HANDS OFF MY WOMAN: Padre Knights MC by Claire St. Rose (85)

Adam walked towards her and took her chin in his hand, tilting her face up and gently pressing his lips to hers. Dakota smiled and sighed as the kiss broke. She put her coffee down on the table and allowed herself to fall into him. She rested her head against his chest and felt his hands come up and wrap around her, pulling her in close. She could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat in his chest and she closed her eyes and let herself by hypnotized by it.

 

His body pressed against hers was nothing but muscle. Toned abs and strong arms, there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. He was like a tank made flesh and blood, something strong and resilient that could withstand anything. Dakota knew so few people like that. The wealthy of the city were constantly in some sort of crisis. They needed therapy and medication and weeks away from their pampered lives. None of them would ever live like this, in a perfect little house with a tool shed outback. They would surround themselves with expensive things and then worry about them constantly.

 

Dakota knew she was different. She could live perfectly happy in this house. Maybe she could start a little garden where she could prune plants while Adam took things apart and fixed them. She could be a normal woman who got up and went to work every day. She could do it if she knew Adam would be there at night when she got home.

 

“We said we would go to the police first thing in the morning,” he reminded her.

 

“I wanted you to get some sleep. Last night was a late night,” Dakota answered. She was so comfortable and happy. She was fantasizing about a different life she knew she could never have. She wanted the fantasy to last just a little longer. She wanted to be free of a world that had assassins and required bodyguards.

 

“For you, too,”

 

“Yes, but I don’t have to run a successful night club, so I can afford to lose some sleep.” He smiled at that. “I would also like to go to my apartment and put on some pants,” Dakota said, looking down at her bare legs.

 

“Fair enough,” Adam said.

 

Two hours later they were both fully dressed and sitting in an ill-lit, cement block room, one usually reserved for interrogating suspects. In the large mirror set back against the wall Dakota looked at her own reflection next to Adam and then felt his hand gently squeeze her leg. They had told Detective Evans everything that had happened in the garage and now the woman was sitting across from them, her hands folded in front of her, thinking.

 

“So, you heard about this through Twitter?” she asked.

 

“Yeah, but the account’s been deleted. It was obviously someone pretending to be a friend,” Dakota said.

 

“And this Andre person. You think he’s trustworthy?” She asked Adam.

 

“I don’t know, honestly. I don’t think we can really trust anyone at the moment. But someone is still after Dakota, that much we know.”

 

“Do we, though?” the detective asked. “We know you were lured to a location under false pretenses and someone there had a gun and a single shot was fired. It is possible that the person there thought you were someone else, or felt they were in danger.”

 

“But we were led there,” Dakota answered.

 

“Could have been a prank, could have a member of the paparazzi trying to get a one on one. Look, I’m not trying to discredit you. But I have a man in custody, a man who has confessed to everything, to trying to kill two members of the Kane family. I need more than this to officially reopen the investigation. This stays between us, but busting Martin was good publicity for the police department, and I am aware that Mr. Mendel did most of the work there. If we reopen this case, the media is going to be all over it, it’s going to make my boss look bad, and he is not in the business of looking bad. I’m not saying no, but I need some detail beyond a stranger in a parking who may have tried to attack you, and the word of a known drug dealer.”

 

For a moment, no one spoke. The detective was clear in what she needed, but Dakota didn’t have anything to give her. All she had was the fear from last night, the memory of hiding behind a cement partition and praying that the stranger didn’t see her. She could still taste the fear in her mouth; her jaw still ached from holding back tears. She had heard that man’s footsteps. He hand been hunting them; she was sure of it, but how could she prove it?

 

“I will officially advise you to continue to seek protection through Mr. Mendel and Scarred Angels. This all might just be residual shockwaves working their way through the community. The Kanes are a well-known family, this has been a huge media event, and people want to capitalize on that. You might just be on a few more radars than you previously were. My advice is to keep your head down and hope this all blows over. I will bring this to my boss and talk about reopening the case. And, if we’re being honest, Miss Kane, one phone call from you to the mayor or the chief and you can probably get whatever you wanted.”

 

Dakota looked at the detective, unsure of what to say. She didn’t want to have to ask for favors or push her monetary weight around. But she could no longer pretend that nothing was happening, that she was safe, and that the danger was all in her head. She needed to do something. She needed to figure out what was going on. If the police cared more about looking good than actually helping, Dakota would have to take matters into her own hands.

 

Adam held his cellphone out for Dakota. “Call the mayor, or the chief of police, whoever you’ve given more money to,” he said. They were outside the precinct; it was a beautiful, sunny day, a stark contrast to the dark night before and the dank police interrogation room.

 

“No, I can’t,” Dakota said.

 

“Why not!?” Adam demanded, letting the phone drop and staring at her. Why was she so stubborn? Why wouldn’t she let anyone help her?

 

“Because I can’t order the police around. If I do, my case takes priority over someone who doesn’t have any money. And what if I’m wrong? What if it was just another guy in the garage? How would that look if I diverted police resources for it?

 

“Why do you care so much how things look?” Adam demanded. It was crazy to him that she would put people’s opinions of her over her own safety. There was no question that someone had tried to attack her the other night, both he and Dakota knew it, so why wouldn’t she do what needed to be done?

 

“Because when I make a mistake, it’s international news. I just received a condolence card from the Sultan of Brunei!” Dakota yelled, and then her voice quieted, “We don’t use our money to tell the government what to do; that’s not how my father raised me. We support politicians who agree with us, within the bounds of the law, but that’s all. I know it seems stupid and prideful, but I can’t do it, not yet.”

 

“All right,” Adam said. She was right, he had to give her that. Her selfless nature wasn’t just something she used for good press; it was a part of her. Even if it led to her death, she couldn’t let it go. Adam, however, was not so prideful, he would do whatever he needed to in order to protect her. “Then I guess I’m going to talk with the Soul Stealers.”

 

“Fine, but I’m coming with you.”

 

“No, you’re not.” Adam said firmly. “It’s too dangerous.”

 

“If it’s that dangerous, you shouldn’t go either.”

 

“Dakota, please,” Adam begged. “I’m not implying anything about you. I know you’re tough and strong and resilient, but this is different. These guys, they’re an element you’ve never dealt with before. They’re dangerous, cruel, and mean. They only care about your family name for the price it will get them.”

 

“So what’s your plan, then? To just march into their headquarters and demand answers?” Adam opened his mouth to argue, but couldn’t find the words. He didn’t have a plan, but if he did, it would have looked a lot like the one Dakota had just described. “Seriously?” Dakota demanded, “How is that not dangerous?”

 

“Fine, we’ll think of a better plan, but I don’t want anyone to know about your involvement, just me. I’ll tell them I’ve picked up the case again.”

 

“I’ll call the lawyer and have them resend the contract,” Dakota said. “You are actually working for me; it’s only fair that you get paid.”

 

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest, considering our history?” Adam asked.

 

“Let’s think of it less as a conflict of interest, and more as an extra incentive,” she said reaching out and taking his hand with hers.

 

Adam was always surprised when Dakota reached out to him. She was so lovely, and so kind, and so above him. It was like a swan reaching out to a crow. Adam knew he didn’t deserve her, but he certainly wasn’t going to push her away. Her accepted her hand and squeezed it in his.

 

“That guy, Andre, you said he liked money, right? I have a lot of money, more than enough to buy the info we need.”

 

“He might not have the information we need,” Adam said.

 

“Then he can at least tell us who gave him the information. It’ll be a trail we can follow.”

 

Adam looked at her, her ideas weren’t bad, but they were dangerous. She was so innocent, she had no idea what hid in the shadows and lurked under the stairs. Monsters and demons were real. Adam met them; hell, he had worked for them. Not that he had ever told Dakota, but now she wanted to get involved. She wanted to meet and question his underworld contacts. What happens when she finds out? he wondered. What happens when she learns what I’ve done in the past?

 

“Can you hear me?” Adam asked the empty table around him. The lights above him flashed once for yes and he settled back into the booth stirring his drink. In the end, Adam and Dakota had sorted out a compromise: Adam would talk to Andre in the booth his phone on in his front pocket so Dakota and Joey could hear everything. The phone was on mute, so any noise Dakota made wouldn’t come through and tip Andre off that someone was listening.

 

He looked up at the large two-way mirror that lined the west-facing side of Scarred Angels. He reminded himself that no matter what happened she would be safe up there. The steel doors were locked and it would take a rocket launcher to get inside. He could imagine her up there, sitting in front of the light and sound controller, biting her lip from worry. She had promised that, no matter what, she would stay up there, and Adam could only pray she would keep her word.

 

Adam had told Andre to meet him at one, so it was no real surprise when Andre swaggered in at one thirty. Dressed in a red tracksuit and spotless, bright white shoes Andre joined Adam in the booth. There was a forty dollar glass of scotch waiting for him, and Andre took a strong sip as he settled in.

 

“So, you pick that Kane contract back up?” Andre asked.

 

“I don’t want to talk about me. I want to know who gave you the information about the Soul Stealers.”

 

“That information was a grand the other night, but the price has only gone up.”

 

“Well, I paid you five hundred of that grand already, so let’s remember to knock that off the asking price.” Adam knew that all this negotiating over a few hundred dollars must have been driving Dakota mad. If she were here, she would have thrown the money down on the table and demanded answers, but Adam knew better. This was a dance. Andre trusted no one, not even Adam. So he needed to do this delicately. He needed to keep Andre happy. He needed to get the information without Andre having an incentive to tell the other side that someone was sniffing around. He needed to know who had ordered the hit and get to that person before anyone else could.

 

“Five grand.”

 

“For what?” Adam demanded, rolling his eyes.

 

“For the name of the guy who told me about the Soul Stealers job.”

 

“So, this guy isn’t in the Soul Stealers?” Adam asked. “If he were a member, he never would have talked and you wouldn’t have told me. So, you only have a name; that guy has all the real information.”

 

“Yeah, well, without me telling you the name, you’re stuck,” Andre said, taking another sip of his drink, “so why don’t you call the Kanes and have them route through their couch cushions to find the money, we both know they have it.”

 

“I’ll give you two for it, which is a good deal since the other day you would have told me for one.”

 

“Yeah, but as I told you then, that was a one-time offer. Time has passed; the offer has changed.”

 

“I’m not giving you five thousand dollars for a name. But I will give you two. That’s a lot of money for a couple of words.”

 

“Three, and we’ll have a deal.”

 

Adam pretended to think about it. He ran his hands over the table and let a concerned look cross his face. He waited an uncomfortable amount of time, but Andre didn’t care. The other man stared straight at Adam, patient and waiting. “Fine, three. But if the name doesn’t pan out, you owe me for that money.”

 

“You know it doesn’t work like that.”

 

“And you know that this is my club, you and yours skip the line and get in for free, and that kind of access can be revoked.”

 

“This ain’t the only club in the city.”

 

“But it is the best one.”

 

Andre smiled and said, “The info’s good. I heard from the guy himself. His name is Lance Declor. He used to work at the shipyard, but it didn’t appeal to him. He’s been bouncing around town working here and there, but nobody likes or trusts him enough to bring him on the crew full time.”

 

“Nor should they, considering what he told you,” Adam said.

 

Andre scoffed in agreement and continued, “He lives with his mom on Second Street, but he can normally be found at the Black Mark, you know that bar?”

 

Adam nodded. He had drank at the Black Mark before. It was a workingman’s bar, cheap beer and they didn’t sell food, so smoking was allowed. Adam had stopped going when he quit the temptation had been too strong.

 

“He’s a tall, skinny guy, over six foot, with shaggy brown hair, and a fucking mermaid tattoo on his right arm. My advice, just sit down next to him and shoot the shit, guy can’t keep his mouth shut. He’ll start talking and you can take it from there.” Andre said.

 

“Thanks for the info,” Adam said, “your money’ll be at the door.”

 

Andre nodded, but didn’t move. “This stays between us, but I hope you get them. These Soul Stealers, they’re a mess. They’ve got no idea what they’re doing. It’s causing some real problems in the city, messing up everybody’s business.” Adam nodded and with a heavy sigh Andre stood finished his drink and walked towards the door. Joey had been instructed to give Andre the money while Dakota waited.

 

“Who’s Lance Declor? Let’s go to that bar,” Dakota said the second Adam walked into the office. Joey was standing next to her his arms crossed. “Have you ever been to the Black Mark?” she asked.

 

“We’ve been,” Adam said, “but it’s pretty seedy.”

 

“I can handle it,” Dakota said.

 

“Not dressed like that you can’t,” Joey said.

 

“I’m in jeans and a t-shirt,” Dakota said. And she was, but her jeans were clean and fit perfectly, the t-shirt she was wearing blue and white striped. Nobody was going to think she had bought them from Walmart. There was something about them, they were too nice, too clean, and they fit too well.

 

“You’ll have to change. I have some shirts you can wear,” Adam said, aware that nothing would help. Dakota was too beautiful. There weren’t enough bad clothes in the world to hide that.

 

“So I can come?” she asked. Adam looked at Joey who shrugged. One of them needed to stay and watch the club and a beautiful girl like Dakota might get farther with Lance with than Adam would.

 

“You can come if you promise to listen to me and do as I say,” Adam said.

 

“I can do that!” Dakota answered, pumping one fist in the air.

 

Dakota took a deep breath as she looked at The Black Mark Tavern. She was in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city. The streets were lined with row homes, but every other one seemed to be boarded up, teenagers on their bike sweeping passed her, but they paid her no mind. In dirty jeans, a ratty black shirt, and messy hair, Dakota had never stood out less. She and Adam had ruined her appearance. Her jeans had been dragged through the dirt, she was wearing one of Adam’s shirts, she had no makeup on, and her hair was in a messy ponytail. Had her father never been attacked, Dakota would have never left the house looking like this. But now, standing on a random corner in the city, it was nice to be unrecognized. People looked right through her. It was different, and not entirely bad.

 

Adam had entered The Black Mark five minutes ago. He would be sitting near Lance Declor. Dakota was instructed to sit right next to him and engage him in conversation. If everything went well, he would tell her everything he knew. Dakota took a deep breath and marched towards The Black Mark shaking and nervous. This was not a safe place; her father would have a heart attack if he knew she was there.

 

She swung the door open and gave her eyes a second to adjust. The Black Mark was dark, the windows covered in paper so no sunlight shone through. It was a decent sized place with a long U-shaped bar, a handful of tables, and a pool table in the back. There were about fifteen other people there, the place reeked of cigarette smoke, and Dakota could see the smoke itself wafting around her. She and Adam had seen Lance enter the bar about fifteen minutes ago and she spotted him instantly, sitting at the bar with a beer in one hand, the fingers of his left hand drumming impatiently against the bar.

 

Dakota took her seat next to him and gave him a half-hearted smile as she did so. Even after being “dirtied up,” she was still doing something right and she resisted the urge to make a nasty face as Lance Declor looked her up and down. She hated it when men did that.

 

“Lager,” she said, saying it just as Adam had told her to, and she watched as the bartender dutifully poured her a glass. She needed to find a way to engage Lance Declor, something natural and not-specific that she could say to pull him out of his shell.

 

“Hey there, early day for a lady to get a drink,” Lance said and it took all of Dakota’s efforts to not laugh, maybe this wouldn’t be so hard.

 

“Well, I never proclaimed to be a lady,” Dakota said, taking a gulp from her drink and putting it back down, “and you’re drinking, too, so it can’t be that early.”

 

“Fair enough. I’m Lance, by the way, and if you don’t mind me saying, you are the prettiest girl I have ever seen in this bar,” he held out his hand and Dakota took it and firmly shook.

 

“I’m Amanda, and I worked two overnights, so today is my day off and I thought I’d try somewhere new. Everybody talks about his bar, but I’ve never been before.” Over Lance’s shoulder she could see Adam slumped in a stool, his eyes on the television over the bar, but Dakota knew he was listening to them.

 

“You picked a good bar. We have a lot of fun here. I hope to see you around more often, or at least a little longer today. You know I hate to drink alone, Amanda.”

 

“Me, too,” Dakota said, “but if you’re drinking with me, you need to keep up. Can I get a shot of Jameson?” she said to the bartender.

 

“Make it two, and put them and the lady’s beer on my tab,” Lance said.

 

“Well thank you very much,” Dakota said, giving him a sweet smile.

 

She drank her shot and forced herself not to shudder as the burning sensation cascaded down her throat. Dakota hated whiskey, but Adam told her it was the only shot worth getting. Adam had her eat a big, carb heavy meal before coming to bar. He was hoping it would help her hold her liquor, and Dakota was just hoping she wasn’t going to throw it all up later.

 

“So, what are you doing in the bar in the middle of the afternoon?” Dakota asked.

 

“Well, my job is mostly nights. So that leave’s my day wide open,” Lance answered.

 

“What do you do?” Dakota asked.

 

“I work for some people, let’s leave it at that,” Dakota tried not to roll her eyes as Lance’s sudden pompous nature.

 

“Mysterious,” Dakota said, letting herself start to get bored. She looked around the room, as if there was someone else there she would rather be talking to.

 

“And what do you do?” Lance asked, moving his bar stool closer.

 

“Walmart, I work in the back, dealing with receiving and overnight orders.”

 

“Girl as pretty as you, you should be in the front. You could be a model.”

 

“Ha! Not me, and I’m better in the back, not so good with customers.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve had that problem myself,” Lance said.

 

“It’s hard to find good work in the city,” Dakota said.

 

“Don’t I know it? I’ve been bouncing from job to job for a while now. It’s hard to find people you can trust. But I think I got good thing going now, making some money and connections. Plus, no more working for the man.” That last part was said in a conspiratorial whisper.

 

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” Dakota said. “Time sheets, day off requests, I feel like I have to fill out a form to go to the bathroom. We have all these meetings about values and moral. All I want to do is go to work, put my time in, and get paid. Why do I care about Walmart’s values? They don’t concern me. I got written up the other day for a bad attitude. Can you believe that? All of my work was done perfectly, but I didn’t have smile on my face, so it wasn’t enough. I work in the back; nobody needs to see me smile. I don’t know how much longer I can take it there, but I need the money, you know?”

 

“Listen, if you’re looking for work, I know some people who are hiring,” Lance said quietly.

 

“Oh really, who?” Dakota asked.

 

Lance looked around the bar, peering up and over the taps, looking incredibly conspicuous. Again, Dakota resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his antics. Andre was right; this guy was a joke.

 

“The Soul Stealers,” he said finally said to Dakota.

 

To their right, Adam scoffed loudly, and she and Lance both turned to look at him. Slowly Adam turned away from the television so he was facing Dakota and Lance. He looked them both up and down with a look of disappointment and said, “The Soul Stealers are a joke. No one takes them seriously. Don’t quit your day job, honey.”

 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. The Soul Stealers have gone legit. They have real work and real contacts now. They’re making a lot of money.”

 

“Says who?” Adam asked.

 

“Says me,” Lance responded.

 

“You a member?”

 

“Not yet, but I’m working my way into the ranks, and let me give you a piece of advice; you should get in now. There’s a lot of money to make for people who show their loyalty early and often. Now’s the time to get in; they got more work than they can handle.”

 

Adam pulled his stool closer to Lance. Like Dakota, he had dirtied himself up, his hair and face hiding under an ancient and grease-stained Phillies cap. “What kind of work?” Adam asked.

 

“Protection, moving things, connecting people. The usual sort of work,” Lance answered.

 

“You think you could get me a meeting?” Adam asked.

 

“Well, I was kind of talking to Amanda here, but you’re a big guy. I’m sure they could find something for you to do. Tell you what, I’ll talk to some people here tonight. Meet me here tomorrow and we’ll see what they say.”

 

“Great,” Adam said hitting Lance hard on his back. “Bartender, can I get some shots for me and my friends here.” The bartender was only too quick to respond, pouring more Jameson shots onto the bar. The three of them downed their drinks quickly as Adam asked for another. Dakota’s head was already spinning; she didn’t think she could take much more, so she followed Adam’s advice: a shot and then a swig of beer, only instead of drinking, you spit the shot back into the drink. It was a little awkward, but as long as Lance wasn’t looking right at her, Dakota was able to skip most of her shots.

 

Across the bar, Adam was having better luck. As the bartender continued to pour shots, Lance got less and less steady on his stool, but Adam remained sharp. His firm hand was on Lance’s shoulder keeping him upright. Dakota had lost count of how many shots Lance had swallowed, but by the way he slurred his speech and his eyes seemed unable to focus, she imagined they were close.

 

“So come on, tough guy,” she said to him, pressing her leg against his under the bar. “Give me some stories of life with the Soul Stealers. It sounds more fun than stocking shelves, that’s for sure.”

 

“Okay...all right...” Lance slurred. “But it’s a secret; you can’t tell nobody.”

 

“We promise,” Dakota whispered in his ear.

 

“You know the Kanes?” Lance slurred in a whisper.

 

Dakota’s heart stopped, but she forced herself to remain calm. “I mean, I don’t know them, but I’ve heard of them,” she said.

 

“You, me, and everybody else in this city, sweetheart. You heard about the old man that got shot in his bed?”

 

Dakota and Adam nodded, and Lance stopped and gave them both a look before he continued. “Soul Stealers did it. Somebody hired them, some guy wants the Kanes out of the way – daddy and the hot daughter, no offense,” he said, that last part to Dakota who was desperate to point out the irony.

 

“Why would someone want to kill them?” Dakota asked. Her heart was pounding, she couldn’t breathe, was it really going to be this easy?

 

“No idea,” Lance said with a shrug.

 

“Who hired the Soul Stealers to do it?”

 

Again Lance shrugged, “that’s above my pay grade, honey,” he said. “But I’m going to do some work for them tonight. Maybe after...maybe tomorrow, I meet you here and we talk about it some more. Oh yeah, and I get you a job,” he said pointing to Adam.

 

Dakota wanted to scream. She already knew that someone had hired the Soul Stealers to kill her, but she needed to know who it was. If they couldn’t figure it out, Dakota would never be able to relax again; she would have to spend her entire life looking out for attackers and assassins.

 

“Speaking of work, I gotta sober up,” Lance said, shaking his head and arms as if that would help. “Gotta get to work.”

 

Dakota opened her mouth, not entirely sure what she would say, but she saw Adam give a quick shake of his head and she stopped herself.

 

“I hope you’re not driving,” Dakota said sweetly,

 

“Nope...gotta ride, going to work down at the pier tonight,” Lance said as he stood and then nearly toppled over. Adam caught him and pulled him back onto his feet. Lance laughed and threw three twenties on the table before stumbling out into daylight.

 

“We have to follow him,” she hissed to Adam.

 

“We will; give it a minute,” he said, throwing some more money down onto the bar. “I’ll go out first and look for him. You give me five minutes and then head to the car. I’ll meet you there.”

 

Dakota nodded and Adam headed out the door while she anxiously watched the clock. She was suddenly aware that she was alone in a bad neighborhood in a dive bar, and she was one of only two women here; the other being a chain smoker with a bad dye job and acid washed jeans in the corner. Adam had left. He trusted her enough to leave her alone in this dangerous place. Dakota was determined to make him proud; she pretended to be relaxed, to sip from her beer until a full five minutes had passed. With a nod to the bartender, she walked out into the blinding light and towards her car.

 

She heard footsteps behind her, but knew they belonged to Adam. She turned down a side street to see her car undamaged on the corner where they had parked it. From behind her, Adam remotely unlocked the door and got into the driver’s seat.

 

“Are you okay to drive?” she asked.

 

“I only had one beer. The rest went back into the empty bottle,” he said.

 

Dakota wished she could say the same. The world was spinning a little, and here she was about to go spy on a gang down by docks; she would only have a few blocks to sober up.

 

Adam quelled his embarrassment at being behind the wheel of a Prius, not that it was a bad car, but if anyone at Scarred Angels saw him he would never live it down. But the car was doing what he needed it to do, drive quietly and inconspicuously. Adam caught up quickly with Lance; the man stumbled outside and waited for his ride, a crappy old Chevy. They kept a few cars back and followed the car as it travelled down Delaware Avenue farther and farther south.

 

The cars around them thinned out and Adam allowed more room to come between him and the Chevy, following it closely with his eyes. He was all too aware of Dakota next to him, her thin frame and delicate features. He wished she were at home, tucked away safe in his bed behind a barrage of locks. She was sitting forward in her seat, craning her neck to see the car better. She had no idea the danger he was placing her in, the people she might meet on this dark night.

 

The Chevy made a left turn off the road and towards the river. Adam turned to follow it, turning off the car’s lights as he did so. He could see the taillights of the Chevy a few hundred yards in front of him stopped. Adam slowed down until he was going less than five miles. The only danger now was hearing the wheels on the road. He inched his way closer to the taillights of the Chevy, finally pulling the car to the side, hiding it behind a building.

 

Just a few more yards away were the docks with thousands of shipping containers stacked on top of each other. Everything from silk to toilet paper was stacked up beyond them. The docks were well-lit except for the places where they weren’t, the dark slits between the containers where all sorts of nasty things could happen, something Adam knew about first hand.

 

Then a low roar from behind them that grew in intensity until it was painfully loud as a phalanx of motorcycles roared past the car and over to the Chevy. Adam counted eight bikes and rolled his eyes at their tactics. They were loud and obvious, and subtlety was clearly not something the Soul Stealers understood.

 

“What do we do now?” Dakota whispered.

 

“Hand me the bag,” Adam said. Adam had stocked up before he left Scarred Angels, his gun in its holster. From a black duffel bag, he pulled out two black facemasks and a pair of binoculars. “Put this on,” he said to Dakota, “and make sure that your hair is hidden in it.” He watched as she swallowed nervously and took the mask from him, pulling it over her face and tucking her hair up into it. No one here could know who she was, or who Adam was; it would be too dangerous.

 

Adam slipped the mask over his face; breathing through his nose, he could feel the air fighting with the fabric. He quietly got out of the car, closing the door softly, and saw Dakota follow suit.

 

Hugging the brick wall of the building, Adam led the way, walking quickly and quietly towards the muffled sound of voices. From the corner of the building he could see a group of men about fifteen yards away; not that it was hard, all their lights were on, the parking lot lit up like a Christmas tree. It was shocking to Adam how bad they were at this. They had tried to kill the Kanes three times now and had failed spectacularly each time. They made dumb, rookie mistakes, shooting randomly into a house, attacking Dakota when Adam was there, luring two defenseless girls to a parking garage and waiting too long. Someone was trying to start a gang, but seemed to be doing it in the worst way possible.

 

He reached behind him and felt for Dakota’s hand, it was warm, and shaking slightly and he enveloped it with his own. He crouched low, pulling Dakota with him and quickly jogged from the building to a low cement wall under the cover of darkness. It had been a long time since Adam had been in a position like this, lurking in the shadows, advancing on his enemies, but his body was well trained and it remembered. His senses were on high alert, hearing everything, his brain quickly filtering through it, separating the sounds of the world around him birds, small animals, far away traffic, from his more immediate concerns, close vehicles, footsteps, guns being loaded. His eyes were wide open, his heart beating steady and strong. He was always aware of where Dakota was and what she was doing. Her safety came first, far before his own.

 

He looked at Dakota, making eye contact, steadying her with his gaze, before looking over the cement barrier at the people not far from them. He pulled up his binoculars and one by one checked the faces. There was Lance and two other plain-clothed guys, clearly hired by the Soul Stealers, not yet fully-fledged members. Next were the Stealers themselves, tough-looking guys in leather jackets standing with their arms crossed. There was one older man who seemed to be giving instructions to the others; they were all nodding in agreement at whatever the man was saying. Adam took his time, memorizing each face as it appeared in his views, and then he got to the scrawniest looking member and he held back a gasp. It was Tommy Riser, a man Adam knew.

 

He placed a finger over his mouth, the signal for quiet, and handed Dakota the binoculars. He watched as she carefully surveyed the crowd and then ducked back down, giving him the binoculars back. She shrugged and shook her head, telling him she didn’t know anyone. But Adam wasn’t worried; he knew what to do. He jerked his head to the right and started back to the car, opening and closing the doors silently.

 

“I don’t know who any of those people are,” Dakota said from behind her mask.

 

“I do, and I have plan,” Adam said. He started the car, leaving the lights off and slowly and carefully left the docks behind. Once they were back on the main street he removed his mask and Dakota did the same, carefully putting them back in the black canvas bag.

 

Adam called Joey and waited impatiently as the phone rang.

 

“What’s the word boss?” Joey asked.

 

“You remember Tommy Riser?” Adam asked.

 

“That tweaker? Last I heard he was in jail.”

 

“Well, I just saw him by the docks. He’s out and I need to speak with him privately. Anyone know where he’s staying?”

 

“I can find out. I’ll text it to you.”

 

“Good, and up the protection on John Kane. I want eyes on him twenty-four seven. Something’s up, don't’ know yet, but should know soon.”

 

“Copy. He’s set to be released tomorrow morning. We still good on that?”

 

“Yeah, send two guys to triple check the house and make sure everything is clean.”

 

“It’s done, and I’ll text you that address. Won’t take me long to find out.”

 

Adam hung up the phone and continued to drive north, waiting for the address from Joey.

 

“Are you going to fill me in?” Dakota asked.

 

“One of those guys on the docks was Tommy Riser. He used to work for Scarred Angels, was trying to become a full time member. But then he got into meth and couldn’t get back out. We caught him pimping out his girlfriend who was a sister to a full member. It got bad, the guy almost killed Tommy, but we stopped it. We put the sister into rehab and kicked Tommy out. Last I heard he had been arrested for robbing a corner store, but clearly he’s out now.”

 

“And working for the Soul Stealers?” Dakota asked.

 

“Clearly,” Adam said as his phone buzzed, he glanced down at it and saw an address not far from where they were. “I think I should drop you off at home for this next part.”

 

“No!” Dakota interrupted him. “This is my life and my father’s life. I’m not going to sit at home and hope that nothing happens. I can do this. I can help you.”

 

“Fine, but you do what I say, no questions, no hesitations.”

 

“Agreed,” Dakota said.

 

Bad neighborhood was an understatement. The streets around the Black Mark had been bad, but Tommy Riser’s street was terrible. The houses on the block were all in various states of falling down, some with roofs and walls collapsed. There were no lights on in any of the houses, but people sat on their stoops, smoking something that was neither cigarettes nor weed. Dakota was scared, acutely aware that this was an unsafe place. Adam had offered to take her to his house. He had told her a dozen times she didn’t need to do this. But Dakota knew she was strong enough. Now she needed to prove it.

 

Recidivism rates were high in the city of Philadelphia, and Dakota knew it was because ex-cons had a hard time finding work and a place to live. Not having those two things were potential parole violations, and looking at Tommy’s chipped and peeling outer walls, she wondered what it would be like to call a place like that home. Adam parked a few houses away from Tommy’s, the Prius looking strange on the dilapidated city block.

 

Once out of the car, Dakota hugged herself with her arms. It was dark, most of the streetlights had burnt out and not been replaced. It was too quiet, as if people had fallen silent at Dakota and Adam’s arrival. She knew there were people around, but they made no sounds. It was unnerving. She felt exposed and out of place, out of her depth. Adam started down the street and Dakota followed close behind, keeping her eyes to the ground. They had taken their masks off, and were carrying them in their pockets. Adam had a crowbar tucked up one sleeve and Dakota could see the hard metal where it rested in his hand.

 

Once at Tommy’s door, Adam looked up and down the street, making sure no one was out. Then, using his body to block the view as best he could, he let the crowbar slip down his arm and used it to quickly pry apart the weak lock holding Tommy’s door closed.

 

The door open, Adam and Dakota quickly snuck inside, Adam closing the door as best he could behind them. Dakota resisted the urge to gag as she looked around the apartment. Dirty, half-empty takeout containers littered the floor along with cigarette butts, chicken bones, and used napkins. There was a bare futon mattress against one wall covered in stains. Roaches crawled underfoot and she could hear the movements of rats and mice in the walls. There were burn holes and the lingering scent of stale cigarette smoke was all around them.

 

“Put your mask on and stand in the corner,” Adam ordered. “Don’t use my name or yours. Don’t give away anything that could let him know who you are.”

 

“What about you?” Dakota asked.

 

“He’s knows me. He’s going to know my voice. But I’ve got a plan, so trust me and do as I say.”

 

Dakota nodded and slipped the mask over her face and then they waited. There was nowhere to sit, or at least no where Dakota wanted to sit. This place made her feel so sad. Who was this person who was forced to live like this, whose addiction had brought him to such a terrible and lonely existence? She wished she could have helped him, kept him from ever even getting to this place.

 

They heard a car pull up to the house and the sound of the car door opening and closing. Tommy was home. Dakota retreated to a corner while Adam positioned himself by the door, his hands in a fighting stance, but his gun was still tucked away in his holster. She heard Tommy walk up the stairs and reach for the door handle. As the door swung open, Adam reached out and grabbed Tommy by the collar of his thin t-shirt, pulling him into the room and then slamming him back into the wall, holding him there by his throat.

 

“Don’t make a sound,” Adam said.

 

Tommy Risen looked rough. His hair was a long tangled mess on his head, his face pasty and covered in pockmarks and scars. He was terribly thin, like a tall reed that had been plucked from the water. When he opened his mouth, his teeth were stained brown and green and his yellowed eyes were wide with fear.

 

“Adam, man I didn’t do anything. I never told no one nothing about Scarred Angels,” Tommy whispered desperately.

 

“You working for the Stealers now?” Adam growled.

 

Tommy’s eyes scanned the room and fell on Dakota. He looked directly into her eyes and she almost had to step back from the fear she saw there.

 

“What was I supposed to do? You kicked me out. I went to jail. Won’t nobody give me work other than the Stealers.”

 

“John Kane, who ordered the hit?”

 

“I don’t know. I swear it. Don’t nobody know. Most of the Stealers don’t even know.”

 

“When are they going to attack him next?”

 

“I don’t know,” Tommy said. Adam brought his hand back and made a fist, slamming it into the wall next to Tommy’s head, making a large dent in the ancient plaster. Dakota jumped at the fury behind Adam’s gesture, at the brute strength he showed. “I swear it man. I really do. I don’t know. But I know that the Stealers have been fucking this up big time. The next hit needs to be done right. They hired a pro, a real professional to do it. The backer paid for him. The Stealers are just going to help with transpo.”

 

“When?” Adam said.

 

“I don’t know man. They ain’t using me for that shit. They think I’m weak, and I am Adam. I don’t know anything.” This time Adam’s first hit Tommy square in his stomach and the man doubled over and gasped for breath.

 

Dakota started forward, her instincts kicking demanding she stop Adam, to help the man in front of her in pain. But she had promised to do what Adam said, to wait and be quiet, and so she took a step back away from Tommy.

 

“I swear I don’t know anything, please, please,” Tommy begged, doubled over, drool falling from his mouth onto the dirty floor below him. Adam lifted him back up and punched him again, mercilessly, Tommy sobbed out and clutched his stomach.

 

“Tell me something, Tommy, something about the buyer or the hit. You know something.”

 

“They hired a pro, that’s it. I don’t know. The Stealers sent us guys home, said we were worthless trash and they had a pro and they didn’t want us messing with their shit no more. That’s all I got, Adam. I swear it.” He sounded so desperate and sad, lonely and terrified. He was so pitiful in his disgusting home in his terrible neighborhood. He had no one to look after him, no one to help him. Adam reared his hand back and Dakota couldn’t help herself.

 

“No,” she said sternly from behind him. Adam turned, one hand still in a fist in front of Tommy, the other secure around Tommy’s throat. He looked at her, his eyes fierce and dark, his face twisted into a dangerous scowl. Dakota wanted to take a step back away from Adam. He looked dangerous, like the gang member he was. He was so strong and fit next to the weak Tommy that it seemed ridiculous that the two of them were the same species. For the first time, Dakota was scared, but not scared of the situation, but of Adam, of the darkness and fury she saw in his eyes.

 

Adam looked at Dakota, the animal snarl still on his face. Dakota wanted to look away, to run away, but she ordered herself to stay where she was. Through the holes in her mask she looked at him, silently she begged him for restraint and mercy. Slowly his eyes softened, he let his hand drop, and he released Tommy who fell to the floor in a sniveling pile of tears.

 

“I’m sorry, Adam,” he said, openly weeping. “I shouldn’t have done that to that girl. The drugs man, they get me so bad I can’t help myself.”

 

“Get out of town. I want you far, far away. Other side of the country far.” From his pocket he pulled out a roll of bills and threw them down at Tommy. He then grabbed Tommy by his hair and tilted his head up so they were looking at each other. “This money’s a gift Tommy. You tell no one I was here. You take this money, you buy a bus ticket, and you go. If I find out you’re still in this city, it’s gonna be bad, Tommy. You understand?”

 

“I’ll leave, Adam. I swear I will. You’ll never see me again.” His hands had eagerly grabbed the money and he was holding it tightly to his chest. “I’ll leave tonight. I’ll go straight, never come back,” he kept repeating himself as Adam backed away.

 

He took Dakota by the elbow and led her to the door, keeping his body between her and Tommy who was still weeping on his knees on the floor, holding the money.

 

They hurried down the street and got into her car, peeling out of the neighborhood quickly as Dakota took the mask off her face. They drove in silence. Adam kept a stern look on his face and his eyes on the road. Dakota looked at him, but he didn’t look at her. His entire body seemed tense and strained, like an animal about to pounce. Carefully Dakota reached out with her hand and touched his, folding her small hand around his large one. At the first touch Adam flinched, but Dakota kept going, feeling his firm hand beneath her own.

 

In many ways, this was her fault. She was the one who needed protection; she was the one who had pushed Adam to investigate. She didn’t want him to feel like what he had done was wrong. In a perfect world, there would have been no need for violence, but this wasn’t a perfect world; it was a dangerous one. Finally Adam let his gaze leave the road for a second, his dark eyes looking for hers. He glanced at her, his eyes a mixture of sadness and worry that broke her heart. She wanted to rescue him. She could; she knew that. She could put the both of them on a private plane and fly to a place where no one would ever find them. They could spend their lives sipping cool drinks on a private beach somewhere. But it was only a fantasy. Dakota could never leave her family, or her work, and neither could Adam. They were people with connections, they cared for others, and they could never abandon the ones they loved.

 

As their eyes met, Dakota smiled at him. Wrapped up in that smile was forgiveness and understanding. She wasn’t afraid of him. She didn’t think he was a monster. She thought he was her savior, someone she could always depend on. Finally, Adam looked back at the road, but allowed himself to relax into his seat as they continued to drive.

 

She had seen him. She had seen him hit that excuse for a man. She had seen him do it and still she took his hand. She didn’t shy away from him. She didn’t look at him with fear. Adam didn’t know how far he would have gone if Dakota hadn’t stopped him. Tommy Riser had been putty in his hands. Adam could have obliterated him, but Dakota had made the right call. Tommy didn’t know anything. No one, not even the Soul Stealers, would have trusted that guy with any real information.

 

What would happen when she discovered what else he had done? What his past was? There was so much he hadn’t told her, so much he never wanted her to know. She looked at him like he was her savior, but she didn’t understand that he was no savior; he was a muscle for hire and sometimes he worked for bad people. Adam could never deny his past. It was what had brought him to her. It had built up Scarred Angels and created a legitimate business. His history had propelled him to Dakota Kane; it had made him who he was, a person she liked, and a person she trusted.

 

A professional hit man was dangerous business. If one man got it in his head to kill another no amount of security would save the hit. There would always be a weak point, a high vantage place a sniper could take advantage of, peer through his scope and end another man’s life from a hundred feet away. Adam didn’t know how to save John Kane, but he needed to find out. If John died, Dakota would be next, and Adam couldn’t live if anything happened to her. He needed to cut the snake off at its head. He needed to find out who was ordering the hit. But the men in police custody weren’t talking and the Soul Stealers were at least smart enough to avoid saying their backer’s name.

 

The sun was rising over the river, reds and oranges bleeding out into the darkness, the light coloring everything it touched. It had been a long night, a very long night and what did they have to show for it? The same story told from multiple vantage points. The Soul Stealers had been hired to off the Kanes, they had failed, and now a professional hit man had entered the game. But no one knew who had hired the hit man or when he would attack.

 

“When he’s discharged,” Dakota said.

 

Adam heard her, her voice drifting through his tired mind. “What?” He asked, looking over at her.

 

She was still wearing the dirty clothes he had given her, her hair was still a mess, and she still wore no makeup. But she still looked so lovely in the morning light that Adam was taken aback. The light played on her skin and against the dark hairs on her to create a halo from the morning’s light. He still didn’t understand who could want to kill this woman. Not only was she beautiful, but she was kind, as well. She had devoted her life to charity, to giving back; she was truly selfless and some monster wanted her dead because her father had a lot of money.

 

“They’re going to attack when he’s discharged. It makes the most sense. In the hospital and at home he’ll be under tight security. But in the car ride from the hospital to the home, he’s vulnerable.”

 

“When is he being discharged?” Adam asked. He knew she was right; now he needed to figure out what to do.

 

“Today, at nine,” Dakota said. Her face looked grim.

 

He knew she would have to be with her father when he left the hospital. Adam knew, that no matter how dangerous it was, Dakota would never leave someone she loved to face danger alone. He would never be able to convince her otherwise. It was part of her nature.She had a core that was kindness and love and there was an excellent chance it would get her killed. But it was who she was. She could never stop caring for the people she loved, just like Adam. I could just lock her up somewhere, he thought idly, but he knew it wouldn’t be that easy. Dakota was tougher than he ever would have thought. He knew there was no room that could hold her.

 

“Call Joey for me,” Adam said as they continued down the road. An idea was forming in his head. It made sense; he always had his best ideas when driving.

 

People would always have something to say about Scarred Angels, about biker clubs, in general. They would say they were dangerous and out of control, and that the world would be better off without them. But they couldn’t see into the inside of it. They would never understand how they functioned.

 

The members were brothers. When one called for help the rest arrived. No matter where they were or what they were doing, when one of them was in trouble and needed help, the rest came. That’s all it really was: having someone to depend on. Knowing you are never alone, no matter what happens to you or when you go, if you remain loyal to the club, the club will always be loyal to you.

 

Pennsylvania Hospital had never seen anything like it before – thirty men on their motorcycles waiting outside of the hospital. They were polite, they parked in the appropriate places, and they kept their engines low to not wake the resting patients. They watched everything and everyone. And people passing them on the street pointed and stared and whispered, wondering questions about what was happening. Every person who walked past them was marked and remembered, everyone and no one was an enemy. They were like an honor guard. They would escort John Kane from the hospital to his home, and anyone who wanted to attack Kane would have to get through thirty men first. It was the day of John Kane’s release, and if you hired Scarred Angels to protect you, they were damn well going to do it.

 

“Car’s clean, and I got Bill and Wade watching it. Mike, Joe, and Robbie at the entrance to the garage. No one is going to mess with that car.” John Kane would be transported in what looked like a simple black car. It wasn’t simple, of course; the body was reinforced, the windows were tinted and bulletproof, the tires bulletproof, as well. This was how the president moved from place to place and if it were safe enough for the leader of the free world, then it would do what they needed it to do. There were always eyes on the cars and the only people in them would be members of Scarred Angels.

 

Adam surveyed them from a window in John’s suite. His arms crossed, he stared down at his brothers. They had all worked late last night, but here they were, following orders and ready to put their own lives on the line. What would happen if one of them got hurt, if one of them took the hit for John? Just because they couldn’t afford a bodyguard didn’t mean their lives were worth less – just the opposite according to Adam. They were hard workers. Most had come from tough homes and raised themselves. But he knew that if one of them fell, it wouldn’t be in vain. If a member of Scarred Angels didn’t come back from this, the Soul Stealers would be wiped off the map. They would be hunted down man by man until their name was a warning to anyone else would dare to attack Scarred Angels.

 

“Hi, Daddy,” Dakota said as she walked into her father’s room.

 

He was dressed in a simple pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, but he looked better than he had in weeks. His skin had regained its color, his breathing was normal, and there were no more tubes or wires sticking out of him. He was standing on his own and smiling at her. He still wasn’t quite one hundred percent; he couldn’t walk very far and needed to rest most of the day. But he was alive. He was awake and smiling at her. All they had to do was get through the ride home.

 

Dakota had gone back to Adam’s to change into her own clothes, but there had been no time for a shower and her hair still smelled of cigarette smoke from the Black Mark. She should have felt exhausted. She had been up all night running around the city. But she felt just the opposite. She was keyed up, her nerves jangling, her eyes wide open, her adrenaline pumping and she felt acutely aware of everything and everyone around her.

 

“Pumpkin, are you all right? I don’t mean to insult you, but you look rather tired,” her father said.

 

“It was a long night, but I’m okay,” Dakota said. “Adam took care of me.”

 

“Hmm, yes. Mr. Mendel, it seems he was a good hire. We’ll have to thank James for introducing us to him. Where is James, by the way? I can’t believe he would miss my great debut back into the world.”

 

“Don’t take it personally, but he doesn’t know. The person who attacked you is still out there and we need to be careful. Anyone who doesn’t need to know, doesn’t know.”

 

“Dakota, are you sure? The police and James are both confident they have our attacker in custody.”

 

“Dad, I’m sure. Something else in going on and you need to trust me on this.” Dakota said. She still didn’t want to tell him what happened in the parking garage. If her father knew, he would never let her out of his sight. She’d be trapped at the Kane mansion while others did the dangerous work. She couldn’t allow that. She couldn’t allow anyone to get hurt for her.

 

“And do all of those bikers down there need to know?” he asked.

 

“We can trust them. Each and everyone one,” Dakota answered.

 

“Time to go,” Adam said, entering the room. “The car’s all ready.”

 

“Daddy, I don’t think you’ve officially met,” she said, ushering Adam into the room. “This is Adam Mendel, the man who saved my life.”

 

“It is truly an honor, Mr. Mendel,” John said, shaking Adam’s hand. “I don’t know what my family would have done without you. We would have been lost. There are not enough thanks in the world to show you how grateful I am. I can only hope that an opportunity presents itself for me to show you my gratitude.”

 

“Thanks,” Adam said.

 

Dakota could see how uncomfortable he was with praise, how unused to it he was. She would have to remember to thank him more in the future.

 

“I’ve got you, Dad,” Dakota said as she began to push his wheelchair through the door. They walked down the hallway and entered the elevator, taking it straight down to the garage. Joey and Mike were there and they smiled as Dakota pushed her father out of the elevator.

 

“Dad, this is Joey and Mike. They work for Adam,” Dakota said.

 

“A pleasure,” John said taking his time to shake both their hands and look them in the eye. “You gentleman have done me a great service and I am beyond grateful.”

 

At the black car, Adam lent his arm to John, helping him get into the car, and closing the door once he was inside.

 

“You’ll be very careful when you’re driving, right?” Dakota asked.

 

“I’ll be the most careful person that has ever existed,” Adam said, leaning down to touch his forehead to hers. “Promise me you won’t worry.”

 

“No,” she said quietly and she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him deeply. Relishing in his scent and his touch, understanding that this could be the last time she ever saw him, this could be the last moment that either of them ever had together. But no moment can last forever, and slowly Dakota pulled herself away from Adam. He held open the door and watched as she sat next to her father and buckled her seatbelt.

 

“I’ll see you in a little while,” he said and gently closed the door. Walking up to the driver side, Adam looked at his Uncle Bill who was checking his mirrors.

 

“I know, I know,” Bill said, looking at Adam. “Precious cargo in the back. I’ll be safe as safe can be. I’ll get her home in one piece. I promise.”

 

Adam nodded, a sudden lump in his throat making it impossible for him to speak. There was no one in the world he trusted more than his Uncle Bill. He would get Dakota home safe and Adam would get the bad guy.

 

The car slowly pulled out of the garage and Adam, Joey, and Mike watched it edge out into traffic and disappear down the street. Anonymity would get them home.

 

“Let’s roll,” Adam said as he climbed into the driver’s seat of an identical black car and Robbie and Mike got in the back with Joey in the passenger seats. Their shotguns were loaded and they all wore bulletproof vests. Come what may, they were as ready as they could be.

 

Adam started the car and pulled out, going the opposite direction from where Dakota and John had driven. From behind him he heard the roar of bikes as his brothers mounted and got ready to ride, some idling behind him while others moved to the front. It was a coordinated movement, one they had done many times before. Adam drove slowly through the city streets, his eyes and ears open, looking for anything that seemed odd or suspicious, other than the biker gang driving through town.

 

As a large group, they made their way to the highway, the bikers pushing everyone on the road out of their way. They drove smoothly in silence, watching and waiting for an attack that might never happen. They might give up, Adam thought to himself, they might see the muscle and think now’s a bad time. That was his hope anyway. He put himself in the mind of the contract killer and debated which would be better: attacking Kane on the road surrounded by thirty bikers, or trying to get to him in his home where he would be surrounded by bikers and an impressive security sensor. Both options looked bad, so at least Adam knew he was doing his job well.

 

From the highway, they moved on the residential streets of the Kanes’ suburb. Next to him he heard Joey sigh as he looked out the window. Being on alert for so long was draining. Sometimes it got to the point where you wanted something to happen if only to end the interminable waiting.

 

“Gun!” he heard the call come through his walkie. “Green Ford, travelling in opposite direction. It just passed me and I saw the guy pull out a gun.” It was Tim, the lead of the gang, the man who led the charge. “Driver’s side, rear seat.”

 

“Stop that car!” Joey yelled into the walkie

 

All around him Adam heard the clicking of safeties being turned off and guns being cocked as they got ready. Adam was driving. He only had his pistol in its holster, and it would be useless in this kind of fight. His job was to drive, to keep the car steady and give others the opening to shoot.

 

BOOM, the sound of a single gunshot and then the screech of a bike’s tires.

 

“Took a shot at me, but I’m okay. I wrecked on the side,” he heard another voice call in.

 

“Tighten up,” Joey ordered through the walkie as Adam saw the green van approaching.

 

A man was leaning out of the sunroof, a gun pointed at Adam’s car. He fired once and Adam instincts drove him to duck, but the windshield was strong, and held against the bullet as he turned the heavy car towards the attackers. More bullets hit the car, each one bringing with it a seismic boom as Adam checked his seatbelt and picked up speed. He could see the attacker, see his weathered face and blond hair. He could see the moment when the hit man understood what was happening, when he understood that this tank of a car was not trying to get past him, but was, in fact, headed straight for him.

 

“Ready.” Robbie said

 

“Ready,” Mike said.

 

“Ready,” Joey said next to him.

 

“Ready,” Adam said and he slammed on the gas, heading straight for the Ford. He watched as his brothers peeled back and away from the oncoming disaster.

 

Adam could see the whites of the eyes of the attacker when their cars collided. The man’s eyes were wide, and he was yelling something. He looked right at Adam as they crashed. With a sickening crunch, the black car crashed into the green Ford and the other car crumpled beneath the weight of the reinforced monster it had just met. Adam slammed against his seatbelt, as did the other members of Scarred Angels in the car. He was slammed forward and then physics slammed his back into his seat as he coughed and gasped for breath.

 

“Alive, unharmed,” Robbie started, and Mike and Joey repeated it, as did Adam as he looked over at the unconscious driver across the hood of his car.

 

“Get out of the car!”

 

“Weapons down, hands up!”

 

Half of the men got off their bikes and circled the car, the rest stayed, engines running in case anyone tried to make a break for it. Adam watched, but didn’t move. Every breath he took was a painful stab and he was sure he had re-broken at least one rib. But he was alive and conscious and he watched as a member of Scarred Angels checked the driver’s pulse. He nodded at Adam, letting him know the man was alive.

 

“Get out of the car!” they shouted at the shooter who had still not emerged. Taking a deep breath, Adam undid his seatbelt and staggered out of the car.

 

“You should go rest,” he heard someone say.

 

“No,” Adam said, his voice hoarse. “We need him alive.”

 

“We know, Boss, and it ain’t a problem.”

 

A large crowbar was removed from the back of the car as police sirens came towards them. He watched as four men pried open the crumpled door and reached inside, pulling out the shooter, who was barely conscious, a cut on his forehead pumping out blood.

 

“He’s alive. We got him,” someone yelled as the men let out a cheer and an exhausted Adam fell back against the car, staring up into the sky, wondering if it was finally all over, praying to God that Dakota was finally safe.

 

Dakota paced up and down the hallway of the Kane mansion. She hadn’t heard anything from Adam yet and the waiting was driving her mad. She and her father had managed to drive home without any issues. Adam’s Uncle Bill drove them home quickly and a nurse was waiting to bring her father back to the house. It had been a shock for John Kane to see several bearded bikers roaming around his house, but Dakota assured him they could be trusted. The house was on full lockdown, all doors and windows shut and locked, the security system turned on. But nothing had happened. They had arrived home and John had been put in his bedroom and now Dakota was stuck waiting.

 

Adam’s Uncle Bill was definitely the strong and silent type. He was older, with a lined face, arms covered in tattoos and neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard. He was walking the hallways of the house, keeping his head up and taking everything in. He was a confident man, smooth and never bumping into anything or tripping over the rugs. Dakota wanted to ask him a million questions. Who were Adam’s parents? What had Adam been like as a boy? But there was something in Bill’s manner that discouraged questions. He seemed always stern and in deep thought. Every time Dakota went to talk to him, she got the feeling she was disturbing him.

 

“When will we hear something?” Dakota asked Bill who had moved a curtain aside to look out the window.

 

“We’ll know soon. Hospital’s not more than thirty out,” Bill said, ending the conversation.

 

A phone buzzed and Dakota jumped, stopping in her tracks. She watched as Bill looked at his ringing phone. He gave her a quick glance and then answered. What if the worst had happened? Dakota thought. What if Adam or Joey or someone else had died or been hurt protecting someone who was miles away. They would have died for nothing. Dakota bit on her lower lip and watched as Bill took the call, but he remained as unreadable as ever. He just kept repeating the words yes and okay. It took all of Dakota’s inner strength to not rip the phone right out of his hand and demand answers in full sentences.

 

Bill hung up the phone and cleared his throat and Dakota wanted to scream. “They got the hit man. No one on our team was hurt. Other side has some injuries. The police have him. Adam should be here in twenty.”

 

Dakota let out a sob she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She doubled over for a second before standing straight up and walking over to Bill and hugging him fiercely. The man was uncomfortable with the intimacy and he stammered for a moment before awkwardly patting Dakota on her shoulder. She released him and felt a tear slip down her cheek. But unlike so many of her recent tears, this one was born from happiness. They had stopped it they had actually done it. They had taken Andre’s advice and followed it to Lance Declor and from Lance to the pitiful Tommy. It had been a hunch--nothing more--that had led Dakota to assuming the day of her father’s release would be the attack date, but she had been right.

 

I could be a police detective, she thought as she raced down the hall to her father’s room, just like she had when she was a child. She stopped at the door and knocked gently.

 

“Come in,” she heard her father call. The contractors had done their job well. The room looked almost back to normal. It was only because Dakota had been raised in this house that she recognized the places where the wall had been repaired, where the wood was shinier and newer. But it was good to see the room looking normal again. The last time Dakota had been in here had been the night of the attack when she had held her father’s weak frame in her hands.

 

Now John Kane was sitting up in bed with the paper on his lap, smiling at his daughter. Minus the nurse and the bikers downstairs, this could have been any average day.

 

“Everything all right, Dakota?” He asked.

 

“Everything is perfect, Dad. They caught the guy, the assassin. Scarred Angels got him and handed him over the cops and nobody on our side was hurt.”

 

“And on their side?” John Kane asked.

 

“A few injuries, but nothing too serious.” She shook her head at her father who was worried about the health and safety of the men who had been sent to kill him.

 

“Good, good,” her father said with a sigh before continuing. “Dakota this is all so strange. I would never have thought that anyone would want to harm our family. Your mother and I, we always tried to live our lives in concert with God. We tried to live by the golden rule: to treat others as we wish to be treated. I guess we were hoping we could protect you, or at least not create any enemies for you. Yet here we are. Surrounded by bodyguards, imprisoned in our own home, having to use decoy vehicles. I’ll be honest with you; part of me feels like I’ve failed you.”

 

“Daddy, you didn’t-”

 

But John cut Dakota off and continued. “I’ve been thinking and thinking who it could be that I’ve angered to such a degree. Michael Martin in particular, I thought we ended on good terms. James and I have been debating this for weeks now, trying to figure out who it could be. But the world is such a large place; it could be someone we’ve never even met. I promised your mother I would protect you...”

 

“I am protected, Daddy. Nothing has happened to me.”

 

“You were attacked in this home.”

 

“Yes, but I’m fine now. You don’t have to worry; none of this is your fault. None of it at all. We’re going to find out who is doing this to us and we’re going to stop them.”

 

“I would rather you left.”

 

“What?” Dakota said; her heart had stopped. Was her father really sending her away?

 

“Paris, London, Dubai, the islands, Dakota these would all be safe places for you. We wouldn’t tell anyone where you were going. You would leave in the night and be free from all this trouble. And I would know that you were safe. I could finally stop worrying about you.”

 

“You want to send me away?” Dakota asked.

 

“I want you to be safe.”

 

“What about you?”

 

“I can’t leave, Dakota. I have far too much on my plate to walk away from it.”

 

“And I don’t?” Dakota asked. “Nothing that I do matters at all?”

 

“Of course not, but your life matters more than the things you do, Dakota.”

 

“So does yours and if you’re still in this city, so am I.”

 

“You remind me so much of your mother, do you know that? I can remember once your grandmother came over and she heard that Jasmine had spent the day in a halfway house in a terrible part of the city. My mother was furious. She said it diluted the family name to see us in such places, that it was too dangerous and not worth Jasmine’s time.”

 

“What did Mom say?” Dakota asked.

 

“She smiled and nodded and went right back there the next day.” John said smiling at his daughter. “I was always so proud of her, and I’m even more proud of you because I helped make you.”

 

“I won’t leave, Dad. And you don’t need to worry or feel guilty. I’m an adult. I can make my own decisions and look after myself. I need you to trust me.”

 

“I do, my dear. It’s the rest of the world I have come to distrust.”

 

Adam took a deep breath before stepping out of his car. The Kane mansion had turned into a biker rally as the members of Scarred Angels cheered their success. Adam knew he needed to talk to them, needed to tell them good job, but his ribs were screaming. The accident had slammed him against his seatbelt and he was sure he had re-broken a rib. It hurt to move, but not enough that Adam was going to miss this to go to the hospital.

 

“You all right, boss?” Joey asked, leaning into the driver’s side window.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Adam said wincing as he stepped out of the car and stood up. “Gentleman!” he cried to the assembled crowd. “Today was a good day. We did well and did what we were hired to do. Now everyone will know, when you hire Scarred Angels you get the best!” a cheer went out around the assembled men. “Now get out of here before we ruin this neighborhood.”

 

The men laughed as bikes roared around him and one by one the men not assigned headed back to the city.

 

Adam sighed as he turned to the Kane mansion. It felt so different from the first time he had spied it from his motorcycle. Back then, the mansion had seemed like a ludicrous display of wealth. It still was that, of course, but it was so much more now. It was where he had first met Dakota, first been with her. It wasn’t so imposing anymore, he knew his way around the mansion itself and the grounds, and it felt familiar to him, no longer so intimidating. He passed his Uncle Bill as he walked out of the mansion and towards his bike.

 

“How you feeling?” Bill asked him.

 

“A little sore, but I’ll survive.”

 

“Everything’s set up in there, guys on detail. You don’t need to stay; you should go home and rest.”

 

“I will,” Adam said. He felt his uncle’s heavy hand come to rest on his shoulder. It was a comforting gesture and Adam was grateful for it. Inside the house quiet fell as the members of Scarred Angels not assigned to duty all went home. The quiet felt strange after what had just happened, but it calmed Adam, made him tired. It had been a long twenty-four hours, but he couldn’t do anything until he saw Dakota.

 

He made his way towards John’s room, passing the nurse and the new live-in housekeeper and finally Dakota herself who closed the door to her father’s room quietly.

 

“Hi,” she said, smiling at him. “How are you? I heard there was an accident.”

 

“There was, but I had my seatbelt on, so I’m okay,” Adam said.

 

Dakota walked towards him, a worried look on her face. She pressed her palm lightly to his chest and looked up into his eyes. “Your ribs were already broken from the fight. Are they worse now? Should you go to the hospital?”

 

“I’m fine,” Adam said, taking her hand in his, relishing in the warmth of her.

 

“I think I should probably stay here tonight,” she said. “I don’t want my dad to feel alone.”

 

“I understand,” Adam said. “You need your rest, too. We were out all night.”

 

Dakota stood on her tiptoes and kissed Adam gently, her hands by her side, avoiding the sore places that stretched across his chest. Her hand lingered in his, as they walked to the front entrance. Dakota kissed him one last time before he opened the door into the bright sunshine of the afternoon.

 

He left her in her mansion, assured that she would be kept safe. Joey and Bill were waiting in the car for Adam who gingerly got into the backseat. They traveled down the lane away from Kane mansion and back towards the city. As they drove, Adam thought about the man they had captured. An ambulance had taken the attacker to the hospital in handcuffs. He regretted that he hadn’t been able to interrogate the assassin himself. He could have gotten him to talk, made the man spill all of his secrets. But that was the darker part of him, the part of him that worked for mob bosses and drug dealers. Adam had put that side of him away a long time ago. It was better the attacker was in police custody, and he might still talk. The DA might offer a deal, anything could happen; now all Adam could do was wait and hope the assassin named his employer.

 

But it wasn’t easy for a man like Adam Mendel to wait and hope. He was a man who went after what he wanted. He had taken Scarred Angels from an underground illegal organization to a legit operation that protected billionaire heiresses and did it successfully and none of that had been accomplished by waiting. They had stopped the attacks, but more would come unless they found out who was paying for them. It was like playing Whack-a-Mole; assassins and attackers would keep popping up until they found out who was offering the money.

 

As he drifted off to sleep in the back seat, Adam had to admit that the best thing that could happen to the Kanes would be for them to leave. They needed to run and hide, to find a safe place where they couldn’t be found. But then I would never see Dakota again, Adam thought to himself. In order to keep her safe, he would have to send her away. Adam Mendel was strong, everyone said so, but he didn’t think he would be strong enough to do that.

 

Dakota Kane slept for fourteen hours and when she awoke she felt wonderfully rested. She felt strange when she first awoke in her childhood bedroom. For just a moment she wasn’t sure how old she was, she felt, for just a second that she was a child again, getting up for school. But she was no longer a child. She was a grown woman with responsibilities, and so she forced herself out of bed and into the shower.

 

It’s nice having a housekeeper again, Dakota thought as she walked back downstairs. There were fresh flowers throughout the house and it had been dusted and cleaned. It felt open and awake. For so long after her father’s attack the house had been cold, dark, and empty, but not any longer. In the kitchen, bagels and eggs had been set out and fresh coffee was brewing. She could hear two members of Scarred Angels eating in the security room and she smiled listening to them. It felt good to have voices in the house again; it made the mansion feel alive.

 

Coffee in hand Dakota walked to her father’s room and entered just as the nurse was leaving. “How is he?” she asked.

 

“Very good, Ms. Kane. His blood pressure and heart rate are both where we want them. I think we can begin physical therapy tomorrow,” the chipper nurse said taking a handful of linens with her has she left.

 

“Dakota, just who I wanted to talk to,” John said as Dakota entered. He looked good, really good; his eyes were bright, his face had color, he looked strong, and for a moment Dakota could pretend nothing bad had ever happened to him. “Come and sit with your father,” he said, patting the bed.

 

Dakota smiled at sat down next to him, “How are you feeling?” she asked.

 

“Fine, fine,” he said with an impatient wave of his hand. “But I don’t want to talk about me. I want to talk about you. Specifically you and this Adam Mendel fellow.”

 

Dakota sighed and looked out the window. “Don’t you think I’m a little old for the boyfriend conversation with my dad?”

 

“You’re never too old. No matter how old you get, I will always be your father. I will always look out for you,” John said. There was a pleading look in his eye that made Dakota nervous. Her father would only have this conversation with her if he didn’t approve of Adam.

 

“He’s nice, Daddy.” Dakota pleaded. She needed to make him understand that Adam was more than the biker he had met. “He works really hard, he owns a nightclub, and started a security business, all of which he started from nothing. I think you would like him if you got to know him.”

 

“I never said I didn’t like him. He saved your life and for that he will always find himself in my favor. But, Dakota, you need to realize that his club and his security company both started as a biker gang. That’s a dangerous element, Dakota. A very dangerous one. James and I have spoken about him and I just want to be sure that you have all the information,” John said.

 

“What information?” Dakota asked.

 

“Scarred Angels has been involved in some illegal activities. Several members of their gang are in jail for drug possession with intent to sell, and four are serving life sentences for murder.”

 

“But not Adam,” Dakota said.

 

“No, not Adam. But he is in charge of the gang. He’s their leader, Dakota. They only would have done what Adam said. Scarred Angels was responsible for helping to transport thousands of dollars’ worth of cocaine into the city. Plus other things: intimidation, kidnapping, prostitution, the list goes on.”

 

“You hired them, not me,” Dakota said. She didn’t know what else to say. She had always known Scarred Angels was a biker gang at its core. But there was no desire to learn the details of it. She hadn’t wanted to know; she still didn’t want to know. But she had seen something the night Adam had questioned Tommy. There was something savage in his motions, something unbridled and dangerous. Dakota had stopped him before he had caused any real harm, but what if she hadn’t been there to stop him? How far would he have gone? “They aren’t like that anymore. Adam demands everything be legal and above board,” she argued. “Besides, you and I both know how hard it is out there for people who aren’t us. People can work hard, get up every day to earn an honest living and still not have enough to get by. They may not have always been perfect, but they’re trying now. Doesn’t that count for something?”

 

“It counts for everything,” John answered. “It’s why James hired them in the first place. He liked their entrepreneurial ways and the fact that they were not the typical bodyguards you see every day and there is no denying they’ve been effective. But hiring an employee is one thing; entering into a relationship with someone you barely know is quite another.”

 

Dakota wanted to cry. She couldn’t look at her father; she didn’t know what to do with this information. It shouldn’t matter that Adam had once been involved with criminals. The past was in the past and she wanted to leave it there. She wanted to move forward with a blank slate with Adam. She liked him for who he was now, not who he might have been in the past. But Dakota knew life could never be that simple. And she couldn’t just overlook the things he’d done.

 

Dakota spent her time working with the poor and disenfranchised. Single mothers, orphans, the homeless, she knew better than anyone how the drug trade tied into and around all of that. It hurt so many people. Not only the addicts it created, but also the violence those addicts would perpetrate to get what they needed. Even worse was the violence those who sold the drugs created. They had power and needed to keep it, needed to consolidate it. Had Adam helped them? Had he created the people that Dakota worked so hard to save?

 

“In most ways our lives are easier, Dakota. You will never have to work a job you hate or live in a dangerous neighborhood. You will never want for food or entertainment or any material goods. But we pay a price for all of that. We must be so careful with whom we allow into our inner circle. Adam comes from a poor family and you have a lot of money, Dakota. When you look at your life with Adam, what does it look like? You two are so different. You have different histories, different frames of reference.”

 

“I don’t know...” Dakota said. But that wasn’t true. She had imagined a life with Adam, a life in his row house in Philly, a life where she got up and went to work every day and they were just a normal couple. But that had just been a fantasy. Dakota didn’t live in a small row house; she lived in a mansion and an apartment in the best part of the city. She didn’t get up and go to a job in the morning and neither did Adam. They weren’t normal, no matter how much she pretended they could be.

 

“I’m just asking you to be thoughtful, Dakota. These last few weeks have been beyond difficult. They’ve been terrifying. You’ve watched your father almost die; you were attacked in your own home. Everything changed very quickly and I worry that your relationship with Adam might be you looking for something solid to hold on to. It’s a normal reaction, Dakota. I just don’t want you making any life-changing decisions while all of this is going on. Take things slow with Adam. Make sure you know his history before you get further involved; will you do that for me?”

 

Dakota nodded silently. But she didn’t agree. She knew her father was right. She hadn’t known Adam very long, but their connection was so strong. Could it all have just been fear and adrenaline that pushed them together? Was she clinging to Adam the way a drowning man would cling to a life vest? How was she to know what the right thing to do was? She had never faced anything like this before. Her life had never been like this before; maybe her father was right and she should wait until life settled back down, not that it showed any signs of doing so.

 

“Mr. Mendel?” a stern voice demanded through the phone. Adam didn’t recall picking the phone up or answering it, yet here he was talking to someone. It was nine o’clock in the morning. The day before, Adam had captured an assassin and been in a car accident; the day before he was chasing leads around the city. Tired was an understatement. Adam had planned to take the day off, to sleep in and forget about Scarred Angels and the dangers faced by the Kanes. Last night Joey had reminded him that he wasn’t doing this alone, he had family behind him and Adam could trust Scarred Angels to protect Dakota for a day.

 

Adam checked his phone and found that his early call was from Detective Evans. He sat up and wiped the drool from his mouth, ordering his brain to wake up. “This is Adam Mendel,” he said into the phone, his sleepy voice still rough from the night before.

 

“Mr. Mendel, it’s Detective Evans. Do you have a moment to speak?”

 

“Yes, of course.”

 

“Are you still working the Kane contract?”

 

“Yes,” Adam answered warily. Detective Evans did not sound pleased or excited and Adam guessed this wasn’t a call to inform him that the perps had confessed and named the mysterious person who had hired them.

 

“Last night Michael Martin and the man you apprehended attempting to kill Kane, the man who fired the shots, they...well. I’m not sure how to say this. Mr. Mendel, I can trust you to be discrete? We haven't released this information to the press yet, but we feel that the Kanes, and their security should be aware.”

 

“I won’t tell anyone,” Adam said, fully awake now.

 

“Last night, those two prisoners committed suicide. They both hung themselves with their bed sheets in their cells.”

 

“Shit,” Adam whispered.

 

“Yes, I agree.”

 

“How did this happen?”

 

“We’re looking into it.”

 

“Did either of them tell you anything? Did they tell you who was paying them?”

 

“Unfortunately, no. They didn’t.”

 

Adam wanted to scream and curse and hit something. He wanted to go back in time and interview the assassin himself; Adam could have made him talk. But now they were stuck back where they were before with no idea who the attackers were working for, spending every moment holding their breath and waiting for something to happen.

 

“We have, of course, re-opened our investigation,” Detective Evans said with a sigh. “But at the moment, we’re trying to keep this as quiet as possible, but we felt the Kanes should know. I’ve given you the courtesy of the first call. My partner is calling John Kane right now.”

 

“Thank you, Detective. I’ll tell you if I discover anything new.”

 

“And I’ll do the same. Good luck, Adam. Stay safe.” The call ended and Adam flopped back down into his bed. Suicide, he thought, more likely murder, a cop on the inside. It was an impressive feat for the Soul Stealers, but not impossible, something Adam knew well enough.

 

Still lying on his back, Adam called his uncle.

 

“Yes,” Bill said, his standard phone greeting.

 

“The two attackers committed suicide,” Adam sighed.

 

“Last night?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“So the Stealers have someone inside?”

 

“Yup, and they aren’t done with the Kanes.”

 

“I’ll spread the word,” Bill said and ended the call. Brief as always.

 

Adam called Joey next, but the call went to voicemail and Adam left instructions for Joey to call him. He knew he needed more sleep, a lot more sleep. But he was awake and his mind was racing with a million unanswered questions. There was no way he was falling back asleep now, so he pulled himself out of bed and jumped into the shower, remembering the last time he had been in there with Dakota.

 

He missed her that night. He missed her warm presence next to him. He wished she were there, wished they were drinking coffee together out back, just talking and being with each other. He needed to call her; he needed to tell her not to worry.

 

“Hi,” Dakota answered. Her voice was sweet, but here could hear a hint of sadness and worry in her voice. By now the detectives had called her father and she knew.

 

“You heard?” Adam asked.

 

“Yeah, Dad just got off the phone. What are we going to do? Adam this has to end. We have to find out who’s paying the Stealers to kill my father. I can’t keep living like this, jumping at every sound, always looking for threats.”

 

“I know, I know.” Adam said. “We will find out who’s doing this. So today, just stay at home and do what the guys there tell you to do.”

 

“I’m tired of this, Adam.”