Chapter 9

Rage

I wake up wrapped around the only woman I’ve ever truly loved. She’s just as soft, beautiful, and sweet as she was all those years ago. Maybe more so now that she was older and had given birth. Her shape was more womanly, her hips more rounded and her breasts were now heavy in my hands. She was no longer a fragile little wisp of a girl I had to worry about hurting when we had sex. This woman was made for a man like me and I was loath to let her slip away, especially after last night.

I was gentle with her because she was still healing. Something about having to hold back and restrain myself made the climax all the more enjoyable. Before I’d thought nothing in the world was more satisfying than a good hard fuck with an enthusiastic partner. Now, I realize my tastes have become more refined. I only want to have sex with one woman and being tender and gentle can be even more arousing if done right.

I hear my phone vibrating somewhere and slide out of bed to look for it. Of course it’s still in my room. I was in a rush to get to Priscilla last night when I realized she was upset in the shower. Thank God I rushed in when I did. I don’t know how much more she could have stood the hot water on her fragile skin.

I rush out and answer it before it wakes up Priscilla, who’s still sleeping soundly. After the scares of yesterday she needs all the rest she can get.

Siege answers when I say hello, “Zen dug up some information on your woman. You might want to come to the clubhouse. We’re meeting to parse through the data. That’s IT speak for trying to make sense of all the fragmented information he’s dug up from state and county sources.”

I can tell by the tone of his voice, he’s trying to be funny, probably to lighten the dark mood that hung over our last meet up.

“I’m leaving now. Don’t start without me.”

I pull on a t-shirt and a clean pair of jeans and grab my cut. Siege sounds frazzled so I don’t wanna keep him waiting, I really need a coffee but that will have to wait. I put on my boots at the door and slide my cut on once I’m on the porch. I see Tracker standing like a sentinel, scanning the area with a pair of binoculars. I jog out to meet him.

“Thanks for being on the lookout last night. I slept better knowing you were on the job.”

He gives me a twitch of a grin. “It wasn’t just me. Evan, Ralph, and Larry are here as well.”

“I’d like to think four men watching my house all night is a bit of an overkill but to be honest, unless I know who the enemy is, I can’t be sure it’s not necessary.”

“Agreed. Don’t worry, we won’t leave until you get back or Siege sends replacements. If any fucker tries to sneak up on your place, he’s gonna get hogtied and escorted the clubhouse for interrogation.”

I slap him on the back and tell him, “Let’s hope and pray the dirty bastards turn out to be stupid enough to show up here twice in as many days.”

He laughs, “That would make our job considerably easier.”

“It would, but I’ve gotta go. Siege said Zen dug up information that might help us figure out what the fuck is going on here.”

“Better run, brother. You know how impatient Siege is to get things done.”

“Oh, I’m all too familiar with how hard-driven he can be.”

When I walk out to get on my bike, I catch sight of Evan with Mister Boots in his arms. It’s a strange sight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in anyone’s arms except Gerald’s. Boots doesn’t normally allow that, that cantankerous feline seems to be softening in his old age.

***

I rush to the clubhouse in time to see Venom scoot into the meeting room. I pick up speed to catch up with him. “How’s Mia and my mom?”

He gives me a disgruntled look. “She’s our mom. I agreed to share her with you, not give her over to you.”

I decide to wind him up a bit. “She called me son yesterday. I think she really likes me.”

“Oh really? I know that’s a damn lie because she doesn’t even call me son and I’m her fucking actual real-life son.”

“I don’t know, man. I think you’re falling out of favor with her. She didn’t even send you croissants.”

“You got croissants and didn’t save me one?” He doesn’t give me a chance to answer before adding, “You’re just bullshitting me like you always do. Want to know how I know?”

I just shrug.

“What word did she use for son?”

I try not to laugh because he’s right. Meli would use the French word for son, and I haven’t a fucking clue what it is.

When I don’t immediately answer, he swears under his breath, “I fucking knew it. I swear to God, if you keep winding me up about shit like this, I am going to beat your ass.”

“Calm the fuck down, Ven. If you weren’t so easy to mess with, people like me wouldn’t get such a fucking kick out messing with you.”

He points at me, making little punches with his finger against my chest to accentuate his point. “I am tired of your shenanigans. You have a shitty sense of humor. You really need to work on that before Mia begins shit talking people. She could get in real trouble for that at school you know.”

His words feel like a gut punch. Suddenly, I’m feeling all kinds of conflicted. Mia looks up to me. She probably would try to joke around like this if she saw me do it. Maybe I need to do better if I’m gonna be in her life. I frown at him but by that time, everyone is settling down around the conference table, so we follow suit.

Siege starts out the conversation by saying, “Zen, Rigs, and our contact at the Las Salinas PD have all been digging for intel and coming up with conflicting information. So, let’s get right down to it. Rigs, why don’t we start with the information from our police contact?”

Rig shuffles around some papers in front of him before speaking. “There were fingerprints all over the bunny box. They also found some trace DNA.”

Ven asks incredulously, “Is that what we’re calling it?”

Rigs shoots him an annoyed look. “Does it matter? You knew what I was talking about, right?”

“Yeah, I get your point. Did he find out who the prints belonged to?”

“Not as of yet. They’re working on scraping together enough evidence to haul Priscilla’s father-in-law in for questioning. If that happens, they’ll take his fingerprints and swab him for DNA. I’m told the fingerprint match will happen relatively quickly, but the DNA will take a week or two at best.”

Siege asks, “Anything else?”

“Nope, our contact is dedicating all his time to the bunny box.”

Zen speaks up, “I found something interesting. Priscilla’s parents went missing seven years ago off the coast of Wilmington, North Carolina. I found out about that because Conrad’s old man filed a missing person’s report. He mentioned a boating incident. Their boat was found on the drift, there was blood, but their bodies were never recovered. From what I could tell, the local police department ruled both as accidental deaths. Said they got caught in a storm surge that likely pulled them overboard.”

Shock roils through my gut. “What? I’m not sure Priscilla is aware that they’ve been declared dead. She told me they live on the East Coast.”

“That’s not all,” Zen says. “There was a hefty insurance policy of 4.3 million dollars that was paid out to guess who?”

Siege growls, “Out with it. This isn’t a fucking game show.”

“One Malcolm Whitmore, Priscilla’s father-in-law.”

“The fuck?” I say looking from one club brother to another. “Why would the beneficiary be the old man rather than Priscilla?”

Zen leans forward and grins. “Because the old man is the one who took out the policy with the approval of the parents. He was listed as the next of kin and the beneficiary, so that means the police and the insurance company would have no need to go digging up additional family members to notify. They created a neat little feedback loop to keep it all between themselves.”

Rigs slaps his hand down on the table. “Maybe Priscilla thinks they’re still alive because they are.” Looking at me, he says, “You told us that Priscilla’s family manipulated her into marrying Conrad in exchange for a stipend. Maybe it wasn’t a stipend, so much as an insurance policy. If they staged their deaths and split the payout, there are a lot of places in the world where a couple could live a nice long time off a few million dollars.”

Relieved that her parents likely weren’t dead, I relax back into my seat. “Priscilla isn’t doing so well right now. I hope and pray her shitty parents are running some kind of insurance scam because I don’t want to see her messed up all over again about them turning up dead.”

Siege speaks up. “Do we actually have any intel on the old man? Malcolm Whitmore has lived his whole life in this town. Someone has to know something about him.”

Zen answers, giving more information than any of us anticipated. “Malcolm Whitmore is seventy-three years old. It took me forever to figure out what he did for a living because all his holdings are run through shell companies. It’s like Russian nesting dolls but eventually I drilled down on how he makes his money.”

“Well, don’t leave us in the dark, brother.”

I glance at Rigs who seems excited to unravel some more of this mystery.

Zen keeps talking. “He’s a hard money lender. Most of his money is in offshore accounts. I’m still tracking down all the businesses he’s lending money to, but one drew my immediate attention. It’s called High Seas Boat Rentals, the very same company that rented Priscilla’s parents the boat that ended up on the drift.”

Words pop out of my mouth before I can stop them. “This whole situation with her parents is shady as fuck. I’ll bet my bottom dollar they’re still alive and living the good life in Mexico or some such shit.”

“I agree,” Siege says. “Unfortunately, they’re not our problem right now. We need to find out who’s delivering dead shit to your house.”

Zen continues talking. “I wonder if there might be an insurance policy on Conrad. I’ve been searching for that, I’ll let you know what I find.”

I turn to Siege. “I’m thinking about having a little sit down with Malcolm Whitmore. Maybe with proper persuasion he’ll tell us what the fuck is going on.”

Rigs advises, “We should wait and let the police have a crack at him first.”

I ask, “Why? They’re fucking useless. We can squeeze information out of him.”

“We need our contact because he has access to a crime lab, so let’s not alienate him just because we’re anxious.”

I hate to admit it, but Rigs is right once again. “Fine, I’ll hold off for now.”

“To be honest, I don’t think we’re gonna find an old man’s fingerprints on the bunny box,” Rigs explains, “Men like him have people for that kind of shit.”

“That’s fine,” Siege interjects. “We’ll track down the fucker that did this and wring information out of him about who’s pulling his strings. I want the person in charge, not their stupid lackey.”

I ask Zen, “Did you run across any information on Conrad’s brother, Ashton? Priscilla said he’s kind of weird.”

Siege snorts a laugh. “Of course he is. Look what kind of family he was raised in.”

Zen shakes his head, “No, I didn’t find much. It’s like he disappeared off the map for almost ten years. But last year he cropped up again, living with Daddy.”

Rigs asks, “So, what the plan?”

Without missing a beat, Siege answers, “I think it’s time for us to be eyes on with these bastards. Dutch, I want you and Tank to go out to North Carolina and talk to the officers about what happened to Priscilla’s parents, maybe snoop around that boat rental company. You’re smart men with experience getting to the truth. It might pay off for us in this situation.”

Tank responds, “We’ll leave right away and keep digging until I find something.”

Siege looks around the table at the rest of us before explaining, “I say we need to be eyes on with old man Whitmore and Ashton. Don’t approach them, just monitor them from a distance. It could be that if we look close enough, the fuckers might end up tipping their hand.”

“I want to be eyes on with the old man,” I tell them.

Siege nods, “Take Ven with you. I’ll send you out some relief this evening.”

Rider chimes in, “I can try to locate and sit on the brother.”

Siege reminds his best friend, “Make sure he doesn’t see you.”

Rider quips, “This is not my first stake out, boss.”

Siege flashes him a quick grin. “I know. A reminder never hurts, especially with you because you’re like bull in a china shop sometimes.”

We all break apart and go our separate ways. I call Priscilla on my way out the door.

When she answers, I ask, “Are you awake, sleepyhead?”

“What in the world did you do to me last night? I feel like I ran a marathon.”

“I’ll let you ride my cock anytime you want. There’s no need to flatter me, Prissy girl.”

She chokes out a laugh, “Maybe I’ll have to take you on another ride if the offer is still open.”

I chuckle, delighted that she’s so receptive to becoming my woman.

I take a deep breath before I tell her the rest, “I have some bad news for you this morning.”

“Is everything okay? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Her voice is worried.

My heart squeezes that she’s concerned about my safety. I quickly reassure her, “No, it’s nothing like that. My club needs me to help them with something and it might take all day.”

“Oh, that’s fine. You love doing things with your club, right?”

She doesn’t need to know that this project involves researching her father-in-law and brother-in-law, so I give her a cryptic response, “I do, and today’s project is something near and dear to my heart.” Reaching my bike, I tell her, “Sorry, I have to run before I get left behind. I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.”

“Alright, be careful out there.”

“I can take care of myself, sweetness. Don’t worry about me.”

She sighs, “I trust you, it’s the other idiots of the world that I worry about.”

My heart warms that she’s protective over me. I reassure her one more time before getting off the phone. Ven is parked beside me. He’s been sitting on his bike with both hands crossed over his helmet, listening to my conversation. “You have fallen from the bachelor ranks, my friend. It’s written all over your face when you talk to her.”

“You sure you’re up to another stakeout after being at your mom’s place all night?” I ask, swiftly changing the topic, because I really don’t want to be having this conversation right now.

He thumps his fist into his chest and smirks at me. “I’m the healthiest man in this club. Besides that, it was quiet, so I got a decent sleep—that’s when Barley quit his snoring.”

“Meli got you sleeping in the dog bed?” I joke.

Ven laughs, “You’re not wrong, I was on the sofa, which believe it or not is the dog’s bed, so we were fighting for it all night.”

“Knowing that beast I bet he won,” I laugh, trying to imagine Ven squeezing himself onto the sofa with a hundred-pound Briard.

Within seconds we get directions to old man Whitmore’s place and we’re off. As my tires eat up the highway, I turn the information I learned over in my mind. My club brothers seem to believe that Priscilla’s parents are alive and living the high life abroad.

The thing is, venture capitalists are notoriously reluctant to give money away. If he’s the kind of man to cut the heads off animals and deliver them as threats, I can see him keeping the money and arranging a real accident for her parents. I guess we won’t know until my club brothers get back from their cursory investigation in Wilmington. Seven years is also a long time for Priscilla to go without talking to her own parents, I wonder if they’ve really gone this long without speaking?

I know she was really angry with her parents because she bowed to their pressure and maybe went no contact with them for a while, but undoubtedly, she started talking to them again when she had Mia. The girl didn’t have much in the way of family, so throwing her grandparents away did not make sense. But how could she not know they were dead for seven years? Realizing she doesn’t know, makes me circle back around to believing they really are alive. I’m running in circles in my mind, and I need to ask her if she has heard from them recently.

Eventually, Venom and I find ourselves on a ridgeline overlooking a posh neighborhood. It’s not the one Conrad and Priscilla lived in, but it was worlds nicer than my little country house. I take my binoculars out of the storage compartment of my bike and Venom pulls out a small drone with a camera attached.

I’m glad Ven is my friend. He gives good advice when I’m trying to find my way through a complex problem and his drones always get the job done. We work well together even if we squabble at times. I guess that’s how brothers are though. We settle down for a long day of surveillance.