WRECKED: GODS OF CHAOS MC, BOOK FOUR (5 page)

BOOK: WRECKED: GODS OF CHAOS MC, BOOK FOUR
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“What is it about these kind of men that make them think they can do anything they want and get away with it?” Slade asked.

“Greed’s a powerful drug,” Ryder answered. “Build a man up that big and he begins to believe he’s invincible, that his money can get him out of anything, buy him anything. He begins to think the rest of us are just pawns in his playground.”

“He has no value for human life, basically,” Lacey said. “I saw it first hand with Monty. He didn’t care about anyone but himself.” Riot reached over and lovingly placed his hand on hers.

“Lacey and Ryder are right,” Grace said. “Hopefully, if we’re careful, we can get Vanessa out of there. Apparently, Royce and his friends like the youngest girls they can find. He throws parties for his rich and powerful friends on his private island, providing dozens of young girls as entertainment to these pricks - politicians, prosecutors, judges, celebrities, businessmen. He then records them and uses the videos against them when he needs something. A few times, some of the girls have tried to press charges or publicly accuse Randolph, but he either settles out of court for huge sums of money or the girls have completely disappeared afterwards. Either way, up till now, he has indeed been untouchable.”

“I hate him already,” Slade grumbled. “Do we get to kill him?”

“Not yet,” Grace said. “One thing at at time. First, we need to get Vanessa out of there.”

“What’s the wife’s story?” Riot asked.

“She’ll give us more details later. All I know is she wants out desperately and she sounded extremely serious about helping get the girls out of his control.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Royce has her on constant lockdown. He only lets her leave when she’s accompanied by himself or a bodyguard. Vanessa is going to fake having a medical problem that requires her to see a doctor, and we’re going to be there to get her out. Hopefully, this part of the plan will be easy to execute. I’m borrowing a friend’s doctor’s office in Portland for the day. I’ll pretend to be the doctor, we’ll take her out the back door, and one of you will be nearby to make sure the bodyguard doesn’t interfere.”

“Sounds simple enough,” I replied. All eyes turned my way. “What?”

“Just when you think something is simple and easy,” Ryder warned, “is when things go to shit. Stay on your toes, Wreck. Simple doesn’t always stay simple.”

“Duly noted,” I nodded, looking down at the table. I knew I had a lot to learn, and I was determined to stay humble about it.

Ryder didn’t have to take me in. I was a hot mess when I arrived, drunk all the time, hating life, completely directionless. Solid Ground and the Gods of Chaos MC had given me a new lease on life. A new reason to keep breathing. I was more than a little bit grateful to them.

“We’ll execute tomorrow,” Grace said, as a little rush of adrenaline sped through my veins.

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

Vanessa

 

 

“I tried taking care of it myself, Royce, but it’s getting worse,” I said. “I need to go to a doctor.”

“Fine, I’ll have someone sent over in a few days,” he replied, with a dismissive wave.

“I’ve already made an appointment for today. I can’t wait,” I replied.

“You aren’t leaving this fucking house, Vanessa,” he snarled. “I’ll have someone come over in a few days.”

“Have you ever had a yeast infection, Royce? Waiting isn’t a fucking option!” For good measure, I began scratching at my crotch in front of him. Just as I’d hoped, he cringed.

“Gross, for fuck’s sake, Vanessa!” he yelled, turning his eyes away as if I’d just shown him a bloody tampon or something.

“Look, it’s a simple fix, but I need some prescription strength medicine. I’m not waiting, Royce, I feel like I’m being eaten alive!”

“Fine, goddammit!” he growled. “I have a meeting today. Travis will take you.”

“That’s fine,” I said. I knew I’d never get out of here without one of them by my side. And it would be easier to get away from Travis. If Royce went, I knew he’d never give me a second of privacy. “My appointment is at noon.”

“Whatever,” he said. He was staring at his phone and sitting on our bed, glancing up occasionally as I dressed. His twelve thousand dollar Italian loafers rested on the black and white striped zebra hide spread on the floor, which I fucking hated with a passion. It was a fitting example of his cold heartedness. All I saw was a tortured, dead animal, and he somehow saw luxury and privilege.

“You need to do more squats,” he mumbled, as I turned my back to him.. “I see a little cottage cheese on the back of your thighs. You aren’t allowed to get fat, Vanessa, you fucking know that. Do I need to put you on a diet again?”

I suppressed a groan, instead turning and smiling at him.

“Is that so?” I asked. “I hadn’t noticed. I’ll make sure to do some extra squats in the gym.” Royce insisted I stay in shape, often complaining about the tiniest things about my appearance. He’d installed a gym in one of the spare bedrooms of our West Hills mansion, and I’d learned the hard way not to argue with anything he told me to do.

He’d never hit me, because he needed to keep up appearances. He was always concerned that he appeared to be the loving husband, and bruises would argue that fact. But he would do other things to punish me. He’d take every computer, magazine, book and television out of the bedroom and leave me locked in there for days with nothing to do but stare at the walls. Or, he’d deprive me of food when he thought I was gaining too much weight.

Once, he’d left me there for three days with nothing to eat or drink. Just when I’d thought I was going to die from starvation, he’d returned from wherever he was, asking if I’d learned my lesson yet. I was too weak to fight then, and after a while, I just learned it was easier not to fight at all.

Instead, I paid attention. I watched him and learned who his friends were. I took notes, copying down his schedule and eavesdropping on his conversations. When he showered or slept, I’d look at his phone and rifle through his emails and text messages.

That’s how I’d discovered what he was really up to. He was extremely careless, really. He’d left a paper trail a mile long and I couldn’t believe that he was so arrogant that he thought he couldn’t get caught. But the secrets he had on all the men he sold the girls to were so big that he seemed to be confident that that was enough, I guess. And it was. So far, he’d gotten away with every despicable act he’d had the nerve to pull.

I knew he wasn’t counting on me rebelling after all these years. He thought I was comfortable with this situation. He thought that the threats he’d made to kill the one person I loved the most was still enough to keep me in line.

He thought I’d only grown weaker over the years.

I couldn’t wait to show him how wrong he was. I couldn’t wait to bring him down, to show him how much he had underestimated me, to show him that I wasn’t going to just sit by and let him get away with taking away my life, with killing my father, with raping hundreds of innocent girls.

Revenge was going to be so fucking sweet.

But we weren’t there yet.

Right now, I was still locked in this prison of luxury with him and Travis and I still needed to get away before I could taste the first delicious bites of revenge.

I walked into the closet, eyeing the oversized Coach bag that held the few things I was taking with me. It wasn’t much. A few pairs of underwear, a change of clothes and a pair of sneakers. I couldn’t risk taking a big bag with me to the doctor’s appointment or it would tip off Travis. I had to pretend everything was normal, as best as I could.

“Don’t forget we have that charity dinner tonight at the Governor’s Hotel. Wear that black dress I bought you last week. Put your hair up and don’t wear that god-awful whore red lipstick you wore last time, either - you looked like a fucking slut with that shit smeared on your mouth.”

“Sure, Royce, whatever you say,” I called from the closet, a small smile forming on my face. The idea of never having to sit across the table from this asshole again at some fake charity dinner was enough to make me kick up my heels in joy.

“Be ready at six sharp. The limo will pick you up here and I’ll meet you there,” he said. He left without a word, the faint clicking sound of the door closing the only indication that he’d gone, other than the oppressive heaviness that followed him everywhere disappearing from the room. I let out a huge sigh of relief, picked up the Coach bag from the floor of the closet and walked back out into the bedroom.

I sat down on the lush king-sized bed, looking around at the eggshell wallpapered walls that had imprisoned me for so long, and for the millionth time since I’d placed that call, wondered what life had in store for me after today.

Everything was going to be different.

I’d slowly stolen little bits of money from Royce’s wallet over the years, and I had it all saved in a few rolls stuffed in a sock in my dresser. I retrieved it, counted it one more time, and shoved the sock into my bag.

There was just a few more things to pack and I’d be ready.

I walked over to the dresser I shared with Royce and opened up the jewelry box on the top of it. Glittering diamonds and gemstones shined up at me and I emptied them all into a scarf, wrapped them up, and placed them in my bag, too. I’d sell them later to add to the nest egg I’d acquired. With a gleeful surge of joy, I slipped the six carat diamond ring off my left hand, placed it inside the jewelry box, and slammed the lid.

I never wanted to see that fucking ring again for as long as I lived. It was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, but I didn’t want anything else to do with it. The other jewelry didn’t have as much of a significance as that fucking ring. I hated it with all my heart.

I finished dressing, wearing a pair of designer jeans, a black and gold printed Yves St. Laurent blouse and black heels. I took one more quick glance around at everything I was leaving behind and my heart fluttered with sweet anticipation.

Freedom.

I was so close.

I walked out of the bedroom, slamming the door behind me with a little more force than usual, the Coach bag slung over my shoulder as I came face to face with Travis.

God, he was an awful man. He knew I’d been kept against my will all these years and he’d never done a thing to help me. Royce was paying him handsomely to make sure I didn’t slip up or disappear, and as I looked up at him now, his black uncaring eyes squinting down at me, I really hoped I pulled this off, because I knew Royce would lay into him for fucking up the job he’d been paid to do.

Part of me hoped I could be around to see it all unfold, but hopefully I’d be long gone by then. I shuddered with the possibility that my plan might fail. I didn’t want to even imagine what Royce would do if it didn’t work and I got caught.

“Heard you need a ride to a doctor?” Travis asked.

“Yes, please,” I said, smiling up at him, my voice laced with sickly sweetness.

“You sick or something?” he grumbled.

“‘I’m having a problem with my pussy,” I replied, smiling again. He wrinkled his nose and turned away. No more questions. Just what I was hoping for. “Shall we go?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said. “Want me to carry that bag for you?”

“I’ve got it, there’s not much in it. Thank you, though,” I said, following him out the door and resisting the urge to look back at the house.

I’d spent enough time there.

I knew exactly what it looked like.

I was done looking back.

I was only looking forward from here on out.

It was raining today and it only seemed fitting. I felt the urge to run naked in the rain, letting it cleanse me of all of Royce’s evil.
Later
, I told myself.

I slid into the back of Travis’s black SUV, my heart racing a million miles a minute. My hands shook slightly and I looked down at my bare ring finger, covering it with my hand so Travis wouldn’t notice its absence. After ten years, the ring had left a smooth indentation around my finger and I wondered how long it would take for that to go away. I wanted absolutely no reminders of the nightmare I’d gone through. No reminders of Royce.

I had enough of them swimming around in my head to deal with and that was enough.

If only I could get my old face back
, I thought. But that would never happen.

I’d never be the same girl as I used to be. Maybe she hadn’t died when my father had blown up our home but she was dead just the same.

It was like someone had pushed the pause button on my life ten years ago and I was finally hitting the play button again.

I had no idea what the future looked like, but it couldn’t be any worse than my past.

***

“Vanessa Randolph. I have an appointment at noon,” I said to the pretty receptionist. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a severe bun at the nape of her neck, and she wore a pair of thick tortoise shell glasses. Travis sat down in the waiting room behind me and began leafing through a magazine.

“Yes, hello Mrs. Randolph, please fill out these forms,” she said. I met her eye and she smiled, before sliding the clipboard over to me. “The doctor will see you shortly.”

I nodded solemnly and took a seat. The waiting room was almost empty, outside of another man sitting silently in the corner. He was huge, with short, sandy blonde hair and light green eyes. He looked over at me quickly before his eyes darted over to Travis. Quickly, he raked his gaze over Travis’s body, appearing to size him up before looking back down at his phone. He wore a long sleeve shirt, but I saw a tiny bit of ink peeking out of the edge of his sleeve.

I’d made that phone call in complete faith, but now that I was sitting here, I had no idea what to expect, or even what kind of people I’d called for help. The man sitting there was big, gruff, and extremely intimidating. My heart raced with fear but then I remembered Royce and what an evil bastard he was.

My life couldn’t get any worse.

All I had was faith and I’d best hold on to it as much as I could if I wanted to get through this. I looked down at the papers the woman at the front desk handed me and saw that they were normal medical intake papers. I began to fill them out, but stopped short when it asked for my name. The last thing I wanted to do was write down Vanessa Randolph, but I did it anyway, just in case Travis looked over my shoulder. I scribbled the name hastily, hoping it was the last time I’d ever have to do that.

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