with me in three days, so I can finally get all this shit off my chest, so I can finally be open with you and so you can understand why I’ve pushed back.
Then make a decision about the divorce, please. ”
Though if she still decides she wants the divorce, I’ll be tying her to our bed.
I won’t lose her, not now that I understand what she truly means to me.
She’s quiet for a moment before she says softly, “If you tell me right now that you didn’t rape me…”
Fuck.
“I-I can’t,” I stutter, instantly shaking my head, and her eyes tear up, making them shine.
She says, “Well then, no to therapy, and you sign the papers as soon as I get a fresh set to you.”
I growl at her threat and tighten my hold on her waist when she lets go of my cheeks and tries to move back, and I snap, “How am I supposed to believe it?” My eyes race between hers, “I can’t just change how I’m feeling at the snap of your fingers!”
“You’re supposed to believe it because you didn’t do it,” she replies softly, “You’re supposed to believe it because I’ve spent years believing I assaulted you, Trick.”
I instantly snap, “Miles!” not hearing her words, and her eyes widen in shock.
“No,” she says, “You can’t do this, you can't claim me after six years of pushing me away, heck, there’s a woman claiming to be pregnant with your child!”
I tighten my hold yet again when she tries pushing against my chest, and I scoff, “It isn’t even her scan photo! It belongs to a waitress at the diner!”
Clark blinks, then blinks again in shock, and I cup her cheek, using her stumped state to touch her, and I command, “Who gave you the photo, buttercup?”
“Lavender,” she whispers, “it was after you spoke to me at work for the first time. She’s been claiming that you two have been together for our whole marriage, it’s why I never tried to speak to you about our future because I only saw one that entailed you and her.”
Mother fucker.
“I’ve never fucked her, not once,” I admit, and she stutters, “But-but, I’ve found you both in compromising positions, I’ve seen her in your bed…”
I sigh as I pull back, giving her a little space for a moment, and I state, “The compromising positions, she’s shoved herself up against me, which now I’m seeing is because she knew you were in the vicinity, and the same with her in my bed.
I’ve had to change the locks to my room, our room, several times,” disbelief shines back at me and I swallow hard as I remove my wedding band then I turn my hand and show her my tattoo and her eyes widen in shock seeing her name before I put my ring back on.
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her into me as I cup her jaw and we lock eyes.
Just as I hear our daughter’s little feet coming down the stairs I say, “I love you, Clark, I’ve been in love with you since I gave you the nickname but never realized…
and me pushing you into the wedding, I soon realized afterward that I didn’t do it for your safety, you already had that but I did it because I wanted you tied to me. ”
A few tears fall, and I quickly kiss them away before I whisper, “Now will you come to therapy with me?” and I hold my breath, hoping and praying she’ll say yes.