Lay It Down: Bastards MC Series Boxed Set (59 page)

Rob called the meeting to order, and the room fell silent. There was no beating around the bush this morning—Rob’s speech was brief and to the point. Tinkerbelle, Tank’s ol’ lady, was missing. No one had seen her for more than two weeks. The neighbors said she left for work one night and hadn’t been home since, but the hospital where she worked said she’d called the same night and told them she had a family emergency out of state and didn’t know when she’d get back.

Robbery was out. Her house hadn’t been trashed, but it also didn’t look as though she’d packed any clothes. The only thing Tank and Jessie found missing was her cell phone. Even her iPod and laptop were left on her desk.

Tiny cleared his throat. “I hate to be the one who says it, ‘cause you all know my history with Pixie. Maybe she just didn’t want to see you, brothah. You got out early, and she may not have been ready.”

History was the nice way of saying Tiny had staked a claim to the crazy bitch. She’d chosen to stay a club girl though, taking offense to the fact that Tiny already had a wife outside the club. Tank had been smitten, but he only moved in once he realized he couldn’t handle the idea of her screwing any of us, and eventually she’d given in. Seeing the little woman bring two giant men to their knees had been hilarious. In the process, her name had gone from Pixie to Tink, the latter fitting her so much better.

I nodded at Tiny’s point. “You didn’t exactly leave things on the besta terms. Maybe she needed a little more time.”

Tank slid the glare he’d been giving Tiny in my direction, and I tried to hide my smile. Instead, I turned to our prez, curious as to why this was important enough to call court. Rob read my look instantly, jutting his chin in Tank’s direction.

Tank swallowed hard then pulled a picture from inside his cut. “This was the only thing out of place. She always kept it next to the bed—even when we stayed here. I found it on the counter in the kitchen, like it was left out so I wouldn’t miss it.” Hatred crossed his features as he held the photo out to me. “I grabbed it before Jess could see.”

I’d seen the picture before. It had been taken on a Toy Run a few years ago, and Tink and Tank stood in front of his bike, the White Mountains in the distance. The image had been mutilated though. An X was crossed over his face, while Pixie’s had been scratched away, a giant number 2 in its place. Every ounce of humor left me as I realized what this was saying, and I thought of another number etched into a woman’s face. My fists clenched, and I reluctantly passed the picture to my left. Bear tensed, hands gripping the edge of the table as he saw the message.

There were murmurs around us as the print was passed around. Any thoughts anyone had about Pixie hiding herself or running from Tank evaporated as reality struck. They’d said they were coming for us, and apparently they were coming now.

No one knew who the elusive
they
was.

Last summer, Bear had been out with his girl when they’d been attacked. He wasn’t wearing colors, and there was no way to know he was a Bastard—unless someone had been watching him. A group of men jumped them, dragged them into a van, and beat Ian while holding a gun on her. Then they’d taken turns brutalizing Ellie while forcing Ian to watch. He’d fought them with everything he had, but they’d only beaten him more.

When they were done taking turns with her body, they left the ultimate memory ingrained on her skin. A giant number 1 carved into her forehead. Then they dropped them off the same place they’d taken them, with a warning for Ian—they were coming for us, and we’d never know when they’d hit again.

I could still hear his voice telling us the story, and that, mixed with the image of a broken young woman in a hospital bed, made me sick to my stomach now.

The reality was sobering. Rocker tried to keep order, but there were panicked questions and angry declarations. Should we go into lockdown? Could it be a copycat? Why Tink and Ellie—what made them targets? Were the rest of the ol’ ladies safe? What else did we know? We needed to figure out who was behind this and take down these pricks before anyone else got hurt. We would find them, and we would kill them. Slowly.

In the end, Rob had to raise his voice to get control of the meeting. His words were stern, but we trusted him. There was no need for a lockdown, because we couldn’t destroy an unknown enemy. However, like last summer, we would go on alert. Ol’ ladies, sisters, cousins, and protected moms would not be left alone. Children would be taken to and from school, and the clubhouse would become a daycare during non-school hours. The Brats, as our club whores called themselves, would buddy up, even if they objected, and would not go anywhere alone. We would be vigilant and more aware of our surroundings.

The vote went around the table, and we agreed. The eleven of us sat as the rest of the club filed out, everyone somber and in a hurry to get home and hug their loved ones or pull one of the girls into their room and release some tension.

As the door closed, Rob leaned forward, worry etched into his face. “Tell me we’ve got somethin’ on this prick. Anythin’.”

Wizard, our computer whiz kid who could find anything about anyone, shook his head. “I have her drivin’ through a traffic light on the way to work. She’s alone in the cah. She nevah pulled into the lot. So somewhere from the light on Western Main to Elm, she went missin’. There isn’t a single security camera in the area. Whoever got her knew they were in a blind zone.” He sighed, tapping a few more keys on his tablet before adding, “The security system in her house wasn’t triggered. But it was disabled ten minutes aftah she went to work, right about the time she was drivin’ through the light where I got a time-stamped picture. Twenty minutes later, whoever was in the house left and reactivated the alarms.”

“Do any of you have any idea of possible perps?” Hawk asked, sounding like his dad. “I can’t plan an attack if I don’t know who I’m goin’ aftah. Give me somethin’. Anythin’ to investigate, and I’m on it.”

King shook his head, typing away on his own iPad. “We’re still diggin’. We’re lookin’ at anyone who has a grudge. Every dad. Every husband, boyfriend, and sleazeball. Every mom. So far, the only one who’s made parole hasn’t bothered to come home or even call his family.”

Wiz sighed. “If we just had one single clue, I’d blow it out of the watah.”

But we didn’t. Whoever this was, they were smart. They knew we’d be watching. By breaking into her house while Pixie was very obviously somewhere else, they proved that she hadn’t defaced the picture herself. By making sure she made it to the light but not to the hospital, they made it clear they knew where to kidnap her. Just like with Ian and Ellie, this was not a spur-of-the-moment attack. It had been well thought out, and no sloppy evidence was left behind. We wouldn’t know who did it until they got sloppy or until they came forward. If they got sloppy, that meant they were panicking, which meant they would kill. A ransom demand would be much better.

As Rob closed the meeting and dismissed us, Neo caught my eye. He hadn’t said much during the meeting, but sitting between Tank and Wiz, he probably hadn’t had a chance. Now though, he nodded to the side of the room and stood.

“Drop L.K. off at the gym this afternoon. I’ll be there in an hour, and I’ll stay as long as it takes.”

I didn’t need him to explain more. He knew she was the only woman involved in this who didn’t know how to take care of herself. I nodded, walking around him and into the main room. I was still numb. This was how we lived. When you were the vigilante group, you took on someone else's fight as your own, and you fought their battles because they couldn’t. But it brought the war to your front door.

I hated that Joes was here in the middle of this shit now. I needed to get to my room, pull her into my arms, and prove to myself she was safe.

Then I needed to call my boss. There was no way in hell I was going back to Maine and leaving Jo alone. Yeah, my brothers would keep an eye on her, protect her if she needed it. But if something happened to her… I couldn’t even let the thought finish because it made me too sick. Maybe it was time for me to give my notice anyway. Jo was building a life here, and I needed to be where she was.

Chapter 25

Jo

I waited until long after I heard the two of them walk down the hall before I slipped from the bed and sprinted into the bathroom. I didn’t want anyone else to walk in and see me buck-ass naked again. My cheeks were still burning. I’d never been caught going down on anyone before. Not even my unpredictable roommate in college had seen me doing that to Will, and she’d come home at the most random times to find us in many sexual poses. Of course it would be Rocker who would literally catch me with a dick in my mouth.

Laughing to myself, I grabbed a cup of water, wrapped a towel around me, and walked slowly back to bed. I needed coffee, but Matty had told me to stay here, and that was exactly what I was going to do. I’d had enough trouble to last a lifetime by walking around this clubhouse alone, and I had absolutely no desire to repeat that mistake.

I propped myself against his pillows, smelling his musky scent on the bed, and smiled. God, I was so happy that I could seriously scream. Had it really been just over a week ago that I’d told Teagan I was sure Matty would never forgive me for moving to Boston? I’d been so convinced that I’d blown it, and now I was in his room, in his bed, and I was most definitely his.

Looking around, I realized that his room was exactly what I would expect—simple and tasteful, even in the middle of a motorcycle clubhouse. It was clean—unlike some of the other rooms I’d seen, which had empty bottles strewn everywhere—and the light blue walls made the room seem larger than the others. A giant Bastards flag hung on one wall, and pictures of Sammy were on every available surface. Except for next to his bed. That held “our” picture—the one I had kept on my desk for years and the one he had on the nightstand at our apartment.

In it, we were young. I’d been maybe twenty-five and he’d been around twenty-eight—just babies compared to now. His arm was thrown around my shoulders in that brotherly way he used to hug me, and we were laughing at whoever was taking the picture. We looked like a happy couple without a trouble in the world. It made me miss the kids we used to be.

I picked up my left hand, staring at the ring. With my other hand, I twirled it on my finger. Yes, it was real. Matty had really proposed, and I’d really said yes. Holy shit! Young, womanizing whore Matty would never have asked me to spend eternity with him, so maybe I didn’t miss our younger selves as much as I thought.

The idea made me realize that we needed to talk about so many things, so many secrets we still had buried. I had been ready to demand answers when I got home last night, but seeing him at the bar, devastated and drinking his pain away, brought back every memory I had of him ten years ago, when Bex left him. That reminder was as effective as a sharp slap in the face—my life would be nothing without that man, and I could not lose him. While I was still very curious about everything, I wanted to push it away and just be happy, at least for a little while.

Looking at the ring made me realize that, for the first time in years, I wasn’t worried. Being with Matty was so different than being with Will. I didn’t have to wonder if I was going to come home to a husband who rejected me and made me feel as though I was hideous inside and out. Matty would spend eternity helping me battle those demons. And I would do the same for him.

Over the past few days, I’d come to the conclusion that even though I might not look like Taylor or that beautiful girl who had been with him last night—Rebel was it?—I was what Matty wanted. Me. Cellulite, stretch marks, pudge, and all. It was my body that made him hard, my body that had him gasping in pleasure for hours on end. It was my mind he loved. I was awkward, geeky, stubborn, and had the tendency to say the most inappropriate thing at the most inappropriate time. He loved me anyway.

He wanted to marry
me
. Matthew Murphy, the Greek God that hundreds of women lusted after, loved me. Matty, my annoying but hilarious best friend in the entire world, had said that he would want me forever. Mateo, the badass Bastard, had asked me to marry him. And I’d said yes.

I smiled as I turned and cuddled his pillow, smelling him. I couldn’t remember a time when I was this content. I drifted off to sleep, happier than I’d been in a long time.

***

Strong arms lifted me back into a wall of muscle, and a deep sexy growl against my ear pulled me away from dreamland. I managed a small sigh and a smile as I reached over my head and tangled my fingers in his hair. The move pulled my breast off the bed, earning me another growl as Matty cupped me. I wiggled my ass against him in response.

He sighed, leaning into my neck and biting me gently. His fingers found mine, twining between them and tugging them away from his head. He moved my hands to the headboard, guiding me to close my fists around the wooden slats. Teeth and tongue burned a trail over my shoulder and down my back. Fingers slid down my sides, up and over the outsides of my breasts, skimming my ribs, and onto my hips before curling into my flesh and holding on tight.

Each breath I let go was ragged. I was so incredibly turned on that I was sure I’d die of combustion if he didn’t offer me some relief soon. He shifted his body over mine slightly, using a knee to part my legs, as his tongue left wet loops around my spine. Releasing the grip on my flesh, his hands suddenly stretched across my lower back, and his tongue traced the words on my flesh.