Chapter 21

TWENTY-ONE

GNAW

As a collective group,with some prospects driving a van, we head straight for the address where we know Xavier's phone last pinged. This is done today. I don't really give a fuck how it ends, as long as I have Kyle and it ends.

That is all I give a fuck about.

We've met and devised a plan. Distraction is key. But first, we need someone to talk. It won't be Talon, and I doubt Kyle knows anything at all. She's probably being kept behind lock and key.

The club decided. Divide and conquer. We just don't know exactly where to divide. But we will. After we talk to Talon and show a few of our cards, we will, without a doubt, be able to move forward.

As we pull our bikes into the driveway, I'm not sure if we're going to be ambushed or not. I also don't give a fuck. This needs to be completely done. They are trying to accomplish something that is not theirs to accomplish.

The backup men are on their way as well, coming from different directions. They should all be arriving throughout the night, but this shit starts now.

This war starts now.

Atomic walks up beside me, clearing his throat as he does. "Do you want to lead this?" he asks.

Turning my head, I look at him, staring at his profile for a moment. He lets out his breath slowly but doesn't say anything else. I'm not sure he needs to say anything. Jerking my chin toward the door, I begin to walk.

My brothers are at my back. We're here, and we will be successful.

Because failing is not an option.

It never is.

Instead of knocking on the door the way I probably should, I lift my boot and kick the door. I'm not sure what exactly I expect to find when the door swings open. But it's not a single man sitting in a chair facing me.

"Well, hello," he states.

It's Talon.

He's staring at me, his lips curved up into a grin. He thinks he's funny, or maybe it's more along the lines that he thinks he's got something over us. He doesn't. Even if he tries, I'll just fucking shoot his ass, and that's that. He won't get anything over on the Dark Horse MC—not in the end anyway.

"Where is she?" I demand.

"You're not here for Xavier?" he asks. "I thought you might be seeing as you tracked his phone here."

I don't ask him how he knows that. It doesn't matter. Although it's creepy as fuck that he knows. I almost ask if he's been listening in on our shit. What the fuck has been going on here? Maybe it's not Dennis who is the problem, after all. Maybe it's a brother.

The thought of a brother being a traitor that way causes my spine to straighten and my mind to spin. Thankfully, Atomic is able to shake it off and continue with the conversation. He takes a step forward, and another, until he's just a few feet from Talon.

"You know that we don't give a single fuck about that asshole. We're here for Kyle. Where is she?"

Talon arches a brow, his lips still twitching as if this is hilarious. He doesn't say anything, even though he looks like he's about to burst out into laughter. If he did, I would probably shoot him on the spot.

My patience is hanging on by a goddamn thread as it is. I don't need to hear him be a fucking smartass.

"I give you this woman, and what?"

Atomic doesn't say anything, allowing me to take the lead again. My entire body itches for a smoke. Reaching into the inner pocket of my cut, I take out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

I keep my gaze focused on Talon's. I'm surprised he didn't even flinch when I reached into my cut. That means he wasn't concerned I'd pull out a gun. And that is concerning. If he wasn't worried about that, he's got someone trained on me—on us.

The smoke fills the air, and I close my eyes for just a moment when the nicotine touches my soul. Slowly, I open my eyes and look across the room to him. My eyes focus on his, and I clear my throat.

"You give me this woman, and I won't kill your stable."

"My stable?" he asks, trying to sound confused. It would work, too, if I didn't know they were his and what they were. But I do.

I nod a couple of times. It's my turn for my lips to twitch into a smirk. "Yeah," I say. "Your stable. I got a whole gaggle of bitches that were at your Shreveport house. I would guess the past few days of having them, you've lost some serious cash on their cunts."

There is a moment of silence, and I can only assume that he's trying to gather his composure. I'm not sure how he doesn't know that I have them, especially considering he seems to know just about everything else he's not supposed to.

"So, you didn't use them?" he asks, and I can hear that his voice is full of complete confusion.

Rocking back on my heels, I stare into his eyes, making sure he realizes just how goddamn serious I am.

"We do not deal in skin. No part of it."

He hums, placing his hands on the arms of the chair before he pushes himself to stand. One step, then another, and a third is all it takes to be just a few inches from me. He dips his chin, his gaze focused on mine.

"Those whores you have, they aren't skin?" he asks.

"They're skin, but not the same way," I explain and again wonder how he knows this shit. It's screaming traitor. "They are there of their own volition. They can leave when they want. And we don't rent out their pussies."

"Don't you, though? When a club member comes to your place. When you need something from someone, you use that currency to grease the wheels, so to speak."

If any other man said those words, I might agree with them. But I refuse to agree with a damn word this man says. "Since you know everything, you know that's not quite accurate."

"And how the fuck do you know everything?" Atomic asks, obviously done with this conversation.

He smirks. "You want your woman, and I want all of them. However will this work?" he asks, shifting the conversation slightly.

Instead of answering his asinine question, I continue to smoke my cigarette. We stare at one another. He smirks the whole time. He appears cocky as fuck, and without a doubt, he thinks he's smarter than all of us combined.

I have fucking news for him, though.

Big news.

KYLE

Once I've eaten,fallen asleep, and woken back up, I frown. I feel drowsy, almost like I was drugged. But that can't be right… can it? It takes me a few moments to get my bearings around me. I think that maybe I could have been drugged.

Crawling over to the door, I press my ear against it. I hear voices. Men's voices. I don't know what they're saying, but one of the voices causes my entire body to freeze at attention. It's him. It's Rider.

I'm not sure if I should bang on the door and scream or let him do whatever he needs to do before he can come and save me. I opt for the waiting, but I really wish I could hear what's happening.

Forcing myself to my feet, I begin to pace. When the moments tick by, and nothing happens, I make my way over to the window. There, beneath my window, is a van, with three men wearing leather vests standing around smoking.

Looking over my shoulder to the door, I decide that Talon and whoever else is talking to him are all too distracted to think about me and what I'm doing. But I know these are Rider's men, and they'll help me.

Lifting my hand, I bang on the glass of the window, but I try not to make too much noise. I don't know how long I do it, maybe five or six times, until one of them finally looks up to me. Frantically, I wave around. I know I look like an idiot, but I don't think I care.

Call me an idiot, then.

I know the moment he's seen me because his jaw goes slack, and he stares at me, mouth wide open and everything. A few moments later, all three of them are staring at me like I'm an exhibit at a freak show of some kind.

Then I see one of them lift his hand, his palm facing me. I try to open the window, but nothing happens. It's secured shut. Tears streak down my face at the thought of being stuck in here. I don't want to even know whatever Talon has planned for me, and I sure as hell do not want to see it come to fruition.

It's my turn for my jaw to go completely slack-jawed and my lips to part as I watch one of the men climb the side of the house. I hold my breath, trying not to scream in excitement. He stops on the roof of the covered porch, and without a word, he wraps some fabric around his wrist and then punches his fist through.

The sound of glass shattering around me is all I hear. I watch as this man lifts his gaze to meet mine as he climbs through the broken window. He doesn't say anything, and then, seconds later, his shoulder is shoved into my stomach before he hoists me over his shoulder.

I should probably be scared or maybe ask some questions. But he's rescuing me, and that is all I care about right now. He's wearing the same patches on his vest as Rider, so I know this is one of his friends. I'm trusting him, partially because of those reasons, but also because there is nobody else I can.

He's saving me.

"Name"s Brew," he states as he begins to climb back down the side of the house with me over his shoulder.

As soon as his feet hit the ground, he slides me down the front of his body and places my feet on the ground. Looking up into his eyes, I open my mouth to tell him thank you, but instead, the sound of gunfire is coming from the house.

"Fuck," he hisses.

Flicking my gaze to his vest, I notice there is a patch with the name Brew, in the exact place where Rider has Gnaw. That must be a name tag thing, then. I don't get the opportunity to ask.

Brew releases me, and he's gone. I watch as he hurries into the house, the other two men following behind him, but I'm not going to stand out here like a walking, talking target. Instead, I hurry into the van, climbing into the back and slamming the door behind me.

Before I realize what is happening, my head shifts, and I lift my eyes. Six pairs of eyes are staring directly at me. I open my mouth, then close it again. I don't know what to say. They're watching me, almost expectantly.

"What are you doing?" one of them asks.

"Hiding from Talon," I explain.

All their eyes widen at my use of my kidnapper's name. It's clear that they know him, and I have to assume they know him really well. Probably better than I ever could or would ever want to know him.

"Talon is inside?" one of them asks.

Her voice is all breathy, and I swear she starts to breathe heavier, almost like she's excited about the fact that he's so close. Maybe she's into him. Maybe she likes whatever it is he's got going on with them.

It's creepy as fuck to me. But then again, whatever floats anyone else's boat is their business. But that doesn't mean I'm not curious, because I truly am just that.

"Do you like him?" I ask.

I've focused my attention on the girl who seems to be the ringleader. I don't want anyone from that house, from Talon's men, to find me out here, but I also don't think I want another woman thinking that I like their man. Because I don't. I want to run as far and fast away from Talon as humanly possible.

"I've always loved him," she murmurs as she dips her chin. "But he doesn't love me back."

It's clear that she doesn't realize how fucked up this man is. Maybe to her, it's normal. Maybe it's that thing where she is in love with her captor. I wish I could ask her some really personal questions.

I want to know her tea. I want to hear it all.

But then again, do I really? Because this might be a more fucked-up situation than Xavier and I ever had.

"I'm sorry," I exhale. "I know what bad relationships are like. I'm still running from mine."

Thinking about Xavier, I want to cry, then scream, then cry some more. I cannot believe that I wasted so many years on him. That I allowed him to waste them as well. Because that's what I did. I let it all happen. Over and over. I should have run on my eighteenth birthday and never, not ever, looked back.

There is a moment of silence before the van door flies open. I watch, my eyes wide as men jump inside, and as my eyes scan their clothes, I let out a sigh of relief that they are Rider's friends, and we're gone.

The van speeds away. Without hesitation, it flies down the road. Not a care in the world about traffic laws, the men behind the wheel are quiet as the van accelerates and rockets forward.

I don't breathe until we hit the interstate.

I don't even know where we are, where I was held, and I could go my whole life without finding out. I don't want to know. I want to never see where I was locked away scared out of my brain for my life, not ever again.

Granted, it was for less than two full days, and maybe I'm overreacting a bit, but that was more than enough time to realize it was a no for me.

Being held captive is definitely not for me in any way whatsoever, not even when I'm the only person in the room. I hated every second of being in that damn room. I can breathe now, just barely.

But beyond the fact that I was kidnapped, held captive, and it was horrible, it was also scary.

Really freaking terrifying.