Chloe #2
Doc looked behind them before lowering his voice. “Years ago, Savage discovered Dante wasn’t only moving guns and drugs. He was selling people—women, teenagers, and sometimes children.” Nausea rolled through her. Chloe had known Dante was evil, but she hadn’t understood the full shape of it.
“Savage tried to stop him?” she asked.
“He did more than try. He stole evidence, moved survivors, paid people to disappear, and spent years collecting the names of everyone who helped Dante and the men who built the Black Veil.”
“The journal contains those names?” she asked.
“Some of them.”
“What else is in it?” she asked.
“Locations, bank accounts, crooked police officers, judges, and politicians. Men who built careers while Dante built an empire beneath them.” Chloe understood then. The journal wasn’t simply Savage’s history; it was a weapon. One powerful enough to destroy Dante.
“Why didn’t Savage expose him?”
“He planned to,” Doc said.
“What stopped him?”
Doc’s silence answered first. “Me,” he finally said.
Chloe frowned. “What?”
“I told him the evidence wasn’t enough. That Dante would bury it, kill the witnesses, and make Savage look like a criminal trying to escape prosecution.”
“Savage was a criminal,” she reminded.
“Yes, but he had lines he wouldn’t cross,” Doc said.
“And Dante didn’t,” she breathed.
“Dante erased the lines.” Doc motioned for her to keep walking. “Savage decided to wait until he had proof no one could dispute.”
“Did he get it?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Doc admitted. “But Dante thinks he did.”
They reached an iron ladder bolted into the rock, and Doc pointed upward. “Open the hatch carefully.” Chloe tucked the flashlight into her waistband and climbed. Her arms trembled as she pushed against the square wooden panel overhead, but it didn’t move. She pushed harder, and nothing happened.
“Doc,” she called.
“It swells when it rains. Use your shoulder,” he ordered.
She braced herself beneath it and shoved, and the hatch lifted suddenly, spilling damp leaves and cold night air onto her face.
Chloe climbed out into the forest. The tunnel opened beneath a fallen tree hidden by ferns and thick brush.
From there, the cabin couldn’t be seen, but smoke drifted above the ridge.
Doc emerged behind her and quietly closed the hatch.
For one brief moment, the woods were silent before an engine rumbled in the distance.
Chloe’s heart leapt. “Bowie?” Doc tilted his head as the engine grew louder and was joined by another. She was sure that they were hearing motorcycles—a lot of them. Relief nearly dropped her to her knees, but Doc caught her arm.
“Don’t assume anything,” he insisted.
“They have to be ours.”
“Dante owns motorcycles too,” he reminded. He drew his pistol and motioned for Chloe to get behind the fallen tree. The engines thundered closer before cutting off somewhere beyond the ridge, and voices followed. Men moved quickly through the woods, and Chloe strained to hear what was going on.
“Princess!” Her knees weakened. Only one man could make that name sound like both a prayer and a command.
“Dad!” She stood. Doc tried to pull her down, but Chloe tore free.
“Princess!” Bowie shouted again.
“Here!” Branches snapped as several men broke through the trees.
Bowie reached her first. He looked like hell.
His kutte was open over a black shirt, a rifle hung from one hand, and grief and fury had carved deep lines into his face.
He dropped the weapon and grabbed her. Chloe collided with his chest as his arms locked around her so tightly she could barely breathe.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered against her hair. “Jesus Christ, baby.”
She clutched the back of his kutte. “Vengeance is still inside.”
Bowie stiffened. “Where’s Doc?”
“Here,” Doc answered as he stepped out from behind the tree. More Royal Bastards emerged from the woods. RoadKill was among them, along with Ryder, Spider, Blade, and nearly a dozen brothers Chloe had known most of her life. They looked ready for war.
Bowie held Chloe at arm’s length. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she lied.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” she said again. She was fine. It was Vengeance who needed help.
“Where is Vengeance?” her father asked.
“With Dante.” The words transformed her father. The relief vanished from his face, replaced by something cold and deadly.
“How many men does Dante have with him?” he asked.
“Six inside. Maybe more around the property,” she said.
Doc shook his head. “Dante brought at least two vehicles. There could be ten or twelve.”
Bowie retrieved his rifle. “Ryder, take four around the east side. Spider and Blade, you two cover the road. Nobody fires toward the back room unless they have a clean target.”
“I’m going with you,” Chloe said.
“No.”
“Dad—”
“I nearly lost you once tonight. I’m not letting you walk back into that cabin,” Bowie growled.
“Vengeance walked into every bullet meant for me,” she said.
“That was his choice,” Bowie said.
“And going back is mine.”
Bowie’s expression darkened. “You’re my daughter.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“You think that makes me more likely to let you do something stupid?” he asked.
“I think it means you taught me not to abandon the people I love,” she said. The word slipped out before Chloe could stop it, but Bowie heard it and so did Doc.
Her father’s eyes searched hers. “You love him?” The question was quiet despite the armed men surrounding them. Chloe looked toward the ridge at the smoke that continued to rise above the trees.
“I don’t know what to call it yet,” she admitted. All she knew for sure was that she couldn’t leave him there.
Bowie exhaled harshly. “You stay behind me.”
“I can help,” she insisted.
“Behind me, Princess. That’s the compromise,” her father said. She nodded, and Bowie began issuing orders. The group moved through the woods in a tight formation, using the trees for cover. Chloe stayed close behind her father while Doc followed at her shoulder.