Exquisite Karma (Iron Horse MC Book 4) (20 page)

Anger had me itching to punch him right in his smug, judgmental face, but I knew Sarah would be pissed if-no, when she came back that I’d broken her dad’s nose so I managed to growl out, “I’m doin’ the best I can. You think I’m not tryin’ my best to protect my people? You think part of me doesn’t die every time one of them gets killed? And the missing girls-fuck man, they’re just babies and who the hell knows what kind of sick fucks have them.”

Mike’s hard gaze softened the slightest bit and he nodded. “Being responsible for the welfare of his people is hard burden for any man to shoulder alone. I’ve been in that woman, Taya’s place. Thought I lost my child when Billie took off with Sarah. Worst feeling in my life to think about my child suffering and bein unable to prevent it. I’m going to help you find them because it’s the right thing to do, even if I think you’re a stupid fuck unworthy of my daughter.”

I drained the last of my drink and sighed as the fumes warmed me. “I don’t need your help, you crazy asshole, I’ve got my brothers.”

“True, but one of them is gunnin’ for you.”

And boy did that burn.

“You got any idea who?”

“No. I’ve just started to look into it, whoever he is, he has strong ties to your club.” He sat across from me then crossed his legs, his foot tapping in the air as his gaze went distant. “Something about this whole thing, the timing, is off. If they just wanted to destroy the club they could have gone for a variety of more permanent ways to get rid of Iron Horse. It’s almost like they want to damage the club enough to make it weak, but not destroy it because they have plans for it in the future. Then again, if the merchandise you boys were running isn’t found, you yours are dead in the water.”

I thought about it for a moment, the alcohol mellowing me out when nothing else, other than my woman, could. As much as Mike and I butted heads, quite literally sometimes, we always managed to put our personal issues aside when it came to Sarah. Even though I thought he was a borderline abusive prick, and he hated my guts for being with his daughter on principal, we both swallowed our pride in order to keep Sarah happy.

Deciding to change the tone of the conversation to something more productive, I laced my fingers together over my stomach then said, “Nobody that wanted to take over the club would make it a target like this. The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.”

“Sun Tzu?” Mike asked with arched brows as I quoted the ancient Sun Tzu’s
Art of War
, a book written in the 5
th
century BC. I knew from Sarah he reads that thing like the bible and used to quote from it during long hikes through the wilderness. I also knew from Sarah he liked to use those quotes as an intimidation tactic, to make someone feel dumb because they hadn’t read the book. Unfortunately for him, my grandpa—the one who’d help found Iron Horse—was also a big fan of
Art of War
, and passed on his love of the book to me. In the past, we’d gotten so into our back and forth about battle strategy according to Sun Tzu that Sarah would roll her eyes with disgust and leave the room. Mimi would stay, usually with a bottle of wine, in the corner laughing as things got heated between me and Mike, each of us adamant we were right.

The tanned crinkles around Mike’s eyes deepened as he leaned back in his chair, giving me that look that Sarah called his “bored old wise man taking a shit while bequeathing his wisdom to you on the mountaintop” look. “But Sun Tzu also said, ‘In the midst of chaos, there is also opportunity.’ Nothing like war to start a revolution…but that’s just my opinion.”

I frowned at him, ready to tell him to shove his opinion up his ass, when the door to my office burst open and a smiling Sledge strode in, raised his fists in the air, then shouted, “Vance found the girls!”

Shoving away from my desk, I rubbed my face, unsure I’d heard him right. “What?”

“The girls! They’re okay-well a little banged up but not-you know, hurt.” His smile fell a little and he lowered his voice. “Vance followed up a tip, by himself-the arrogant bastard, and managed to take out the pieces of shit that had taken the girls and rescue them.”

I blinked at him, hope filling my chest. “They’re alive, all of ‘em? How?”

“Yep.” He slapped me on the shoulder. “No idea how-fuckin’ miracle. Don’t know about you, Prez, but I’m pleased as fuck they’ve been found. I don’t give a shit how Vance managed to pull this magic trick out of his ass, but he did and he’s bringin them home. Venom’s with ‘em, as well as a police escort from a couple of the state troopers we have that are loyal to us. They’ll be here in fifteen minutes. We told the families and they’re…man they’re just fuckin’ overjoyed. We all are.”

I bowed my head, the weight of the world still coming to rest on me, but just a little bit lighter. “Best news I’ve heard all day.”

As we left the room I thought I heard Mike mutter, “opportunity in chaos,” but I wasn’t sure.

Sarah

As I stared at the door leading into the cream stucco apartment building, my mind turned yet again to Beach, wondering what he was doing, if he missed me, if he’d ever be able to forgive me. I was still mad at him for believing that I’d fuck the club over with my mom, but right now I’d give just about anything to have him here with me, holding my hand and making me feel safe and loved. Protectively rubbing the hard bump of my warm belly, I stared at an older, blonde woman in a hoochie dress making her way to her car that reminded me of my mother.

Fucking Billie, I still couldn’t believe she’d gotten away. Not that I’d wanted her to be gunned down, but if we’d managed to capture her, she would have been able to give us some information on who the traitors in the MC were.

Most of the men who’d been guarding me and the weapons at that shithole in the mountains had died during the gunfight, and the few who remained hadn’t been able to tell us much. The man who’d tried to force oral sex on me, Peter, used to be a member of Iron Horse back in the day before Beach had taken over. He’d been part of Red’s crew that had been kicked out of the club and had a grudge like you wouldn’t fucking believe against Iron Horse. Peter
hated
Beach, and when a mysterious man had offered him the opportunity for revenge, and money to back it up, he’d jumped on said opportunity. Los Diablos didn’t give a fuck what their members did as long as the money kept coming into the club’s bank account. All he’d been able to tell us was that he answered to a man who went by the name of “Chief”, who kept both his voice and body disguised, leading me to believe Chief was someone well known in the Iron Horse MC.

I was also pretty sure Chief was still down in Austin, as that’s where they’d taken my mother, and that worried me greatly.

Billie…fucking Billie. Stupid, stupid me had hoped somewhere down deep in my heart that my mom would find some shred of decency, some shred of humanity in her, and help me escape. I mean, I was pregnant with her granddaughter for God’s sake. Once again I’d been proven wrong. Her words about being cursed haunted me and I wondered if maybe there was some truth to her deranged beliefs, that there was some genetic switch that would eventually flip in my mind and I’d go as crazy as she was.

She had to be insane. What kind of mother in her right mind would allow her daughter to be sold into sexual slavery? It was easier to believe Billie had no control over her actions than face the hard truth that she just didn’t give a shit about anyone but herself. My stomach curled as I briefly thought about what her life must be like if she was having sex with people like the ones who’d held me hostage for drugs. It didn’t have to be this way, if she’d just once gotten sober and stayed that way I would have taken care of her for the rest of her life so she’d never have to have to sell herself for anything ever again.

Jesus, she was so fucking stupid.

And deadly.

She’d sacrifice anyone and anything in order to save her own life.

I had to find her before she hurt anyone else, but first I needed to get to Swan without anyone knowing who I was.

And that required the help of a very unlikely ally.

Frustration made me antsy and I shifted in my seat, ready to get this evening over with.

People came and went as I sat in the parking lot of the large apartment complex in Boulder with a ring of men surrounding me, invisible to the untrained eye, but there nonetheless. No one was taking any chances with my safety, not after we almost lost more of Vinnie than his leg right below the knee.

My eyes started to burn and I bit my fist hard enough to really hurt as I choked back a sob. They shot Vinnie in both legs and he managed form makeshift tourniquets, but the doctors at the private hospital they transported him to had to amputate his right leg below the knee. The bone, muscle, everything had been shredded by two high-caliber hollow point rounds. While I hadn’t seen him, I was there as my cousin Paul gave us the rundown on his health.

Mimi, who was also Vinnie’s godmother, had lost her mind, and even I made myself scarce as she raged, making my father’s temper look like a gentle breeze.

Seriously, that woman was scary.

Poppy wasn’t doing much better. Her left hand had been smashed, her body battered, ribs broken, and she’d lost a lot of blood, but there were no signs of rape. She’d recover, but she probably would never have full use of her left hand again. They wouldn’t know for sure what had happened until Poppy woke up from her coma, brought on by blood loss. Nobody said it directly, but I knew everyone was praying her brilliant mind hadn’t been damaged beyond repair. Mimi said Poppy was at the same hospital as Vinnie and they were sharing a room together, with my mafia boss grandfather personally watching over them both.  At least I could stop worrying about them for now; no one was getting through the head of the Stefano mafia without an army…maybe two.

A harsh shiver went through me as I realized how close I’d come to dying myself, how much was still on the line. I gripped the plastic steering wheel hard enough that my knuckles hurt, needing to do something to ease the adrenaline pumping through me. Mimi had secured the help of the Dubinski
Bratva
and was trying to negotiate with the Novikov
Bratva
for our safety, but when I’d left it wasn’t going well. I could hear her desperation, something I never thought I’d hear, but she was begging some bastard in the Novikov
Bratva
for help and they kept denying her.

Fury had me clenching my teeth as I vowed revenge against the bastards who made such a proud woman beg.

That anger took my worry and all my fear, all my longing for Beach, and replaced it with a harsh purpose.

Get into the clubhouse, get to Swan, and keep her from getting snatched up, while Mimi swept in behind the motherfuckers who were trying to take my sweet sister and rained down the wrath of God on them.

And trust me, she had a lot of wrath to deliver.

If everything went as planned Mimi and her crew would secure the woods before Iron Horse even knew they were there. The last thing we wanted was people being hurt in friendly fire, and the Enforcers for Iron Horse would shoot strangers first, ask questions later. It was a dangerous mission, but Mimi had some of the best killers in the world at her back.

However, before any of that could happen, I needed to get into the party, and my way in was taking for fucking ever to leave her apartment. I was waiting for her to come out of her surprisingly nice building with a fenced-in pool while I sat in a nondescript black Honda sedan which had seen better days, pretending to play on my phone as I silently cursed her to hurry the fuck up.

The bangles on my wrist covering my “Beach” tattoo clattered in a super-irritating manner as I shifted in my seat and adjusted my short skirt. There were going to be two kinds of women at the party tonight, old ladies and sweet butts. While I couldn’t get away with pretending to be some random old lady, I could get away with being one of the ever-changing pieces of ass strolling through the doors of the clubhouse. The guys at the Denver clubhouse were pussy hounds, and they had more sluts than they knew what to do with, but always had room for one more.

I was nervous about my outfit, but as I checked out my reflection in the rearview mirror, I almost didn’t recognize myself with the prosthetic nose I was wearing. Having spent lots of time in the chair with professional makeup artists, I’ve picked up enough tips and tricks to know how to manipulate things like the length and width of my nose and make it look real. Add some colored contacts and a huge auburn wig and I was sure none of the men from Iron Horse would recognize me. That is, if they even looked at my face. I was sporting enough cleavage to stun the average man into drooling submission.

Still, the men of the Iron Horse MC would be on alert so I couldn’t just go waltzing in there on my own. I needed someone to vouch for me, and that particular bitch was finally locking her door behind her.

Now, I hadn’t known for sure that Nikki Muller, aka Cyclone, was going to the party tonight, but knowing she practically lived at the clubhouse, I was hopeful. She was a sweet butt who’d been with Iron Horse for over five years, who I’d met briefly months ago while visiting the clubhouse. I didn’t know much about her, but what I did know was that she was, for whatever reason, totally loyal to Iron Horse and that she could get me in.

Wearing a tight black and red dress which dipped down far enough in the back to show her pink thong, Cyclone stalked across the parking lot with her fringed black leather purse swung over one arm and her dark curls bouncing with her strut.

Before she made it to her car, a purple sporty little number, I intercepted her.

“Nikki, we need to talk.”

Right away she jerked back, her stance defensive as she looked around the lot. “Who the fuck are you?”

“It’s me, Sarah Star, Beach’s old lady.”

Her lip curled back in a sneer. “Listen, you crazy bitch—”

I held up my hand, wrist out so the bracelets could move enough to show the top of my “Beach” tattoo. “Shut up, I don’t have time for this shit. Last year when you were at the Iron Horse party Khan threw for Beach, you and I talked about your house-cleaning business and we discussed some new marketing options for your website.”

For a moment she seemed dubious, then blinked…and blinked again, then stumbled on her heels back a couple steps.

“Sarah? What the hell are you doing
here
? Beach is losing his damn mind—”

“I know, I know.” Glancing around, I took a step closer. “I need you to get me into the party tonight.”

Her gaze narrowed and she leaned closer as well. “Why do you need me to sneak you in? What’s with this crazy-ass outfit? Why the hell are you hanging out in my fucking parking lot, of all places?”

“We don’t have time for this. You and I both know the rumors that there are traitors in the club are more than just rumors. If I go in there as myself right now, I won’t get two steps before I’m mobbed with people. I need a chance to see what everyone is doing when they don’t think anyone’s watching other than sweet butts, and you know a lot of those sexist assholes think women are too stupid to understand a conversation they overhear. There is no way you haven’t at least heard rumors that there’s a traitor.”

Red spots appeared on Cyclone’s cheeks and I was taken aback by how pissed she got. “I told those motherfuckers there was a traitor trying to start shit. I told them someone called me from the clubhouse and told me Smoke was asking for me! I’d never disrespect him like that.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” she muttered while rubbing her arm with a weird expression. “You think they’re going to do something tonight? Shouldn’t we, like, call and evacuate them or warn ’em or something?”

“No, there should be enough security that if someone does try an attempt, they’d be able to fight them off. They won’t send in a shit ton of people, they’ll send in a few of their best to try and infiltrate the clubhouse and take Swan. And if there are traitors in the clubhouse they might help whoever’s trying to take her.”

“How do you know they’ll do that?”

I shrugged. “It’s what I’d do.”

“And you need
my
help to stop this from happening?”

“Yeah, I do. And I need you to help me look for weird shit, people that don’t seem like they belong. Help me stop them before they hurt anyone else.”

For a moment her gaze wavered then she gave me a brisk nod. “Beach will fuckin’ kill me, but I’ll help you. I’m letting you know right now if shit starts to go bad, I’m getting you upstairs to the panic room. I don’t give a fuck what your plans are, but if you die, I’m as good as dead. Understood?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we still have to get you inside.”

Hard rock music throbbed into the night through the open doors of the clubhouse as I sashayed my way through the parking lot with Cyclone’s arm looped through mine. She’d started to freak out as we pulled up, the realization of how much danger we were in finally hitting her, and I’d slung my arm through hers in both a show of support and warning. There was no way she was abandoning me now, not when I was so damn close.

At the sight of all the Iron Horse cuts, my heart ached for home, for my man, for my people, and I had to blink rapidly so I didn’t cry and smear my thick-as-hell mascara.