Exquisite Karma (Iron Horse MC Book 4) (19 page)

I nodded. “We ready to roll?”

Hustler frowned. “Prez, might be a good idea if you stayed here.”

The urge to put a bullet in his head was strong, but I bit it back. “You are out of your fuckin’ mind if you think I’m not gonna do everything I can to get those girls back.”

Holding up his hands, Hustler shook his head, his lip ring gleaming in the light as his normally laughing, but now dark hazel eyes held mine. “Listen, I know you think I’m a paranoid fuck, but I’m tellin’ you, someone is tryin’ to take you down. They want you out of the picture and this could be a trap.”

“So I’m just supposed to fuckin’ sit here while my brothers go out and risk their lives?” I pulled the case for my AK-47 out from beneath the bed with a huff of exertion. “You’re crazy.”

“He does have a point,” Thorn said in a low voice.

“No.”

“Maybe—” Dragon started to add, and I gave him a look that shut him right the fuck up.

“Those girls? Their families trusted me, trusted us, to keep them safe and we failed them. So now we’re gonna go pay the price, but hopefully it’ll be with the blood of our enemies, not our own.”

Hustler tried to argue with me some more before I sent him out of the room, ready to punch him in the face if he didn’t shut the hell up.

Thankfully none of my other men gave me shit, and after we piled into our armored vehicles—bikes were not good for sneaking up on people—I spent all my time on my phone answering calls that couldn’t wait, praying for some word on Sarah while fearing the worst, and praying even harder that those little girls’ innocence had been spared.

When we made it to the connecting street that would lead to the abandoned three-story brick building where they were supposedly being held, I scanned the area, looking for some sign of life. This deserted industrial area was a good one for holding someone, off the beaten track and surrounded by stacks of rusting shipping containers. It had also become a dumping ground for the locals, and mounds of crap lay all over the old parking lot surrounding the building. It looked empty, except for the faintest glow coming through one of the windows in the back.

We were crouched behind a crumbling brick wall next to the burnt husk of what had once been a store of some kind. “Is that where they’re holding ’em?”

“Yeah,” Dragon whispered. “We haven’t seen any movement on infrared, but they could be so deep inside that massive place that we can’t detect ’em.”

“Anything on who’s behind it?”

“No. Los Diablos claims they have no idea,” I snorted, “and according to Tom Sokolov, the Russian’s wouldn’t have taken the girls, something about it being dishonorable or some shit. Israelis haven’t said shit, but Mr. Dahan, our contact, has said in the past he never harms children.”

“Fuckin’ hate this cloak-and-dagger bullshit,” I muttered as Hustler talked to a few of our brothers with special-ops training while gesturing to the building. “Can’t kill shadows until you shine the light on ’em.”

Stones grit beneath Hustler’s boots as he crouched down next to us, his black bandana pulled down almost all the way to his eyes. “Our teams are set up, waitin’ on your word.”

“Right, let’s do this fast and—”

“That’d be a big fucking mistake,” a familiar man’s gravelly voice said from somewhere to our left.

Guns came up all around me, but I yelled out as loud as I dared, “Stand the fuck down, it’s Sarah’s dad, Mike Anderson.”

That motherfucker strolled out of the shadows like a magician appearing out of thin air. He barely made a sound in his worn military boots, and the guns strapped to his body, all painted matte black, didn’t jingle in the least. He had weathered features, the kind of face that had taken a beating from life and lived to tell the tale. Our relationship was prickly, we both were absolutely confident that we knew what was best for Sarah, but I was glad to see him. While I might not like the crazy motherfucker, I respected the fuck out of him.

“Carlos,” he greeted me, refusing to use my club name. “How’s your nose?”

That asshole. We’d gotten in a fight during my first visit to their place—out of Sarah’s sight, of course. If she saw us settling our differences with our fists, she’d no doubt have kicked both our asses. And Lord help the man who pisses
Mimi
off on her home turf.

“Mimi with you?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

I waited for him to elaborate, but he glanced at the men around me then raised a brow.

“Mr. Anderson,” Hustler said in a low voice. “You mentioned something about a trap?”

Mike lifted his hand to his mouth then made a piercing whistle. I wasn’t the least bit surprised when more men melted out of the darkness surrounding us. They were all dressed similarly to Mike and a few had full camo darkening their hands and faces as well. All radiated a cold menace, and if I’d been a lesser man, I’d have been feeling a wee bit intimidated being surrounded by my future father-in-law and his highly armed friends. Let’s face it, most daddies don’t dream about their sweet daughters hooking up with a way older outlaw biker.

A guy to Mike’s left, clad from head to toe in black and wearing a mask, adjusted his gun strap. “The place is surrounded by IEDs.”

I blinked at him a couple times while the men around me sucked in a collective breath. Hustler’s voice came from behind me a second later, telling our men to stand down—that it was a trap, to pull back and touch nothing. My heart raced as I stared at the area surrounding the old building, the broken asphalt, the piles of crap everywhere. We’d never expect it, and no doubt more people would have died.

Thorn took a step closer to Mike. “No offense, but how the fuck do you know that?”

The guy wearing the mask gave a harsh laugh. “Well, why don’t you just stroll on over there and find out?”

“What he means,” Hustler smoothly interjected, “is can you share with us what you know? I don’t think I need to remind anyone that there are still a bunch of scared little girls out there right now waitin’ for someone to save them.”

Everyone instantly sobered and Mike nodded. “You’re right. Ghost over there is an ordinance expert, could blow you up a hundred different ways before breakfast. He said they’re a familiar design, the same kind used in Afghanistan by the Taliban.”

“The fuckin’ Taliban is after us?” Thorn took a step back and his gold teeth flashed as he grimaced.

“No,” the man I assumed was called Ghost answered. “Anyone who was deployed over there would have had firsthand experience with these types of IEDs. Hell, you can find designs for ’em on the Internet if you look hard enough, but I don’t think the person who did these was an amateur.”

Frustration tightened my muscles into knots as I ran my hands through my hair and I turned to Hustler. “Goddamn it. I should’ve fuckin’ listened to you man, I’m sorry.”

Hustler gave my shoulder a squeeze, but Mike said, “Let’s head back to your clubhouse. Need to have a talk with you in private.”

I left Hustler behind along with a couple of our brothers who had firsthand experience with Taliban-style bombs. The majority of the members of Iron Horse had done service in one branch of the military or another, many of them overseas, and knowing our enemy probably spent time in Afghanistan didn’t help me narrow down the suspects that much. I could think of about a hundred offhand right here in Austin, and it didn’t put us any closer to finding out which man posing as a brother was actually stabbing us in the back.

So we hadn’t found the girls, didn’t know who the traitor was, and I was once again left spinning my wheels in frustration. It seemed like every attempt to hurt the club I stopped, another three sprang up in their place. We were having all kinds of problems, but luckily our allied clubs and organizations were helping us deal with the bullshit. Both myself and my brothers have had to call in personal favors owed in order to keep everyone safe and out of jail.

These were my people, they trusted me to make this right, and I was failing them. Worse yet, as soon as we entered the clubhouse two of the mothers of the missing girls had been waiting for us, Darla and Sweet Taya. Only Sweet Taya, a tiny Mexican brunette normally quiet and as nice as could be, became like a demon possessed when she found out we hadn’t rescued her daughter. She’d screamed and raged to the point we had to restrain her then give her a shot to knock her out before she hurt herself.

The looks of helpless anger on the faces of those watching us only increased my guilt and I’d taken all the abuse Taya had hurled at me, giving her an outlet for her pain.

Her anguished cries still echoed in my head as I trudged into my office and gestured for Mike to take a chair. He ignored me and instead began to examine my office. It took me a moment to realize he was checking the room for bugs, but I ignored him and went over to the small bar standing in the corner of the room.

I needed a fuckin’ drink, bad.

Sarah had installed it a couple months ago, tired of finding bottles of liquor leaving rings on the tables. I’d tried to point out that all the furniture in my office was beat to shit, and that I liked it that way, but she’d gone out and got this kick ass corner bar for me instead. It even had a small fridge/freezer. From the rack of glasses going up the wall I selected, then filled a thick leaded glass tumbler with crushed ice before pouring a generous amount of Kentucky Bourbon Whiskey into the glass.

“Want one?” I asked Mike.

“What’re you drinking?”

“1792 Ridgemont Reserve Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whisky

He grunted, “Might as well.”

After handing him the glass I settled behind my desk, my gaze going to the sharp silver framed picture of Sarah and I. We were sitting on one of the picnic tables out front, both of us straddling the bench with her tucked between my legs with her back to my front. I was leaning down and whispering something in her ear, probably something dirty, and she was laughing while reaching back and cupping my cheek. I could almost feel her soft skin against my jaw, smell the scent of whatever perfume she’d put on her inner wrist. Fuck I missed her.

“Looks like my ex-wife caused you a bit of trouble,” Mike said in the understatement of the century.

“You seen Sarah?”

“Not since she stayed at my place for a few days.”

I nodded, knowing before I even asked what the answer was. “Any idea where she is?”

“Got my suspicions.”

“Then why are you here instead of out there looking for her?”

“Because Mimi sent me to help you.”

“And why would she do that?”

“Because of those missing kids.” He gazed out the dark window, his shoulders tight with tension. “Nothing worse than fearing for your child’s life.”

I took a deep breath, striving for patience and wondering who the fuck was rating club business out to Sarah’s stepmother. “And how did she find out about the missing girls?”

He smirked, took a sip of his drink, then rested the glass on his knee. “Really? Seriously? You do know who my wife is, right?”

“Yeah, I know who your wife is.”

“Then you know she’s pretty pissed, and so am I, that you didn’t tell us about your troubles.” His eyes got really dark and the wrinkles around his mouth deepened. “We respected your and Sarah’s privacy by not digging into your life and monitoring you. And how did you repay us? By hiding the fact that my daughters are in mortal danger and not telling me?”

I met his gaze, letting him see that I wasn’t intimidated in the least. “Mike, respect you but this is club business. We’ve got this handled. Now I admit I was wrong to keep what was going on from you, but Sarah took off without my knowing. If I had any idea she was going to go after Billie I would have chained her to a wall, kept her locked up in a safe room until this shit is over.”

Mike laughed. “Good luck with that. I tried grounding her a couple times. Didn’t work. I’d lock every exit and entrance to our home and she still somehow managed to sneak out.”

Remembering Sarah telling me funny stories about sneaking out of her dad’s place, I knew exactly what he was talking about. “You know she had a copy of your fingerprints, right?”

His jaw dropped and I could hold back my chuckle as he stared at me. “She did not.”

“Oh yes she did. Learned from a friend how to do it and had a full set of yours, perfectly replicated for use on all your fingerprint scanners. Like the one where you kept a set of maps with the current entrances and exits to your place below ground mapped out. You always keep a paper copy of things because you distrust computers and the Internet.”

Shaking his head, Mike surprised me by smiling, just a little bit before taking a drink. “That girl, she always was too smart for her own good.”

“You underestimate her. Sarah is brilliant, ruthless, and is about as street smart as they come. I gotta trust she’ll keep herself safe.”

Mike snorted. “If she thinks for one second sacrificing herself would save this sorry ass gang of yours, she would.”

“We’re not a gang,” I ground out. Mike always said that just to fuck with me. “We’re a club.”

“Please, your
club
is a fucking mess. You’re walking blind into obvious traps, and you somehow lost track of my daughter. Now I’ll forgive you for the last part because Sarah is very good at vanishing, but I can’t believe you almost got your ass blown to kingdom come. That was just plain sloppy, and desperate. Made me break my cover to warn you.”