Angels and Ashes (Heaven's Rejects MC Book 2) (15 page)

This man doesn’t know me, and his insistence to keep my nose out of Brent’s murder only infuriates me more than Raze stealing my only lead thus far. I’m not the pretty little doll that sits on the shelf and hopes someone will come along to dust me off and play with me; I am a force of nature that could rival any one of the Heaven’s Rejects’ men. They say that cornering a mama bear with her cubs could be a dangerous situation, but they haven’t seen what happens when you take something, or in this case, some
one
I love away from me. Unfortunately, for Raze and his band of mindless followers, I make a mama bear look like Winnie-the-fucking-Pooh on a honey hunt.

Trax’s words reverberate in my mind about the envelope that is now safely tucked into my bra as I slip back into the elevator and out to the parking lot. Darkness enshrouds the deserted parking lot, indicating to me that I had been at the hospital far longer than I had originally thought. I’ve never been one to be fearful about being on my own so late at night, but a shiver of unease churns in my stomach. I make my way to my car at a brisk pace and quickly lock the door once inside.

My hands outstretch and curl around the leather-bound steering wheel as I take my first breath of freedom in several days. I know that this is only temporary until I return home to the watchful eye of whatever brother is guarding my home and kids under the false pretense of safety, but I revel in the quiet surrounding me. Leaning down, I press my forehead against the chilled leather and breathe deeply to soothe the racing of my heart. Closing my eyes only destroys the semblance of peace that has washed over. Horrible visions of my husband’s bloodied hands flutter though my imagination like a brakeless freight train barreling toward a dynamite factory.
What if I never knew the real him? What if the side of him I saw was only an act for my sake?

A sickening thought sends nausea coursing through my veins.
What if there’s another woman or several of them?
I’d be a fool to think the temptation wasn’t there, but Brent had always told me that while some of the guys had old ladies and whores, he was definitely not counted amongst their ranks. I shove those images into the back of mind, knowing that I could be dead wrong or dead right, and it’s a waste of my time worrying about something I can’t change. If it’s as bad as it sounds, I honestly don’t know how I will be able to handle this on my own. I’ll be damned if I turn to the club for help, but I may have to cash out a few certificates of deposits to bank roll some hired muscle if it comes down to that.

Jesus, I sound like a fucking mob Boss about to make his next hit.

My pulse races knowing I have the information pressed against my clammy chest, but it would be stupid to linger here any longer, because I know that I don’t have much time before I would be noticeably missing. I can only hope that knowing how exhausted Hero was as I left that he may not have immediately alerted my watchers that I was heading home to relieve them.
Please let that be the case.
I need a few minutes to myself with this news before the entire world bears down on my shoulders again. My hands tremble against the steering wheel as my stomach quivers. I attempt to pull them from their vice grip on the wheel, but they don’t move.
Why am I so scared to open this?
Maybe it would be best if I read this at home. At least there, I won’t have to worry about surviving the drive home should the news be as bad as Trax foreshadowed.

Just go home. It may be a home filled with lies, but you will be safe there.

Making my decision, I turn the keys in the ignition sending the engine roaring to life. My mind bounces from one bat-shit crazy assumption to the next as I make the short drive home. It’s not until I park in the driveway that I realize how much the contents of this envelope could change everything. It would kill me more knowing that my husband and our relationship was all a lie than his actual death. I know that I did this to myself. Even now having the information I need pressed against my skin, I am wavering on if I want to read this. With a sigh, I shove open the door and slide off the seat, my shoes hitting the cement drive with audible pops and clicks. I lightly push against the door until I hear the soft noise of the locking mechanism clicking shut. Staying quiet is the name of the game because waking up the kids and anyone else inside would be the worst possible thing right now—I need to be alone.

I creep quietly into the house and find that everyone is where they’re supposed to be with the exception of Roxie passed out atop the chest of a shirtless man sprawled on my living room couch. While I would normally take her and tuck her into bed, I know if I move her before I open up this envelope both of them will wake up and delay me any longer. I pass by the couch and my eyes float down to the hard set of defined abs that my daughter is resting upon. The man holding my child has that sexy v-shaped muscle disappearing under the waist of his jeans, which sends a jolt of arousal to my core. I lean down to check on her before I rip my hand away as his face shifts upward in his sleep. The man that I was just perving over as he cradles my sleeping daughter is Raze.

Calm the fuck down. Abort mission. He may be sexy, but his dick is not the one you seek.

Forcing my arousal down and making a mental note that I need new vibrator batteries before this shit continues to get out of hand, I quickly whisk away down the hall and into the home office. I click on the tabletop light and plop into the chair before reaching into my shirt and retrieving the envelope. Smoothing it out on top of the desk, I run my finger under the seal and slowly rip it open. With a sigh, I hesitantly pull out a thick wad of folded papers with what seems to be a few photos tucked within it.

My hands tremble as I unfold the papers before a gasp releases from my lips and tears begin to drop one by one onto the pages before me. My eyes scan each piece of information, but it’s two photos of my husband that crushes my heart and breaks the dam holding back my tears. My heart falls as I study a photo of Brent with his arms wrapped around a mystery woman in a loving embrace and another of him exchanging cash for what looks like a Saran-Wrapped package of drugs.

Trax was right. This is far worse than I could have ever imagined, and the worst part of it is, I may have been married to a complete stranger.

I use one of my hands to remove Ricca’s grasp as her chest heaves with sobs. Her face is covered in smears of dark tear stains from her mascara. I’ve never understood why women wear mascara knowing that one sad story or emotional moment will leave them looking like Elvira after a dip in the despair pool. My hand gently pats her shoulder as I try to comfort her, but she’s nearly a stranger to me, so this only makes the situation more awkward.

“I asked you a question, doll. What’s happened?”

“The babies,” she mutters. “The babies are here.”

“Thank, fuck,” I declare. “Everything okay with them? Two sets of ten fingers and toes?”

Ricca nods at my line of questions.

“Doll, you might want to work on your delivery of good news. You damn near gave me a heart attack.”

Ricca’s eyes rise to meet mine before she sobs once more and takes off down the hallway.
What the fuck was that all about?
That has to be one of the weirdest interactions with a woman that I’ve ever had and I was married to a fucking nutcase.

Shrugging my shoulders, I head out the back door and make my way to Darcy’s house. With Hero’s kids delivered safely, Darcy will be coming home soon and I can get my men back. It’s not that I mind monitoring the house, but I know she doesn’t want us around, and frankly, I don’t blame her. Had I been able to make the choice between Jagger or me, I would have been the one hanging from the rafters instead of him. Just like my father before me, a happy life hasn’t exactly been a dream of mine. Heavy are the shoulders of those who lead, and that’s how I prepared myself for the future. Having kids of my own was only an unexpected bonus, but even I know that old grudges or new ones could end my life just as easily as an accident on the highway. It’s a part of the life we live, and I have come to terms with it far more easily than any of the rest of my brothers.

My mind wanders the entire drive to Darcy’s and doesn’t shut off until I quietly slip in the front door. Ky and Darcy’s boys are huddled around the TV playing some video game while Harley makes faces at a cooing Roxie. Not a single set of eyes looks up to see who has walked in with the exception of Slider and Irons, and that is both a scary and happy thought. It shows my kids are comfortable here, and while that is usually a good thing, it’s also unnerving. The sense of calm and peace is nothing like this at our home. The idea that maybe I should cleanse their mother’s influence over us and sell the house pops into my mind, but that is a step I am not ready to consider yet.

I plop down on the sofa next to Slider as he watches the boys play their game. Bending down to unlace my riding boots, I pull the boot from one foot and toe the other one off, letting them hit the ground with a plop. I prop up each foot one by one on the top of the coffee table in front of the couch as Slider’s attention turns to me.

“You heard the news?” he asks.

“Yup, it’s good news. Also means that Darcy will be home soon. Why don’t you and Irons head on back to the clubhouse? I can handle it until she gets home.”

Slider looks at me quizzically almost expecting there to be a laugh at the end of my statement.

“You sure about that, Prez? You look exhausted, and I don’t mind watching the kids.”

Slapping my brother on his back, I reassure him that I want him to take off. “I’ve got this. Besides, it’s nearly time for the kids to hit the sack anyway, and I’ll get some shut eye myself. You two go on and rest up.”

Slider smiles as he stands and motions for Irons to follow him out the door. Over the next hour, Darcy’s boys begin to yawn and head off to bed on their own.
Damn, she’s got these kids trained better than a prizefighter.
You don’t even have to ask them more than once or in this case, at all. Harley and Ky are a little harder, but they both relent, leaving just Roxie and me awake. I figured she would be the first one to pass out, but she’s still going strong after Harley deposited her on my lap before stalking off to bed in a huff.

“Well, my little princess, what do we do with you?” I say to her as a toothless smile widens on her face. I take in her features noting how much she looks like her father, but also her mother with her pert nose and high cheek bones. “You are going to be a looker just like your mama, Roxie, and that doesn’t bode well for the entire clubhouse full of uncles who will be scaring the little shits away from you.”

Roxie smiles at me before her mouth opens wide in a yawn.

“That’s right, my little princess. It’s night-night time. Let’s see if this old man still has it.”

I lay her gently down on the couch as I strip off my cut and pull my shirt over my head, laying it on top of my discarded boots. I cradle her back in my arms and lean back on the arm of the couch while I press her warm little body against my bare chest. It doesn’t take long before her tiny chest rises and falls in a methodical rhythm. I lean my head back over the arm and close my own eyes, but every few seconds, my eyes fly open at the slightest movement from Roxie. I know that it’s not recommended for your baby to sleep with you, but both Harley and Ky slept on my chest on the nights I was home, and both of them lived, but I am taking more precautions as Roxie’s not exactly my kid. It doesn’t help that I know her mother would flip her shit if she caught us like this. I’ll admit, I miss when my kids were this small and were more cute and cuddly and less sassy and defiant. Closing my eyes one last time, I slip into the peaceful darkness of slumber.

A few hours later, I startle awake at the sound of my phone ringing from inside my cut. As I push off the couch, I note Roxie’s missing from my chest. A pang of sadness knowing that my time with Roxie is over hits me in the heart, but I shove it down and reach for my phone.

“Yeah,” I sleepily grunt into the phone and rub my free hand over my brow.

“Prez, I cracked it,” Voodoo excitedly responds.

A sudden sense of awareness jars me fully awake when I stand up from the couch and head toward the patio door to have some privacy. It’s still the middle of the night, but I won’t take the chance of waking up the rest of the house.

“This better be fucking good, V. I was finally getting some shut eye for once.”

“Oh, it’s good, Prez. We’ve hit the mother load. I’ve got texts between Maj and other phones plus a list of calls from the last time it was turned on.”

“Can you trace them?”

“I have the numbers running through a mobile phone database, but so far, nothing.”

“This is the big breakthrough? A couple of texts and phone numbers? That’s not exactly solid evidence, V,” I spit back.

“Don’t get your big boy panties in a bunch, Prez. I saved the best for last. I have two addresses.”

My heart begins to race because addresses we can work with, and we can trace ownership through government records.