Chapter Eight

Luc

I watched as former Sergeant First Class Victor Marino nervously looked around at his surroundings, waiting for the call to be connected. The second it did, I heard him say, "I need an extraction. I'm on the corner of 5 th and Broad."

"I know," I growled. "Now stand really still."

And just like that, he lowered his phone quickly, turning as I pulled the trigger. I didn't need to look to know I hit my mark. From my vantage point, I felt nothing when the back of his head exploded mere seconds before he dropped to the ground, dead. People screamed, running away. Some stood in shock, uncertain of what they had just witnessed. He had to have known this day was coming after the shit he pulled, which led to me being incarcerated for twelve motherfucking years. But kidnapping and raping a Mafia boss's daughter, then stealing millions from said boss, well... let's just say I did the guy a favor.

Nobody got away scot-free. Though I gave him credit where credit was due. Fucker played a good game of hide and seek, but like all my prey, nothing escaped Indigo when he was on the hunt. Didn't take my brother long to find him either, and when I called to let Vic's former Mafia boss know we found what he was looking for, well, the Mafia boss offered me twenty thousand dollars to take care of it.

Apparently, that was the going rate for rape these days.

However, he was willing to pay one million if I could recover the missing ten million that Victor Marino stole. Which, of course, Indigo did. Only I told the client we recovered half. Fucker cared more about his lost revenue than his own damn daughter. Fucking piece of shit would never win the father of the fucking year award.

I hated assholes like that.

Money didn't mean shit if there was no one around to share it with. Couldn't take it with you when you died. Some people would never understand that family was everything.

Apparently, the Mafia boss didn't get that memo.

It didn't matter, because in the end, the daughter got her justice.

The deadbeat father got a portion of his money back, and the club was now 5.5 million dollars richer.

It was a win-win in my book.

After disassembling my rifle, I headed back to my bike before climbing on, only to pause when I received an incoming text. Reaching into my cut, I swiped the screen to see my granddaughter Soleil smiling at me.

And just like that, everything I was feeling seconds ago evaporated.

I still found it strange that one little girl could evoke such strong visceral emotions out of me. I never let that happen before, but I knew I would happily kill anyone in the world for my granddaughter.

When I embarked on my life, I never imagined kids. Children were a hinderance in my line of work. An obstacle I couldn't afford. I spent the majority of my life in danger, fighting and killing those the government told me to kill. For a while, I was very good at it. I knew what I was getting into because I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to be the one who stood between good and evil.

I had my reasons, not that anyone knew what they were.

Then, like everything else in my life, it all came crumbling down. One decision changed everything; however, I would do it again in a heartbeat.

No questions asked.

Tucking my phone back into my cut, I secured my rifle, then fired up my bike and headed back to the clubhouse.

Riding the coastline, I knew I'd never get over the scenic view when I headed home. The east coast had nothing on the west coast. The Pacific Ocean was raw, unfiltered, dangerous. A playground for all the nasty this world created. From big business to politics to Hollywood, California was nothing more than a cesspool for everything wrong in this world. And I now lived in the middle of it.

I felt restless. Like the calm before the storm. A feeling I was familiar with from my time in the military. Generally, I felt this way before a mission or deployment.

It was an odd, strange feeling.

One I couldn't shake.

Something was coming.

I knew that for sure.

Whatever it was, remained a mystery. All I knew was the longer I felt this way, the more hypervigilant I would become.

When I moved the club from North Carolina to Northern California, Indigo found the small town of Destiny. A relatively normal town about thirty minutes north of San Francisco and only a fifteen-minute ride to Purgatory, where my son, Solomon, and his family lived, along with the Golden Skulls. Thirty minutes north of Purgatory was the Wraith Warriors. After the shit that went down with Solomon and the Golden Skulls several months ago, everyone learned that the President of the Wraith Warriors, Wraith, was the biological uncle of my granddaughter, Soleil.

Now, two clubs surrounded the Golden Skulls and anyone one of us would kill to protect that little girl and her family. While none of the clubs had anything to do with each other, the fact was we were all connected by one little girl.

Pulling up to the post office in Destiny, I cut my engine before swinging my leg off my bike. It was still early in the morning and the post office wasn't open yet, but the lobby was. Walking inside, I headed for my P.O. Box to gather the club's mail, when someone walked in behind me. Looking to my left, I quickly glanced at a young woman with long wavy blonde hair facing the opposite wall and inserting a key into the small box before removing a stack of mail.

I thought nothing of it. It was nothing new for residents to have two mailing addresses. Generally, those with a small business out of their homes had P.O. boxes. It was good business too if anyone asked me. Some of those small businesses were owned and operated by single women with children.

Ignoring the young woman, I gathered my mail, then locked my box before leaving. Tucking the mail away in my saddlebag, the woman exited the post office, rushed across the street to the small apartment building, and quickly entered. While the woman looked familiar, she didn't interest me. Getting ready to climb on my bike, I saw something familiar move in the shadows. Narrowing my eyes, I walked toward the lurking man.

"What the hell are you doing, Indigo?"

"Watching."

"Who?"

"Her." My brother nodded, looking at the building the woman had just entered.

"Why?"

"Watch."

Turning to the building, I stared into the darkness waiting for something, anything, to give me a clue as to why Indigo was hunting. When I saw nothing, I groaned. "Want to let me in on the secret?"

Just as the last word left my lips, I saw a light turn on, on the second floor.

"That building has eight apartments. Two on each floor. Four in the front, four in the back."

"Okay?" I questioned.

"According to club paperwork, Anne lives on the second floor."

"And?"

"The woman who just went into the building is London Stewert. Born in Des Moines, Iowa. According to town gossip, Ms. Stewert got out of a bad relationship two years ago and moved here to get away from her abuser. Fucker was beating her."

"Get to the point, Indigo."

"My point is, Ms. Stewert isn't on the lease, and the apartment she is in belongs to our part-time waitress. Only she doesn't live there and neither does Ms. Stewert."

"How do you know that?"

"Been inside the place. It's a decoy, and before you read me the riot act, I knew something was off with her since the night those frat boys put their hands on her. You know me. I don't give a fuck about anything but the club, but when everything settled, Anne bolted. Hasn't been back since. Woman is hiding something."

"You think everyone is hiding something."

"Your point?"

Before I could respond, the young woman exited the building, hurriedly walking over to a car before jumping in and pulling away. The second the car was out of sight, Indigo moved.

Following, I said nothing when I ran across the street and into the apartment building, taking the stairs two at a time. Standing before a door, my brother made quick work of the lock and walked in, not bothering with the lights.

He was right.

The apartment was a decoy.

The place was staged perfectly, from the furniture to the pictures on the wall in the apartment, to make it look as if someone lived there. Every surface was pristine. Not a speck of dust anywhere. The couch looked brand new. Even the cushions were still firm, like they were just taken out of the plastic.

"Check the drawers," Indigo ordered as he walked into the bedroom. Opening and closing drawers, I found all the normal items one would have, from silverware to a phone book.

"Dresser and closet are empty," Indigo confirmed, walking back moments later. "She doesn't live here."

Looking around the place, I muttered, "No one does. You investigated Anne. What do you know about the woman?"

"Not much. Just the standard shit. Anne Smith, born June 6 th , 1995, to John and Jane Smith, in Providence, Rhode Island. After that, there is absolutely fucking nothing. Not even a school record until she arrived here in Destiny two years ago and enrolled in the community college for nursing. Not one employment record until we hired her two months ago."

"That's fucking vague, Indigo. Sounds fake as hell and made up. John and Jane Smith. You didn't think to dig deeper?"

"I did. Couldn't find shit. Even called Law to help. Asshole found nothing on either woman. Anne Smith never existed until two years ago, and neither did this London Stewert woman. What I mean is that there is no fucking record anywhere about either of them. Even the social Anne gave me was issued two years ago. Her driver's license, issued two years ago. Hell, man, the stamp on her birth certificate is fresh. Like baby fresh."

"She has a kid, Indigo. Or did she make her up too?"

"No. The kid is real."

"What's your gut telling you?"

"Not sure yet, but something ain't right."

"Ever think Anne's hiding from an abuser?"

Indigo sighed. "Thought crossed my mind."

"Leave it alone, Indigo." I groaned. "And stop stalking the woman."

"Wouldn't be stalking her, if she was truthful."

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

My brother shook his head.

Sighing, I relented, "Fine. give you two weeks. If you can't find anything by then, you drop it. Woman has given me no cause for concern. She's diligent, shows up on time, and never causes trouble."

Indigo nodded, looking around the apartment as I headed for the door. "And don't forget to lock up the place. If she is hiding from someone, she will know if anything is out of place."

Back at the clubhouse, I headed straight for my office, only to find Frost sitting behind my desk, clicking away on my computer like he didn't have a care in the world.

"There a vote I wasn't aware of, asshole?"

"Yep. The club still thinks I'm prettier than you."

"About to be deader than me if you don't get the fuck out of my seat."

"Where is the latest file for the club's current client?"

"In Free Money," I muttered, stowing my rifle in the closet. "Which reminds me. Notify the client and tell him to never call us again. Then wipe his information from the system."

"Already did that."

Laying on the sofa in my office, I got comfortable, before stating, "Indigo has a burr up his ass."

Frost smirked. "Yeah. So does Logic."

Fucking great.

It was bad enough Indigo was stalking a club waitress, but Logic?

"What's up Logic's ass?"

"Ivy." Frost smirked. "He can't get a read on her."

"Don't see how. Bitch is here every fucking night, rain or shine."

"Yep, and she's not giving up the goods. Logic believes she's some sleeper assassin sent to take us all out."

I groaned.

Logic believed everyone was an assassin.

That was nothing new.

"Why is he trying to read her?"

"Who the fuck knows?" Frost said, removing a thumb drive from my computer and getting to his feet. He said nothing more when he left my office, shutting the door behind him.

Closing my eyes, I didn't plan on moving until later tonight.