Chapter 8

CHAPTER

EIGHT

PIKE

That was the big question. Was this Eli? I'm sure I was freaking her the fuck out.

"The method fits, I guess. The eyes." Taking another swallow of water, I tried to peer into the darkness as if it would have the answers I sought. "I want it to be him," I confessed. That would mean he was alive, even if it meant he was even more messed up than I thought. Natasha watched me solemnly, but it did seem as if she understood, which was a relief. She had a sister that she loved—a sister who had a brush with death. That look meant she accepted that wish of mine, and I fell in love a little with her right then.

"I'd take Ronnie any way I could get her, even if she was a little broken," Natasha whispered, confirming that she understood. I nodded, cleared my throat, and rubbed my palms on my jeans.

"Our first few placements were rough, but I'm not sure Eli would remember them. Kent would make him sit in a chair. If he wouldn't sit still, he'd get hit. He had to keep his eyes open." Mine fell shut, trying to block out the memories. I'd failed him then. I hadn't learned he needed me to be there for him in the horror. I'd kept my eyes closed, but he'd had to watch. Natasha had moved over to me, sitting beside me on the lounger, resting her face against my back. "We were small—the two of us. There was a pond there. If Eli didn't listen, Kent would take me to the pond and hold me under — after." The words hung in the air. I couldn't bring myself to say anymore. The memories pressed against me, suffocating.

"Thank you for telling me," she sniffled. I wanted to grumble that I didn't want her pity, but I hadn't gotten comfort like this from another human since my brother would let me hold him. Just for this moment, I wanted to let it play out. Her softness against me was intoxicating—the fall of her dark hair brushed against mine, that peppermint scent in my nose. I could stay in this moment forever. Even talking about that time, reliving it, wasn't so bad as long as she was here with me. The feeling of suffocation, the tightness of my chest, and the memory of drowning were almost bearable.

"I should have protected him. There was no way that he drowned in that pond by accident." Even I could hear the conviction and bitterness in my voice.

She sat up, moving away from me, and I suddenly felt like pulling her back and asking her to lean her face against me again, but she said, "The man with the pond? That was Kent?"

"Lonnie Kent. He ruined our lives." I hated thinking about him but dreamt about him nearly every night. She went stiff, realizing the connection between Eli's drowning and this earlier punishment I experienced.

"I'm going to ask Ronnie what she knows, okay?" I didn't want her to. The thought of her or her sister sinking into that ugly world wasn't something I wanted. It wasn't because I needed the privacy, but only to keep them unsullied. The last thing I needed was someone else tainted by it. "He's probably already on the list, but maybe she can find something else," I said grudgingly. Instead of asking her not to look into it, I said, "Porter and Hubbard. They were in between Kent. There were more, but they weren't that bad."

"Ronnie got the coroner's report. There wasn't that much there. Nothing that would be conclusive. It was a small town, but Ronnie said that it was sloppy. Handwritten notes and signed off as an accidental drowning. Identification was made just by Kent," her voice was sour. "I'm going to have that deep dive on him done." She paused and then very quietly added, "Pike, it wouldn't look good, but I could talk to Maxim." I swung around quickly to look at her.

"What does that mean, Natasha?" Her face was stoic, poised, giving nothing away, but I was sure I wasn't mistaken. "You mean get the Bratva involved? This is confidential, you said."

"It is." She was quick to answer, and I could see where she'd bitten her lip and the wetness against her lashes. Her blouse was rumpled from leaning against me, and I wanted to mess it up even more. I'd never have thought she had so much depth to her. She was giving, warm, and loving.

"I understand involving your sister because she is part of your team, but I don't want you bringing in Maxim." She was generous in her offer, but that would be going down a path with the Bratva for a favor I didn't want to owe. Not to mention, that was too good for Kent. Death was the easy way out, and I wasn't going to let him rest so quickly.

Observing her, I confessed, "I visited Kent years ago. Every year, on the day of my brother's death, he gets another visit. If I find out he has any other fosters, he's a dead man." Kent was a yearly visit. He could try to move, but I had a tracker on that sick fuck. He deserved every beating he got from me, every broken bone, and every kick to the dick. "I'm not letting him off easy. He's my little project. Death is the easy way." I watched her, wondering what she'd say if she knew I had Kent wound tighter than a top even when I was in the cage. Just because I was inside didn't mean Kent was outside my grip.

"If you want a more permanent solution, I could contact Maxim," she persisted.

"I'm a big boy, Natasha," I answered, reaching to touch one of her cheeks. She was a beautiful woman. Interesting and smart — way out of my league. "I appreciate you wanting to help," I paused. "Honestly, the offer is good, but I need to do this my way. I told you something about me. Tell me about yourself. Something I don't know," I asked, wanting to change the topic, but at the same time, it was genuine. There was so much I didn't know about her. I wondered what taking her on an actual date would be like. I didn't have much experience with those things, but I could try. For her, I would make it good.

She scooted a little farther from me on the chair to look at me fully. "I'm not sure how much you know about the Volkov Bratva." She bit her lip, looking uncertain.

"Not that much," I admitted. "Probably what I'm supposed to. They're the Bratva." I shrugged. "It wasn't until a little while ago that I discovered that Dimitri was related to the Volkovs. It was when Maddox's woman was kidnapped. My understanding was that he was hiding out, but I'm not sure why." I picked up one of her hands, turning it over in mine, rubbing my thumb over the meaty part of her palm. "His brother Maxim runs the Bratva, but he seems to be an okay guy." I shrugged. "Dimitri seems willing to call and ask for favors, but I don't fucking know if that's normal or not." What did I know about normal family relations? Literally jack shit.

"Dimitri's father was my uncle on my mother's side. He was a cruel man." She shivered. I did know a little more than I'd said. I knew what happened to Dimitri's father. Alexei Volkov, the pakhan of the Bratva, had been shot dead by his son Maxim in true Bratva style. By all accounts, he was a total asshole. Maxim had taken over his Bratva by force. Dimitri had left that very day and left his brother as the new pakhan of the Volkov Bratva. I hadn't met Maxim, but he seemed okay.

"My mother was afraid of her brother, but she didn't dare say no when he sold her in marriage," she continued. "It was an arranged marriage to someone he needed an alliance with. It is the way the crime families work," she explained. I could tell her that was fucked up, but I didn't bother to say anything. Who am I to say what was fucked up? My childhood was anything but ordinary. Natasha was silent for a moment, entwining her fingers with mine. "My father... he was a complex man. On the one hand, he was fiercely protective of us, but on the other, he was ruthless in his business. He wasn't kind to my mother. There was a lot of yelling behind closed doors and mornings when she wore more makeup than she should have. Later, when I was grown, I understood what that meant. He wasn't unkind to my sister or me but wasn't attentive either. When my mother ran, she did it to protect us from becoming pawns in their world. My father died a few years after we left. Officially, it was a heart attack, but my mother always suspected my uncle orchestrated it. She never said it out loud, but I saw it in her eyes when she told me. I don't want you to think I had a bad childhood. I didn't. Mine was filled with love. It was just also full of rules. Once I was old enough, I understood them. We were hiding from my father and my uncle. My mother took my sister and me and hid us so we wouldn't be forced into the same type of marriage."

"So after Maxim took over the Bratva?"

"My mother was worn out. Ronnie was sick. We were broke, and I think she just got tired. I was starting college classes, but undergrad. So yeah," she trailed off as I increased pressure, massaging her hand. I pulled her other one up to repeat the procedure. Her hands were small and delicate compared to mine, manicured and pale next to my callused skin. It was difficult to think of her afraid and stressed about her sister. I didn't want to stop to analyze it. There weren't very many women in my life. The closest I ever came were the women in my friends' lives, and even that was a new development.

"So he helped."

"Yeah. Max helped," I said quietly. He had helped. It had been initially intimidating to come back into the Bratva world after being on the outskirts of it when our mother pulled us from it, but Max was all in. "I was able to keep going to school. My mom made a deal with him about my sister and me regarding the whole arranged marriage thing." She tilted her head. "I don't think he's old school — much. Women aren't allowed to be involved in running the Bratva, but on the legal side, he's accepted me. I'm good at it. Being a lawyer was a way to ensure that what I did was respected. Max still tries to keep me out of it, which is why I'm here on loan," she laughed. "If he had any true idea what was going on, he'd pull me out of here in a heartbeat." My hands clenched around hers. I didn't want her going anywhere. I'd like to keep her here as an anchor.

"I need you here," I said flatly. "He can't have you."

She leaned forward into me, those tits of hers pressing against her blouse so I could see her nipples hard against the silk. "I'm not going anywhere."

Fuck me.

?

Carrying Natasha into the bedroom, I let her watch me with her storm-cloud eyes as I shed my clothes, kicking my jeans to the side. Her fingers hesitated on the buttons of her blouse, but her legs had started to slide open. Blood surged through my veins as I threw off the rest of my clothes, letting my cock bob free. Her tongue darted out to lick that lower lip of hers. I wouldn't mind if she wanted a taste, but I had other plans in mind right now.

"Go on, sweetheart. Undress for me. Slow." Stroking my cock, I watched her as she undid each button, sliding them through the button holes with exaggerated care, making sure that she trailed her fingers along the exposed skin as she went. "That's it. Show me." I was having a more challenging time not gripping my cock harder, but I wanted the torture. She was so beautiful against the headboard pillows, contrasting with how I'd taken her bent over the bike. Then it had been a quick fuck, but now I wanted to take my time with her. I'd have all night to taste her, hold her, make her mine. The blouse fell open, a lace demi bra exposing pink nipples that pushed against the fabric.

Precum slid over the tip of my cock, and I moved forward on the bed, abandoning my post. "Open your legs wider." She slid them open, letting them fall. "Further. All the way." I shoved the skirt up out of the way, not giving a solitary fuck as the silk flew around her hips that it was going to be ruined. I had already divested her of her panties on the patio, and her pussy glistened, rosy, and pink—plump. Gently, I pulled each globe from the cup of the bra and gave each nipple a quick solitary lick. Hell, she even tasted of peppermint and vanilla. Like a candy cane,

"Touch me," she moaned.

"In a minute." I settled between her legs right next to that beautiful pussy and looked up at her. Nat had her head pressed against the pillows, legs akimbo as I'd asked, and her tits popped out. "You look like you need something, Natty." She squirmed, and it was as if I could see her generate more moisture just by looking at her, her pussy weeping. It was such a turn-on.

"I need you. I need something," she whined.

"Tell me what you want." She frowned down at me, and I blew gently on her pussy, making her arch on the bed. "Fingers? Tongue?"

"Yes. Yes."

Latching onto her with my mouth, I shoved my tongue into her pussy over and over again, grinding my face against the soft folds, nipping at her clit until she screamed. Twisting two fingers up into her channel, raking across her g-spot on each pass, I worked her pussy as her hips arched off the bed, and she held herself rigid. That was my girl. I wanted her to cry my name to the sky. Her pussy fluttered and gushed as she came screaming.

Ripping off the edge of a condom packet, I rolled one on. I couldn't wait to go bare with her. I'd never gone bare with a woman, and the thought of coming inside of her was so hot. Notching my cock to her, I eased in, each inch of her tightening around my cock like a vise. She felt like home to me.

"Look at us. You take me so well. Fuck," I surged the rest of the way, bottoming out. "Fuck." Thrust. "Fuck." Natasha's nails dug into me as my pelvis ground into hers. "Again, damn it. Give me another one." I pressed my thumb against her clit, hoping, stroking that hardened nub patiently. Each stroke into her was heaven as I pounded until I felt her flutter around me, and I could let myself fly over the edge.

I wanted to lay against her forever, but I had to go and dispose of the condom. Still, I pulled her against me, enjoying the feeling of a woman in my bed for the first time in my life. It felt right to have her there.

"I have the implant," she said suddenly. I've gotten tested, too. If you've been tested, we don't have to use one next time." A blush spread up her chest. Trailing a hand over one breast, I weighed the globe gently.

"I got testing done a few months ago. We offer it to club members every six months if they want. I've never taken a woman bare …" I trailed off, thinking about how amazing it'd be. My cock was already hard just thinking about it.

"No pressure."

Instead of speaking, I moved her small hand to my cock. "Oh," she said, her eyes rounded and her lips tipped up in a small smile. She snuggled closer, her leg hitching up onto my hip. "You like that idea?"

"Oh yeah, I like that idea a lot."

?

"I need you to trust me, Eli. I'll be alright." His face was pinched in terror as he watched Kent push me towards the pond and the icy waters.

I woke up gasping for air, my chest tight, my legs thrashing against the sheets. Memories of pond water swirled as I tried to return to the land of the living.

Trying to ground myself, I centered my thoughts around the interlude on the patio. Natasha laying against the lounger as I spread those pretty thighs and licking her until she screamed. Everything about her was soft, from her dark hair that feathered against the cushions to the breathy sighs she gave as she came.

Collapsing on the pillows, my hand wandered to my cock, pumping it hard, stroking myself to thoughts of her pretty face thrown back in abandon, biting those plump lips as she reached for her orgasm. It took me only moments until my balls tightened, and that tingle hit my spine; shuddering, I blew my load to the memory of her, thankful that it was her face I saw.

As I showered, I tried not to overthink things. I'm fucked up. I'm tainted . I'm a failure. These were common negative thoughts for me. The psych at the prison used to tell us in group that negative thoughts were like weeds in a garden. They'd spread, and soon enough, all you had was weeds. You needed to pull that shit out by the roots. The problem was — sometimes all I had was weeds. Those negative thoughts popped up even when I was most diligent. It was like playing whack-a-mole.

Leaning against the tile, I breathed as deeply as possible until I managed to pull myself together. There was shit that needed doing. Last night, I talked to Cross about the warehouse fire again before he left, but he said they'd been unable to find anything besides a pile of rags in a wastebasket. It was a little too convenient for my liking. I was supposed to meet Maddox at the diner. He wanted a little ‘me' time, apparently — needy fucker.

?

The Duck was hopping by the time I got there. Breakfast was one of its busiest times since it was one of the best places to eat in Haverboro. The servers moved among the tables with coffee pots and trays laden with plates stacked with eggs, pancakes, and hash. The smells that hit as I opened the door made me drool as I approached the table Maddox had secured in the corner.

"What's up?" Maddox asked as he looked at me critically with that intense stare that already had me squirming. He was my oldest friend in the world. Well, he was mine . I'm not sure if he thought of me as his anymore. He still thought I'd burned him when we were teenagers — left him hanging out to dry while he got hooked and sent to juvie. What had really happened was that I'd finally caught up to Kent. Going back there had fucked with my head. I'd strung him up like one of those sides of beef in a meat locker and almost killed him. Then, I got so drunk I passed out in my hotel room. So, I let Maddox down. That mistake had sent Maddox down a path he probably wouldn't have followed. He ended up in the military for years. We never talked about it. Shame had been bitter all these years. He'd never asked, and I'd never explained. Our pasts hadn't precisely been a topic of conversation, but I wasn't so sure mine would stay buried. "Got you coffee." He nodded to the cup that still had steam billowing.

"Thanks." Taking a grateful sip, I leaned back in the booth. We liked this spot in the restaurant because it was off in a little nook that kept our conversations private. "It's been rough, to be honest," I admitted suddenly, almost choked up. All these ghosts from the past shoved back into my face.

"I didn't think the first one was a coincidence, but the second one. Fuck, man. These were both placements you had?" Maddox asked. I knew Maddox got it; he'd been in the system, too, so it wasn't as if he didn't understand some of what I'd been through. We had never really talked too much about what foster care was like. I understood fundamentally that not everyone had the experience I had. There were kids put in the system who did all right. Some ended up in caring homes. I had wanted that for my brother and I. We both paused for a minute while the server came to take our order. I had to admit I was starving.

"Yeah, both were abusive." I fiddled with my silverware. "We don't normally talk about this shit. You and me, but I think there isn't any way around it." I felt uncomfortable, my heart beating fast, my skin too tight. Forcing myself to meet Maddox's gaze, I reminded myself that he was my friend, someone in a similar situation.

"Whatever it is. I'm happy to listen, Pike."

"I had a brother," I managed to choke out. His eyes widened, but to his credit, he didn't interrupt. "He was four years younger than me. We went into the system because our parents were in a wreck. Our first — home ." I dripped the word with as much venom as possible. "Lonnie Kent was supposed to be a good one," I started bitterly. "The worker told me that my brother and I would be safe. I was so scared, but she told me he was nice. It couldn't have been further from the truth. I never did figure out if he was bribing people to let him have kids there or what. We ended up there twice. The second time, Eli supposedly drowned in his pond." I realized I had shredded the napkin and moved the pile to the side of the table. "The other murder victims. Porter and Hubbard were in between Kent's placements."

"Were they all abusive?" Maddox asked flatly.

I nodded. "There were a couple of others, too, but they didn't keep us." I saw that resonated with him the concept of not being kept — not being good enough. Those who didn't bother keeping you because you were too much trouble. "Kent wrecked us both. Eli was a different kid. Troubled. He'd take the eyes out of things because Kent made him watch, or he'd be punished. Then I'd be punished." Maddox was silent, waiting for me to finish, but his jaw clenched tight as the implication hit him like bullets. "I'd find him in corners destroying shit. Dolls, pictures, magazines. He couldn't sleep unless the eyes were gone." A part of me didn't want to put the next part out into the world. "I'm not sure if he grew up what kind of man he'd be." Sometimes, I thought of that little boy, compelled to remove others' eyes so they didn't have to look. It broke my heart then, and now it broke all over again.

"Fucking Christ," Maddox ground out. "Sounds like shit was bad."

"Yeah," I said soberly. "It was good." I swallowed. Now that I was confessing, I needed to get it all out—all the stories. I'd put off the conversation with him much longer than I should have. We should have talked about this a long time ago. Even the teenager in me recognized that he would have understood, but I was ashamed then, and even now, there was that part of me that dripped with it. "Maddox, I need you to ask me where I was that night I didn't show up."

"Pike, it doesn't matter to me anymore." He knew instantly what I was talking about, but I'd come this far. It was important that I talk to him now that all the secrets were coming out.

"It matters to me." Raising my eyes to him, I repeated, "It matters." He nodded. "I had gone up for the first time to confront that fucker — Kent. I beat him and then drank until I passed out. I missed our meet and left you hanging. That's where I was. I'm ashamed I let you down."

"Brother," Maddox's hand came across the table. "I'm here for you. It doesn't fucking matter. That's the past, okay? It all turned out the way it was supposed to. Sometimes, our life takes unexpected roads. Back then, was I pissed? Fuck yeah. I thought you abandoned me, and it didn't feel good, but it led me to enter the service, shaping me into the man I am now. Thank you for telling me."

I let him clasp my arm for a second in solidarity. The server bustled up, thank God, just in time to bring our plates, and his arm withdrew. I felt better now that I'd opened the door with Maddox and talked to him about what had happened so many years ago. It had been what caused him to get locked up in juvie. He'd been mad at me for so long, and I hadn't dared to tell him what I had done instead of being there for him.

"So Eli? You think …" Maddox trailed off.

"Maybe? Natasha pulled the coroner's report, but it didn't show anything conclusive. I never allowed myself to believe that he was dead." I forked up some hashbrowns into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully. "I just can't figure out why he'd be doing this. You know … if it were him." This was what I struggled with. If it were Eli, was he so fucked in the head that he hated me? I tried my best. It wasn't enough. I got that. I suppose if he felt the need to punish me like this, then I deserved it.

"Is there anyone else it could be?"

I shook my head, my mind racing through the possibilities. "I don't know. We crossed paths with a lot of messed-up people. But someone this precise, this targeted, it feels personal. They would have to know a lot of this stuff about what happened—all the stuff with Eli, and I don't talk about that stuff." That went without saying because Maddox and I were friends when we were younger, and I never even told him that I had a brother. We never spoke about abuse, either. "There were a couple of guys in lockup. Natasha looked into them. One was a guard who had it out for me, but he was killed in a riot. The other," I trailed off. "Virgil Holder." That brought back some unpleasant memories just thinking about that asshole. I shook my head and had a few more bites of breakfast, but I had lost my appetite. Everything tasted like cardboard, and I didn't think it was the diner's fault. "Holder was there for aggravated assault, but he bragged constantly that he'd gotten away with much worse. He was affiliated with the skinheads. Dude was bad news."

"He didn't like your sunny disposition?" Maddox laughed darkly. As Maddox knew, I didn't like a bully.

"Holder's thing was to find some poor unsuspecting guy on their own. Some newbie." I shrugged. "I just couldn't go along with that shit, not after everything. He didn't like the interruption to his way of doing things. I might have locked him in with someone from the Sinaloa Cartel."

Maddox started laughing. "Jesus. I can see why he's on the list of people who aren't fond of you. Where is he at?"

"He got parole and moved to Yuma, which is suspicious. It's a bit close to the border, but Natasha's information puts him there checking in. That could be faked."

Maddox nodded, his eyes dark and serious. "Seems a little bit of a stretch, though, for someone like that to have that kind of vendetta."

"They fucked him over pretty good." Holder had been bloody and beaten by the time the guards let him out. The rest of my time in lock-up, I'd had to watch my back with Holder, but luckily, the cartel had it out for him already, so it was all a little more believable.

Maddox waggled his eyebrows. "It sounds like whoever's doing this knows you well, knows your history. That's what worries me."

"Yeah, it's why I can't shake the feeling that it might be Eli," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "He was my responsibility, Maddox. I failed him. If he's alive and doing this, I've failed him again."

"You didn't fail him, Pike," Maddox said firmly. "You were a kid yourself. You did the best you could with what you had. None of this is your fault." I wanted to believe him, but guilt was a heavy burden I'd carried for a long time. The server interrupted with a coffee refill, chattering mindlessly about our food, and the droning of the person's voice reminded me that life went on regardless of what was happening in my own life.

"Thanks," I muttered to the server before returning to Maddox. "So what's our next move?"

"We dig," Maddox said simply, picking up his fork. "We dig until we find something. I'll help you look into Kent, Porter, and Hubbard. I'll see what I can dig up on them from my end. Maybe there's something we've missed. I have a guy from the service I can ask for help. I know Natasha has her sister digging, too."

I nodded, grateful for his support. "I'll keep working with Natasha and her sister. They're already pulling everything they can find on those placements." I made a mental note that he knew about Ronnie. I knew I didn't tell him, but obviously, Dimitri had — not that I didn't trust Maddox.

"Good," Maddox said, taking a bite of his food. "We'll get to the bottom of this, Pike. And if it is Eli, we'll find him. Maybe he needs help or something else, but we'll figure it out."

The determination in Maddox's voice was reassuring, and I felt a glimmer of hope for the first time in days. After that, we ate in relative silence. The clinking of silverware and the hum of conversation around us provided a backdrop to our thoughts.

As we finished our meal, Maddox leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on me. "There's one more thing, Pike. If this is connected to the club, we need to be prepared. Dimitri said someone followed you? Did you get Cross to help? Do you want me to send an extra man?" The whole meal, he'd watched me with concern. I had to admit to myself that I enjoyed the feeling of camaraderie that I had with Maddox and Dimitri — the friendship. I could feel he cared. I knew I needed to accept his help, even though it was hard.

"Cross and I came up with a plan for extra security measures last night. I wouldn't mind you looking at them," I admitted, taking the offer. The Brotherhood was a good club with solid security and members who often had training that some of my men didn't. The Cobras were a little bit of a looser membership when I was honest about it. While the Cobras were profitable, the Brotherhood constantly pushed a little harder. Under Roscoe Marsh's lead, they bought land and built quarters for members and a separate club space. This drew serious MC contenders to them — not that we didn't have good members, but they were on another level. I could admit that.

"You got it," Maddox said with a nod.

I paid for our breakfast, and we stood, everything feeling lighter. As we left The Duck, the morning sun brightened the streets, but I still couldn't help but look towards the shadows of the buildings to see if someone was watching. I was starting to get jumpy.

"Let's hit it. I'll ride with you over towards Morinrock," he said. I didn't have it in me to be anything but grateful.