Chapter 5

CHAPTERFIVE

Jane was trembling.

Not just her shoulders but her whole body was shaking.

Fear so thick I was shocked it wasn’t choking her as it spilled out with every shallow puff of air she exhaled. Fear that couldn’t be faked or mistaken for anything other than what it was—pure terror. Fear that pissed me right the fuck off and confused me.

What woman—or man for that matter—refused help when what they were up against scared them so badly they trembled from head to toe? But that was exactly what Jane had done—flatly refused the out I’d given her.

“No, Prez,” I heard through the wall, grateful the idiot had zero clue how to be covert. “Don’t call that motherfucker yet. If the bitch didn’t already give him a heads up, I want my visit to be a surprise.”

At that Jane stopped shaking and turned to stone.

My guess, the bitch was Jane and the motherfucker was Zeus.

The biker in the next room got one of the two correct—Zeus was a motherfucker. But for some reason beyond me not being fond in general of men calling women bitches, hearing him referring to Jane as a bitch set my blood boiling.

This had nothing to do with her reaction and everything to do with a place inside of me I was doing my best to ignore. A place that would lead down a path that would be disastrous. Yet it couldn’t be denied I felt something for the woman standing in front of me that went beyond disgust that she was the sister of a piece-of-shit loser.

The door slammed.

Jane jolted.

My blood, already boiling, turned to lava.

“He found me,” she whispered.

I pinched my lips in an effort not to remind her I’d already told her that was going to happen. I, however, didn’t think a biker would get on a plane and fly over the Pacific to make a pick up. I figured he’d nab her when she flew back to the mainland.

“I have to…” she petered out then repeated, “I have to…”

Again she didn’t finish her statement but she did try to step back.

I wasn’t ready to lose the contact, even if that was just my hand on her shoulder. So when Jane attempted to move away I curled my fingers deeper and shook my head.

“We,” I corrected. “We have to regroup. Let me call this in to the office then we’ll plan how we’re going to get you out of this hotel.”

Jane jerked out of my hold while shaking her head.

“No, Davis—”

“Yes, Jane.”

“Davis—”

“Give me one reason,” I cut her off again. “One reason why I should walk away when less than two minutes ago you were so scared you were shaking. Or better yet tell me why you’d rather take your chances going at this alone—with the possibility of you getting nabbed high, and be taken back to your father where you’d live the rest of your life wishing you were dead—than accept my help.”

Something I couldn’t read because I didn’t know her sparked in her eyes. It wasn’t fear, I’d seen her afraid. It wasn’t anger because I’d seen that, too. This was something altogether different.

“You don’t understand,” she quietly murmured.

“Understand what?”

“What it’s like being me.”

The obvious answer to that was she was correct—I didn’t know her personally so I had no clue what her life had been like to understand her as a person. Though I had a suspicion her meaning went deeper than that.

“So explain it to me.”

There was a stretch of silence while her gaze darted around my room. It was identical to hers right down to the art on the walls. She was buying time. But the longer the silence went on, the more I started to doubt she was going to answer, until she straightened her shoulders and pinned me with her gaze.

“Actually, I shouldn’t have to explain it to you of all people,” she began, her voice edging to anger. “Earlier you did what all people do when they find out Trevor is my brother. They paint me with the same brush, thinking they know me, then do exactly what you did, and judge me. When I was a kid it was the parents. When I was in junior high it was my classmates and parents. By the time I hit high school it was my classmates, teachers, parents, and the town. There was nowhere I could go where I wasn’t Satan’s daughter. I was an outcast, dirty, a biker bitch in the making. I’d amount to nothing. I was guilty by association and not one single person took the time to get to know me. I was what my father was and that was it.” Jane paused and frowned. “Same for Trevor. He didn’t stand a chance. He had it worse than I did in a lot of ways. But instead of doing what I did, he proved them right. He became our father. Only in his stupidity he decided to one-up Satan.”

I felt my lips curl in disgust.

“Are you seriously trying to justify what your brother—”

“See, that right there. You’re quick to judge.”

“I’m not judging you, Jane. It sounds to me like you’re making excuses for your brother.”

Without missing a beat, Jane leaned in, jabbed a finger in my direction, and snarled, “Of course it sounds that way to you, because you’re a judgmental asshole who’s made up his mind and can’t fathom there is a difference between an explanation and an excuse. You think you have it all figured out but in reality you know nothing. You don’t know me. You don’t know Trevor or why he is the way he is. And before you say it, I’ve already heard it; it doesn’t matter why he does what he does. But it does. It matters. If you don’t understand the whys and the motivation behind his quest to be the biggest dick he can possibly be you’ll never understand that he will not back down. You’ll never understand that his endgame is death. That’s the only way he bests my father—to go down in a blaze of glory. My brother will never go to jail, he will die first. He will orchestrate his death, he’ll force you to kill him. His only goal in life is to show up my father.”

Jane wasn’t entirely wrong. However, I didn’t need to understand his childhood to know the man he’d become. And if that was me being judgmental so be it. Zeus’s reign of terror was coming to an end and it didn’t matter why he was the way he was. The only thing that mattered was he needed to be stopped.

“What does this have to do with you and why you’re hellbent on giving your father what he wants?”

“I will die before I go back to my father.”

Jesus Christ.

She meant that.

“So, you’d rather die than accept help from me,” I noted.

“I would rather take my chances than be treated like a dirty—”

“You are not a dirty anything,” I cut in, my temper starting to flare. “And at no point have I treated you like you were.”

“No, Davis, you’ve treated me like everyone else does when they find out who my family is. But see, I’m not a little girl starving for attention. I’m not a teenager who desperately wants to fit in and have friends. I have long since discovered who I am.” Jane pointed at herself. “Me. Jane. I am not who they said I was. I know my heart. I know my worth and I do not allow anyone to punish me for losing in the parent lottery. I am not either of them and I will be damned if you or anyone else judges me for anything other than my actions.”

I’m not a little girl starving for attention.

Fuck, but I knew what that was like.

After my father left, my mom had done her best. She’d worked two, sometimes three jobs to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table—meaning I rarely saw her when she wasn’t dog-ass tired. I knew better than to ask her for anything and that included her time.

It seemed the Lawrence siblings had one thing in common—they’d die to prove a point. I was still unclear what Zeus’s point would be other than proving he was a total moron asshole who had not shown his father up but the opposite—he’d become the man he obviously didn’t like. That was just plain stupid. Jane—now her, I understood. Being traded for her father’s debt would mean ugly things for her. A living nightmare. One I could help prevent if she wasn’t so stubborn.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and as shitty as the timing was I had to take it.

I pulled my phone out, saw it was my boss Wilson McCray, and took the call.

“Yeah?”

“Rhode ran some names,” Wilson got straight to the point. “Luke James, enforcer for the Ares MC bought a ticket to Honolulu. He should’ve landed an hour ago.”

“I think he’s already at the hotel.” I looked at Jane and asked, “Luke James?” I relayed the name. “Is that who was in your room?”

“I only know his road name.”

I went back to Wilson, “You hear that?”

“Yeah, Chopper,” he answered, not sounding surprised I was with Jane, nor that we’d already been paid a visit.

“Chopper.”

I didn’t need a verbal confirmation; her eyes widening and her head bobbing was enough.

“That’s him,” I told Wilson. “Did he come alone?”

“As far as we know, yes. But, Rhode’s only ran the officers. Not the members. And seeing as the chapter Satan is the president of is triple the Horsemen, it’ll take a while.”

Fuck. This was not ideal, though Wilson already knew that so I didn’t comment.

“I’ve arranged a flight to Lanai for you and Jane. You have a room at the Four Seasons.”

“Damn, brother, you win the lottery?”

“Something like that,” he grumbled.

I made a mental note to ask him about that comment later.

“When do we leave?”

“It’s private, so whenever you get there. Though the sooner the better. I’ve emailed you Rhode’s report and texted you a picture of Chopper.”

Right on cue my phone vibrated in my hand.

“Great. We’ll leave now. Text me the airport and flight info.”

“Already done.”

Another text vibrated and I ended the call, “I’ll text you when we’re on the plane.”

Wilson didn’t bother with a sign off, he simply disconnected. I lowered my phone and pulled up the text and got my first look at the man who was trying to take Jane. I tapped the screen to enlarge the image and the man was not what I was expecting. If I didn’t know he was a biker and he wasn’t wearing an Ares cut I wouldn’t have guessed he was in an MC. The guy was decent looking, close-cropped beard, short hair, greying on the sides. His white tee under his cut was clean, jeans the same, and the boots on his feet were worn but not worn-out. He looked like every other mountain man I’d met in Idaho and Montana. If you didn’t know who he was you could easily mistake him for a respectable, everyday guy.

I held my phone out and faced the screen toward Jane.

“This him?”

Once again her facial expression answered for her.

“Yeah.”

I thought I’d put the pieces together, but still asked, “How’d he get to you? I mean, the first time in Idaho.”

“He knocked on my front door and I opened it. He wasn’t wearing his cut.”

That tracked.

I could see Jane innocently opening the door to this man—a biker in a cut, especially one bearing her father’s colors, no way. She’d be smarter than that.

“You can tell me the rest on the plane. We—”

“I’m not going,” she stubbornly returned.

I’d had enough.

The woman was impossibly hardheaded.

“Check this, Jane, you’ve got two options. One, you walk out of here on your own two feet and I get you safe. Or, cuff you and carry you out of here and get you safe. I don’t give the first fuck which you pick, but one way or another you’re coming with me.”

Jane crossed her arms and scowled. I was sure the scowl was meant to convey anger. However, the pout on her lips was cute as hell and in no way intimidating.

“So, what you’re saying is not only do I have one man trying to kidnap me but two.”

“You can call it whatever you want. You can also kick and scream and throw a shit fit all the way to the plane. As I said, it makes no difference to me.”

“You’re impossible,” she gripped.

“Back atcha, sister.”

Jane held my eyes and we went into a staredown. I’d give her to the count of thirty before I tossed her over my shoulder and did what I told her I would do. It would suck having to carry her out of the hotel kicking and screaming; the attention that would draw would make it impossible to slip out unnoticed. However, I’d have her to the airport before the police could arrive.

“Why?” she whispered.

On the surface that question was easy. This was what I did, what my job was, what I’d been called to do. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. However, with Jane it ran deeper. The thought of her father getting his hands on her didn’t make my gut roil with disgust—it pierced my heart. The thought actually scared the fuck out of me. Another reaction to her I was actively ignoring.

I decided on the easy answer.

“You know what Takeback does. You know who I am. Do you really think I’m the type of man who would leave you to fend for yourself when I can make you safe?”

“I don’t know what type of man you are, beyond infuriating.”

“Right. Only you would think it’s infuriating I insist on saving your ass.”

Then since I needed this conversation to end, I ended it and did it in a way it would be done—for good.

“You can think whatever the fuck you want about me, Jane. Like you, I long ago stopped caring about other people’s opinions of me. Though I think for me it ended sooner seeing as it was sometime in the fifth grade when my mom and I had to sleep on my aunt’s couch for about a month. Since my aunt wasn’t thrilled to have to put up her sister and nephew she pitched a fit about how much water we were using. Which meant I did what I could to stop the shrill bitch from complaining and only took one shower a week. And since you experienced something similar though very different I don’t need to tell you that kids are dicks. They noticed, made comments, and talked shit. It was then I learned none of them cared my mom was working her ass off. No one gave a shit we were homeless and I was already going through shit at home and I didn’t need more when I was at school. In turn I learned not to give a fuck what anyone thought about me or my mom because none of them knew why we were where we were. So, to end this stupid argument once and for all, you can think whatever the fuck you want to think about me. Call me judgmental, infuriating, an asshole, bossy, controlling, whatever you can think up. Because at the end of the day, I know who I am, what I stand for, and I’m doing the right thing. So what will it be, Jane? Are you walking out of here or am I dragging you out? You got two seconds to decide.”

With that I picked up my backpack off the bed.

Thankfully she made the right decision and grabbed her purse off the dresser.

“I’ll walk out.”