12: END GAME

“What d’ya got?” I ask, perching on the edge of my chair.

It’s been two days since we first came to the clubhouse, and Nova was subjected to a physical examination by Doc and since Falcon began investigating what happened at her house. We haven’t heard from either since.

I’m anxious since this is the first time that I’m getting any news. Anarchy called this meeting, and we’re waiting for Doc to arrive, but he’s running late.

Falcon looks from me to Cannon to Anarchy to Raider and back to me.

“It’s not looking good, dude.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, I know the shit that we install is on point. There’s no way around that security system without disarming it. The system was bypassed internally by someone who knew how it worked or had the code and had access to the system.”

“So, you’re saying that she disarmed it?” I ask in disbelief.

I may be angry at how she pushed me away, but I doubt she’s capable of anything of that magnitude.

Manipulation.

Falcon runs a hand over his bald head and lifts thick eyebrows. “End Game, it’s an inside job. I’m on it in terms of finding out who the fuck it is. Because as soon as I uncover what employee of mine dares to fuck with my company, my reputation, and a client like that...his ass is dead.”

“Get in line,” I snarl, recalling how terrified Nova was to go to sleep last night.

Even with me there, I could see that she was still nervous and had reservations about letting her guard down. I’d gone into her room several times to check on her, and thankfully, she slept like a baby. I, on the other hand, got not a wink of sleep.

“You need to let us handle this, End Game,” Raider says.

Shaking my head, I reply, “Nah, can’t let this shit get past without her knowing that she never has to worry about shit as long as I’m around.”

“This ain’t your battle to fight,” Anarchy snips.

“The moment this fucker touched her...” I shake my head, unable to repeat to them what he’d done to her.

When I called Anarchy, I’d only told him a portion of what was going on. Anarchy and Cannon agreed that she needed to be brought into our protection instantly, and Falcon was called in to discuss what was going on.

“What about it?” Anarchy challenges.

“He crossed an invisible line that he shouldn’t have fucking toed!” I seethe.

“She’s the same as the rest of these citizens around here, End Game. We’d protect them, too, as a club, if it came to it. This ain’t got shit to do with you,” Cannon says.

“Unless it does,” Anarchy says, glaring at me. “Care to tell me who she really is?”

“The new owner of the bookstore,” I mutter.

“Don’t fucking shit me!” Anarchy growls, slamming his palms on his desk as he stands. “Who is she, End Game? I need to know who the fuck we’ve brought onto our property and if she’s a liability to the club. Is this another case of Cannon and Roxie...you screwed her, and now you’ve got the feels for her?”

“No.”

“Trying to get with her?” Falcon suggests.

“No,” I growl, flaring my nostrils.

“Then who. The fuck. Is she?” Anarchy grinds out.

“A friend. Someone I’ve known for a long time.”

“How long?” Raider asks.

“Gotta be a long ass time for you to defy your Prez’s orders,” Falcon states.

“Since foster care.”

“Fuck,” Cannon groans, pulling a hand down his face.

Anarchy continues eyeing me and slowly nods his head. I can see his temper rising and feel his anger radiating off him.

“When were you gonna tell us?” Raider asks.

“Wasn’t.”

“That’s what I thought. So, when I fucking asked you to get details on the store owner, and it started taking you forever, you were lying to me,” Anarchy says.

I nod, clenching my jaws tightly.

“Why?”

That one word bitten out by Anarchy leaves no room for discussion. He wants an answer, and he wants one now. I know that I’ve crossed the line on this one and that I’ll be held accountable for my actions, but I don’t care. I’d do the same thing a thousand times over if it meant protecting Nova.

“Nova’s not some random chick I’ve met. Like I said, I’ve known her since foster care...about fifteen. She lost her parents in a car accident, and no one claimed her. She caught hell in the system because she didn’t have the street smarts and the hard shell the rest of us did. She always wore her heart on her sleeve and was taken advantage of because all she wanted was to please people.”

“That was back in Georgia, though, wasn’t it?” Cannon asks.

I nod.

“You’ve been in touch with her all along?” Raider asks.

“No. We lost touch for several years and just met again when I went into her bookstore to do exactly as you asked,” I say, leveraging a look at Anarchy.

“People change. How much do you really know about this girl?” he asks.

“She’s been through a ton of shit.”

“Ain’t we all,” Raider sneers.

“Even back then. She was depressed, struggling with the reality of her situation, and she had no hope. I was all she had. The only person who had her back and saw her for who she was. The only person who saw her when she was at the end of her rope and gave her a reason to fight on.”

I see the change in Anarchy’s face, and though I won’t place the details out there, he’s already figured it out.

“She was suicidal.” It’s a statement; there’s no question in there, but I nod anyway.

“And you were there with her?”

“Stopped her.”

He nods and pulls his hand down his face.

“How do we know this isn’t some desperate attempt to get your attention?” Anarchy asks.

“She’s not the one that did this. Someone has been disarming her system of that much, I’m sure, and I also can prove it’s from my side. It wasn’t her. They’ve been hacking into the central system with a master code that I’m certain hasn’t been stolen or leaked. The master code changes daily, so it has to be someone with access to our systems,” Raider says.

“Have they stolen anything?” Cannon asks.

“No. Just doing random shit like I told you. Leaving windows and doors open, placing a kitten in her kitchen and then placing it in the sink, leaving potted plants and typed secret admirer cards and notes on her kitchen table. Never taking anything but leaving everything. Simple shit like leaving the refrigerator door open. Things that may drive a sane person insane.”

“Why would someone be after her like that? Who do you employ who knows her personally? Maybe someone from her past has moved into town lately. You got any new hires?” Anarchy asks, looking at Falcon.

“No. Everyone who works for me has been with me for at least a year. Background check thorough and complete. You know my guys have to go through a background check annually.”

“But you said that you think it’s one of them,” Raider points out. “Could there be any other possibility?”

“None that makes sense. Man, this shit is baffling me, but I swear I’ll get to the bottom of it,” Falcon says, peering at me.

“I know you will. The fuckers just better hope that you find them before I do,” I grunt.

“She knows to stay on the property?” Anarchy asks.

“Can’t make her stay. She’s got a business to run. There’s no way that I can keep her from that store.”

“Any employees that can run it in her absence?” Cannon asks.

“She’s got quite a few employees and an assistant manager, but this store is her baby. It’s a dream come true for her.”

“If she doesn’t stay safe, she won’t be around much longer to dream,” Raider says, earning a wicked glare from me.

“The only way we’re going to be able to capture this fucker is if we use her as bait,” Falcon suggests.

I shoot up out of my seat like I’d been hit by lightning.

“The fuck, we will use her as bait!”

“How else are we gonna catch him, End Game? You gotta understand that there’s no way he’ll come after her if he knows she’s not there. Whomever this is, he’s watching the place. He knows when she comes and when she goes,” Falcon explains.

“He could just as easily come to her job,” I argue.

“Not likely. You said yourself the most that he’s done is send flowers and sweet gifts to her job. Anything that would woo any woman. The crazy shit he’s doing, he’s only doing it at her house where he doesn’t have witnesses,” Falcon points out.

“He’s got a point there, End Game,” Cannon says.

Shaking my head, I reply, “Not feeling the shit.”

“What about Roses? Could we use one of them to pose as her?” Raider suggests.

Shaking my head, I say, “No. You haven’t met her, but she doesn’t look like them. They’re all white women, and she’s clearly biracial. Chinese and black.”

“The only way something like that would be possible is to find a woman who looks exactly like her, and that probability is highly unlikely,” Anarchy says. “We can use her as bait or not. If we don’t, he’ll probably go back into hiding. As soon as we let our guard down, that’s when he’ll strike again, and we might not be prepared, End Game.”

I know what they’re saying makes sense, but how can I put her back in the line of fire after I promised to protect her?

“Can’t do that to her. She trusts me to keep her safe. Throwing her right back there would be like throwing her to the sharks and lying to her. Can’t do that...” I leave off the word “again” because they don’t need to know how I’ve failed her in the past.

“What about if he stays at the house with her?” Cannon suggests.

“That’s not gonna work. In the same way that the person sees her coming and going, he’ll see End Game enter the house, and he’ll see his bike there. He’s not going to make a move unless she’s there alone.”

“So, we do what, Falcon? Hand her to him on a silver platter and hope that he doesn’t kill her?” I sneer.

“No. We let her return and have her house monitored inside and out. Everything except for her bathroom. That’s where she’ll handle all private business, like showering, using the crapper, and dressing. Nothing personal in her bedroom.”

“Yeah, and then what? Call the cops to get there when we see the fucker going inside?” I snap.

“Fuck no! We’re going inside! We’ll be not too far away, ready to go in as soon as this bastard crosses the line,” Cannon argues.

“End Game, this is an emotional situation for you, so you’re not seeing it clearly. I get that, but here’s what has to happen. Nova needs to go home after Falcon installs whatever equipment he needs to install. We need to find out where we can set up surveillance not too far from her house without being seen and be ready to go in at the drop of a dime. We’ll have men on her house day and night watching everything, and Falcon will monitor her house internally,” Anarchy says.

“This isn’t sitting right with me,” I say.

“Bro, I feel you. When I had to protect Roxie from her asshole ex-husband, nothing was good enough. No matter what suggestions were made or what plans we put in place, none of it felt good enough until that bastard stopped breathing. But we gotta start somewhere,” Cannon says.

Pulling my hand down my face, I say, “I’m scared to lose her.”

“Thought you two just hooked up again,” Raider says.

‘Not that way. Scared, she’ll go back to that mental place she was in a long time ago and just give up. I can’t let that happen. Not on my watch.”

Anarchy stands and walks to me. Gripping my shoulder in his palm, he says, “We’re not gonna let that happen, brother. We’ll take care of her, but my job is bigger than that. I got a few hundred men that I need to protect, too, and make sure this shit doesn’t blow back on them. Already got my hands full with this bullshit from Aiello. Trust me.”

Though I do, there’s a part of me that still worries.

“How long do you need to set things in place before she can return home, Falcon?” Raider asks.

“One day. Keep her here today and let her go back tomorrow evening after work as if everything were normal,” he answers.

Anarchy stares at me, and I give a single nod just as someone knocks at the door.

“Come in,” Anarchy calls.

The door opens, and Doc and Whiz step inside. Nova has been sitting on pins and needles waiting for the results of her bloodwork since her examination two days ago. I’d turned the notes that Nova received over to Whiz for examination.

“What’d you find, Doc?” I immediately ask.

“Someone slipped her Doxepin. It’s a tricyclic antidepressant used to treat insomnia. Nothing that will poison her, and the dose wasn’t heavy enough to take her out, but it seems that it has been happening over a short period.”

“Elaborate,” Anarchy says.

“She’s given this med to make sure that she sleeps at least eight hours without waking up. This is how the person can easily slip in and out of her house undetected by her. If she’s given this medication nightly, she’s adjusting to it.”

“How have they been slipping it to her?” I ask.

“Easily. Whoever has been slipping into her house, they’re probably doing it when she’s not there, too. I asked her if anyone had access to her food at work, and she said no. If she doesn’t eat at the Dark Horse Diner, then she packs her lunch. We know that Terminator does all the cooking at his diner, and no one’s slipping shit in anything. She says that when she packs her lunch, she keeps it in her personal refrigerator in her office, and her office is locked whenever she’s not in it.”

“So, what is this person slipping it into?” Raider asks.

“Her water. She drinks a water bottle every night half an hour before she goes to bed. She has a shelf beside her refrigerator full of water bottles that she takes room temp. I’m willing to bet every one of those bottles has been tampered with.”

“Can we find out?” Anarchy asks.

“Yeah. I can test them.”

“Problem is getting them out of the house without this fucker seeing them removed. He doesn’t need to know that anything is up. Maybe have her pack them in her lunch bag or a bag that she carries to work...as many as she can and bring them back here so that we can test them,” Falcon suggests.

“Nah, she doesn’t need to bring them back here. He’s probably following her. May even know that she’s here now,” Anarchy says. “Have her take them to the store with her as if all is well. You can pick them up, or better yet, we can have a couple of the Roses go there as if they were on a book-buying mission and leave out with them in bags.”

Everyone except for Anarchy and me snickers at the thought of the Roses in a bookstore.

“Either them or a couple of the Ol’ Ladies,” I suggest.

“Yeah, I’m sure Rox would be down for that. Her, Marlo, Lizzy,” Cannon suggests.

Everyone bobs their head.

“Whiz, what you got?” Anarchy asks.

“It doesn’t match the handwriting of any of Falcon’s employees,” Whiz reveals.

Shrugging, Cannon suggests, “Could’ve gotten a family member or friend to do it for him.”

Shaking his head, Whiz says, “Nah, this ain’t his handwriting or anyone else’s. He used the font from a computer program to create the scrawl that looked like his handwriting. It’s a dead end, but the fucker will slip up, and I’ll catch him as soon as he does. Has she had any communication to her email or phone from him?”

“Not to my knowledge,” I say.

“It’ll happen,” Whiz says confidently.

“In the meantime, we need to figure out how the fuck we put surveillance on her house without being detected,” Cannon says.

“I’ll call the entire Council together for that and include you, End Game,” Anarchy says.

“On that other matter, there were no signs of assault,” Doc says.

I tense up as all eyes turn my way.

“What other matter?” Cannon asks.

Doc looks between them and me, and I shake my head. “Isn’t something she wanted anyone to know about. We handled it. Besides, I had to pressure her to open up to Doc about it.”

“What was it, End Game? We gotta know who the fuck we’re dealing with here,” Anarchy pushes.

“Not this one, man.”

“Doc,” Anarchy says. “Patient-doctor privilege just went out the door.”

“Damnit, Anarchy!”

“Look! You bought this chick onto our property after asking us to help you protect her. You have all of us involved with this shit and expect us to have your back. I don’t have a fucking problem with that, brother, but I can’t do my job without all the facts! I need to know every. Fucking. Thing! It’s the only way that I can protect my men, this family, and her! And you don’t get to tell me how to do that job. Capisce?”

“Yeah,” I grumble.

His attention swings back to Doc.

“It appears that our intruder was not only into giving gifts to Nova but taking things for himself, too,” Doc says.

“Things like what?” Falcon asks.

“Her underwear.”

“This guy’s got a panty fetish?” Cannon asks with incredulity.

“Panties off her body while sleeping,” Doc says, leaving everyone speechless.

“Can I go check on her now?” I ask, feeling violation and outrage on her behalf.

Anarchy nods, and I storm out of the room, slamming the door behind me.