WRECKED: GODS OF CHAOS MC, BOOK FOUR (7 page)

“Yes,” I replied, my voice sounding weaker than I wanted it to. I took a long, slow, deep breath, summoning the courage to form the words and sentences that had been spinning in my head for years. “First of all, I just want to say thank you so much for helping me. I never could have gotten away on my own. Receiving your number from Diana that day at the news station changed everything. Up until then, I wasn’t sure how I’d ever get away from Royce.” I stared around the table at them, their eyes all turned to me and filled with such kindness and compassion. I hadn’t been looked at like that since my father was alive and it moved me to tears. I blinked hard, biting my lip, trying to figure out where to begin.

“Royce Randolph killed my father. After he killed him, he kidnapped me and forced me to marry him. He was a monster, from the very beginning. I was still a kid, almost eighteen, but I soon figured out that even I was too old for him. He married me because he needed a cover, a wife to legitimize his image, an alibi when he didn’t have one. But he underestimated me. He thought I was weak. He thought I was stupid. But I’m not. I paid attention from the very beginning, figuring out that something was very wrong very quickly. At first, maybe I was weak, I was naive, I was scared - so I went along with him, I believed him when he told me that my father had given me to him before Royce killed him.”

I swallowed hard before continuing, images of my father flooding my mind. Dad, laughing and dancing with me in the kitchen. Dad, teaching me to scuba dive in Hawaii, a snorkel attached to his face as he dove in the water, pretending to be a shark. Dad and Mom, kissing each other in the rose garden outside of our house, long before she was diagnosed. I shook my head, refusing to get lost in those memories.

“Over the years, the truth became crystal clear. I guess because he thought I was so stupid and weak, he allowed himself to be open around me. He wasn’t discreet at all - he’d make phone calls in the same room as me - planning orgies and sex parties with his friends all within earshot. He made no pretense of being faithful to our fake marriage - in fact, he never touched me, thank God. But I quickly learned the reason why. I was way too old for him. The girls he uses are the youngest he can find. Twelve to sixteen or so. It’s disgusting.”

“What a fucking pig,” Ryder muttered under his breath. I nodded in agreement.

“He’s heartless. Cold, calculating, manipulative. He has a knack for finding rich, powerful men that share his sick perverted fetishes and he gives them access to these girls in exchange for favors. They come from all walks of life. Politicians, prosecutors, judges even. Real estate developers, CEO’s, doctors. Royce built a network of these people, collecting them, if you will, along with their secrets, so that if they didn’t provide the favors he needed, he had such damning evidence against them, they’d give him anything he wanted in the end. He’s a snake of the lowest kind. He has no regard for anyone in his life but himself. He’s greedy and relentless. But he’s also arrogant and cocky. And it’s this arrogance that allowed me to easily collect all the information that I did. He didn’t think I’d dig. But I did.”

I paused, taking another deep breath before quickly continuing.

“Most of the parties take place in hotels or Royce’s houses all around the country. He has sex parties, orgies, and arranges one-on-one encounters for the men as well. There’s also his island.”

“He has an island?” Riot asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

“Yes, it’s located between the Decatur and Lopez Islands in the archipelago of the one hundred and seventy islands that make up the San Juan Islands. It’s his own private perverted paradise. He keeps dozens of girls living there, making them available to his friends anytime they want. Usually, they’re flown there on his private jet where he holds lavish, decadent parties that cater to their every whim. Most of their whims happen to be sex with young girls.”

“Where does he get his money?” Slade asked.

“He’s an investment advisor. He counsels the richest of the rich on where to put their money. Usually, that means most of it goes right in his pocket.”

“Where does he get the girls?” Riot asked.

“Lots of different places. Mostly, he buys them from other traffickers, they get passed around a lot. Sometimes, he sends people out to recruit them - picks up runaways at train stations or off the streets. Brings them back, cleans them up and gives them lots of empty promises, if they’ll just be nice to his friends. Most of the time, the girls have nowhere else to go. They’re just kids, really.”

“You were just a kid, too,” Grace said gently. I met her gaze and tears sprang to my eyes again.

“Yes, I know,” I said, swallowing hard. “But I’m not anymore. I want to help these girls. I want to bring Royce and his friends down. I hate the fact that I haven’t done anything. All these years!” I exclaimed, my voice rising, anger rushing through my veins. Anger at Royce, but also anger at myself. “I wish I had done something sooner.”

“We want to help you, Vanessa,” Grace said, “but I want you to realize something that’s very important. You were a victim. None of this was your fault, do you understand? There’s nothing you could have done on your own, you said it yourself. They would have killed you.”

“Yes, they would have,” I whispered, tears falling down my cheeks.

“It wasn’t your fault, Vanessa,” she repeated firmly. “You need to believe that. You need to forgive yourself, because you didn’t do anything wrong. You were just doing what you had to do to survive. And look how strong you are now! Look how far you’ve come. Look where you are now - right here, with us, free from him and his abuse, and what are you doing? Are you running? Are you trying to put it all behind you and forget it? No, you’re out and the first thing you want to do is help get those girls to safety with no regard for your own well-being.” She paused and I let her words sink in. “That doesn’t sound like a victim to me. Not anymore. Listen, Vanessa, it took a lot of strength and courage to do what you’ve done. Remember that. Nobody can take that away from you. Not Royce, not us, not even yourself. You are strong and resilient, most survivors are, that’s how we’ve survived.”

“We?” I asked.

“Yes, definitely we. I’m a survivor. Lacey’s a survivor. All of us sitting around this table have gone through some horrendous things and we’re all here with the same mission. To help those that can’t help themselves. Because we’ve all been there, Vanessa. We all need someone in our lives. Let us be that for you now and you can be that for someone else later.”

I nodded through my tears and Slade reached over, handing me a crumpled up red bandana.

“It’s clean,” he said, smiling at me. I took it from him gratefully, wiping my cheeks and doing my damnedest to stop the tears.

“I can’t thank you all enough,” I said.

“You’ve already thanked us. And you’re welcome. It’s our job to save women like you, Vanessa. You’re here now and we’re going to figure this out together, okay?” Grace said.

“Okay,” I answered, looking around at all of them again. I was usually terrible with names, but each of them was so distinctive and unique that I remembered them all. Grace had taken me around, quickly introducing me to everyone once I’d arrived. Doc sat at the far end of the table, his wild gray hair sticking straight out from the side of his head, his matching gray beard hanging low beneath his chin. Slade sat next to him, charmingly flashing his crooked grin periodically. Riot and Lacey sat together, intently listening to my every word, Lacey’s eyes filling up with tears when mine did. Ryder sat stoically next to Grace, his body exuding a heated anger that grew as my story continued.

And then there was Wreck. He sat quietly next to Slade, staring at me with a calm, steady gaze that unnerved me. I’d pushed the idea of him looking like Jesse out of my mind for now but it was incredibly distracting every single time I looked at him. I felt like I was seeing a ghost.

“Let me tell you a little about us, okay?” Grace said. I nodded, grateful for the break. “A few years ago, I was a cop. Undercover. Vice. I was attacked by a pimp during an undercover assignment and Ryder happened upon us and saved me,” she glanced over at Ryder next to her and smiled softly at him. “After we brought down the people involved, I discovered my partner was in on it, too. It was difficult to go back to being a cop after that. So, together, with Ryder’s club here, the Gods of Chaos, we formed Solid Ground so I could continue my work. It’s been incredibly rewarding. There’s nothing these men won’t do to help a woman who needs help. They’re loyal and brave and bold, which is exactly what is required in situations like this. I couldn’t do it without them.”

“Don’t let Grace fool you into giving us all the credit,” Ryder said. “She does most of the work. Solid Ground is her baby.”

“But we’re a team now,” Grace replied. “Riot is an expert at researching things on the internet and finding people who may not necessarily want to be found. Slade is fearless in the face of danger. Lacey has an intricate past of her own that allows her to bring an insider’s perspective to the table. Doc is a retired Army medic, so in the few instances when we need a doctor, we have our own. Ryder and I together have access to a vast network of people all over the globe that help us with our mission. We’ve got people all over the world looking out for the signs and symptoms that indicate when a woman may need our help, and they reach out to them discretely, just like Diana did with you.”

“That’s all really amazing,” I replied.

“It works, and while it may at first appear that we’re just a bunch of hillbilly bikers living in the woods, that very assumption allows us to do our work without being suspected. We’re very passionate about our work. Now,” she continued, “tell us how we can bring down Royce.”

“Well, I’m not completely sure. I was hoping you could help develop more of a plan with me. I know where the parties are held, I know the upcoming dates but that’s it. I have all this information, but no real plan to be honest.”

“That’s all we need,” Grace reassured me. “Let’s take a break for a bit, maybe get some air and look around a little before dinner. Ryder and I will put our heads together and see what we can come up with.”

“Okay,” I replied, smiling at them all, my gaze lingering on Wreck’s face a little longer than the others. The red angry scar cutting down the side of his face looked fairly fresh and I wondered what happened to him. If his name was any indication, then it must have been a horrible accident.

“You haven’t met everyone yet, but you will. Cherry is in the kitchen, feel free to introduce yourself. She’s a grumpy broad most of the time, but she grows on you. Go for a walk in the woods or something if you want. Dinner should be ready in an hour,” Grace said.

“Thank you,” I said again, my eyes filling with tears once more. I was just so fucking grateful to all of these kind strangers and I had nothing more to give them than my gratitude. I made a mental note to do my best to repay them in the future, however I could. I hadn’t thought much about what my future held before now, never being able to see past escaping, but my horizon was getting a little brighter and bigger with every minute that passed.

Grace hugged me tightly before walking out, and we all slowly streamed out of the War Room and back into the living room of the club house. I was left standing there alone, awkwardness washing over me as I realized I had no idea what to do with myself. I walked out onto the empty porch, staring up at the tall, swaying pine trees overhead. I closed my eyes, inhaling the sweet clean scent of rain that was still lingering in the air.

Footsteps sounded beside me and I opened my eyes and turned my head. My heart fluttered when I saw Wreck standing beside me, his gray eyes looking out towards the trees, too.

“It’s beautiful out here,” I said, my voice soft and low and tinged with the underlying nervousness that had taken root in my gut.

“It really is,” he said, nodding. “Want to take a walk?” he asked, turning and looking into my eyes. The similarities were so striking, they left me breathless. He looked just like Jesse, his eyes, his face, his lips, even his voice sounded similar, but what was I thinking?

Jesse was a boy when I saw him last. Wreck was a man. His face was older than Jesse’s, his eyes darker, his expression harder, his face fuller, his body bigger and more defined, his arms slathered in tattoos and so huge that they looked like they could take down one of those trees if he needed to.

No, he wasn’t Jesse. I pushed that thought to the back of my mind again, determined to leave my past exactly where it needed to be.

“I’d love to take a walk,” I replied, mustering a smile.

He nodded and began walking towards the woods, assuming I’d follow.

And I did. But not without noticing the view that his tight Levi’s provided first.

Wreck

The sun was setting over the trees, but on a day like today, all that meant was that the sky slowly turned from dreary gray to an even drearier, darker gray until it would eventually fade into darkness. I loved days like this. Maybe it’s because I’m a native Oregonian, or maybe I’m just a miserable fuck, either way, it’s so much better to take than the sun beating down on you.

The rain had let up hours ago, but the puddles still remained on the ground, turning the gravel and dirt beneath our feet into a thick muddy soup that we sloshed through. Rain dripped from the edges of the trees like water dripping from wet fingers. But it was the smell I loved the most. Wet, musky, the faint scent of mildew, even. Oregon rain had a way of cleansing away all the built up shit swimming around in my brain. After every good set of showers, I felt like a new man, even if only for a little while.

“So you grew up in Oregon?” I asked Vanessa, who was walking at my side, her thoughtful green eyes sweeping over the trees. She’d just talked through some heavy shit, I figured small talk was in order at this point.

“Yes, you?” she asked.

“Yeah, born and raised,” I replied. “Probably never leave.”