HANDS OFF MY WOMAN: Padre Knights MC by Claire St. Rose (86)

 

“I know.” It was all he could say. He couldn’t promise she would never be attacked again and he couldn’t promise that it was over. He could only remind her that she wasn’t alone, that he understood, that finding a solution to this was more important to him than anything else.

 

“Um...I have to go. I’ll talk to you later?” she said.

 

“Yeah,” Adam responded. He couldn’t tell if there was something different in her voice, coldness or confusion. Most likely she was just as tired as he was. This was supposed to be a day of celebration; they had caught the bad guys and saved the good guys. But the threats weren’t over yet. They still had a long way to go.

 

Downstairs Adam put on a fresh cup of coffee. His body felt strained and ragged, like a car running on fumes. His ribs ached and his brain felt encased in fog. He hated feeling this way, useless and weak. He needed to be strong, for Scarred Angels and Dakota. He was the thread that kept everything connected, the thread that held everyone up. But he felt so thin, stretched to capacity. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

 

While the coffee dripped down into the carafe, Adam walked over to his front door. He couldn’t remember the last time he had checked his mail. As he opened his bright red front door, he was surprised to see a letter stapled there. It was a simple white envelope with the word MENDEL written with a sharpie on the front. Adam stared at it for a moment, his brain on a five second delay. He couldn’t figure out what it was doing there, who had put it there.

 

He reached up and pulled the letter free from the staple that held it. There were two items in the envelope. The first was a picture and Adam felt bile rise in his throat when he saw it: a Polaroid, taken in a low yellow light. In the center of the frame was Joey, his face beaten and bruised, one eye swollen shut, holding yesterday’s paper in his hands and giving the camera a defiant look. Behind the picture was a simple piece of lined yellow notebook paper with these words written in large block letters: MENDEL. TAKE OUT THE KANES AND HE WILL BE RETURNED WITHOUT FURTHER HARM.

 

If Adam had anything in his stomach, he would have wretched it all over the street. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t swallow. He stared up and down the street, but no one was out. When had they put this on his door, had anyone seen? Where was Joey? There was no information, no address, just the order to kill the Kanes and the empty promise that Joey would be returned if he did.

 

Adam leaned heavily against his doorframe staring at the picture. They had done it, the one thing they never should have done. The Soul Stealers had failed to kill the Kanes over and over again, the first time due to their own incompetence, the other times because Scarred Angels had been there to stop them. The Stealers understood that Scarred Angels was the only thing in their way, so now they were attacking the club to get to the Kanes.

 

Attack my family, Adam thought to himself, crushing the letter in his fist. All his tiredness was gone, the fog in his brain cleared. The Soul Stealers were done. Scarred Angels would take all of them out, not matter what the cost. They would be a warning for anyone who ever thought to attack Adam or his brothers again. The memories of the Soul Stealers would be nothing more than a warning whispered to others who would dare to threaten Scarred Angels. Adam was going to find Joey and he was going to find out who had taken him. No cops, no laws, Adam was going to end this once and for all, no matter what the cost was.

 

Dakota felt silly driving in the back of the car, a member of Scarred Angels in the driver’s seat. It was everything Dakota had never wanted to be: a pampered princess who never lifted a finger. She had never wanted to be that dependent on others. She knew how to drive, how to work a budget, go grocery shopping, do her own laundry, cook, clean, and drive. She didn’t understand how people did this. She was nervous and antsy in the car, her leg jiggling in front of her and she kept lowering and raising her window.

 

She was going to talk to Adam. The gentle warnings of her father had pinged through her brain all day, echoing around her brain, making her question everything. But then she remembered she had done this already. She had already put herself through this once before, convincing herself that Adam had no real affection for her. She had been proven wrong then by talking to him. When she worried and overanalyzed, she was only guessing at what Adam could be thinking. It was better to just go and talk to him, sort this all out.

 

There was no reason they couldn’t be together. Yes, they were from different backgrounds. Yes, she had more money than him. Yes, he may have been involved in some illegal activities, but they could still make it work, couldn’t they? Could it be true that what they had was only created by the chaos they were embroiled in? Could that be all this was?

 

Stop it, Dakota. Don’t do this again. Go and talk to him, get real answers to your questions. That’s the only way to know for sure.

 

As they sped down Delaware Avenue, Dakota turned to the river and saw the boats gliding over choppy waters, transport ships bound for Europe and Asia. She lowered her window and breathed in the cool air that flowed over the water. She thought of Adam’s house that wasn’t too far from here. His clean and tidy little house. It wasn't the home of a dangerous criminal; it was the home of a man who had been alone for a long time, a man who had created his own life and worked to keep it going every moment of every day; he was a good man, Adam. A tough man, a hardworking man, she just needed her father to understand.

 

The parking lot for Scarred Angels was empty. It was one thirty in the afternoon, and the club wouldn’t open for several hours. It was strange to see it so quiet and calm. Normally, at night, there would have been cars, puking club kids, and couples making out in dark corners. But at this hour, there were just the bikes that belonged to the Scarred Angels members and seagulls circling the sky looking for anything to scavenge.

 

Dakota stepped out of the car and looked around. There were three members of the club sitting on a low concrete wall smoking cigarettes. She gave them a half-wave, but they only glared at her. Confused, she made her way to the entrance with Mark, her guard for the day, leading the way. As they walked past the smokers, Dakota could see them staring at her and shaking their heads. She wondered what was wrong and why they all looked so angry. Maybe something had happened yesterday when they had attacked the assassin, something Adam hadn’t told her.

 

Mark opened the door for her, and she only got two steps before a wall of Scarred Angels members greeted her. About ten men in leather jackets and stern expressions glared at her over crossed arms. It stopped Dakota in her tracks. She didn’t feel unsafe, but she knew there was something dangerous in the atmosphere, something that would soon fall on her head if she weren’t careful.

 

“What’re you all looking at her like that for?” Mark asked them.

 

But none of them spoke; instead they just stared at Dakota. She could hear one or two of them mumbling under their breath, but nothing was said.

 

“You need to leave, girl,” Dakota wasn’t sure who had said it, but she knew by their nods that the men in the line agreed with the speaker.

 

“Why? Is Adam here?” Dakota asked.

 

“Leave the country, go and don’t come back. You and your kind are nothing but trouble. You got all the money in the world, but you still need us to die so you can live,” a man spit.

 

“What?” Dakota stepped back as if she had been slapped. “I never asked anyone to die.”

 

“No, but a man’s gotta live. To live he’s gotta work, and it’s because of people like you that this is the only work we can get. Putting our lives on the line so you can sit pretty in your mansion.” It seemed to be a different man each time, like a many-headed beast. Each had a different voice, but they were all saying the same thing.

 

“It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven,” a voice said.

 

“You’re no better than us. You’re not worth more,” another chimed in.

 

“What the hell are y’all talking about!?” Mark demanded, just as confused as Dakota.

 

“Get her out of here, put her and her father on a plane. We don’t need their business anymore. It costs too much,” one of the voices said.

 

Dakota stared at the line of faces hurt and confused. Just yesterday that had, en masse, gone on a dangerous assignment to find her father’s killer and now they were standing around and telling her that she wasn’t wanted.

 

“What’s changed? What’s happened?” Dakota asked. Something had happened and no one had told her. What could it be? Was it the suicides of the assassins that had turned Scarred Angels against her?

 

“It’s family business. And you’re not family. You’re just another rich bitch we have to work for, so get in your daddy’s car and go!”

 

“Enough!” a strong voice said. It was Adam’s Uncle Bill. He was walking down a set of metal steps, but he was slow and even. He was in no rush. Like everything he did, his movements were dedicated. “Ain’t the girls fault. No point in blaming her.”

 

Dakota moved past the line of Biker’s who had stood down at Bill’s strong voice. She walked up the metal stairs, meeting Bill at the entrance to the office and following him inside.

 

“What’s happening?” she asked him quietly.

 

“Don’t concern you,” he said.

 

“Where’s Adam?” she asked.

 

“Busy next few days. Might be a good time to give him space.”

 

Dakota stared at the older man in confusion. It was infuriating that no one would tell her anything. Did they think her that incapable? Just the other night she had tricked a man out of information and tracked another to his disgusting home. If they could only see that Dakota wasn’t a spoiled princess, wasn’t a rich bitch, she could help – if they would just let her.

 

Bill’s phone rang, the noise making Dakota jump. He glanced at the phone and held up one finger to her, stepping out to take the call.

 

Alone in the club’s office Dakota looked around at the scattered papers that littered the desks. Security monitors flickered and there was the occasional noise from walkie-talkies sitting in their chargers. Dakota glanced at the door, but Bill was nowhere to be found. Quickly, she began to rifle through the pages on the desk, trying to find out what was going on. There were bank statements, permits, checks, and timesheets. And then she saw it, the edge of a photo sticking out from underneath a copy of last month’s Popular Mechanics.

 

Shaking, Dakota looked at the picture of a beaten and battered Joey with yesterday’s paper, Joey who had saved her that night in the parking garage, and who had chased after her attacker with no concern for his own safety, and the note, the Kanes for Joey. Dakota looked behind her nervously, thinking of the gang of bikers on the other side of the wall. They were family; they would protect each other before anything else. Dakota knew she was a job to them, nothing else, a rich bitch they wanted nothing to do with. She slipped the photo and note back under the magazine and swallowed as she realized the men hired to protect her might just kill her instead.

 

Adam didn’t have time for pleasantries. He didn’t have time to set up a meeting and pour a scotch; he didn’t have time to haggle or barter. The Soul Stealers had his best friend, his oldest friend; he didn’t have time for anything. Adam had met Joey on the basketball court of Neumann Goretti Junior High School. It had been Adam’s first day of junior high; he was a pimply, uncoordinated, tall mess. That summer he had grown a foot in two months and was never sure what to do with his new bulk. He had first seen Joey leaning against a chain link fence, standing on tiptoes and peering to the right. A confused Adam had walked over to him, wondering what the other boy was doing.

 

“Girls,” Joey had said, pointing through the fence at the all-girls school across the street. Joey had found the one place in the fence where they could see the other half of their species. It had only taken one word, but it had been enough to start a friendship that persisted some fifteen years later. Joey and Adam had gotten through high school together; Joey’s mom had helped Adam buy his first boutonniere for his first real date with a girl, a dance held in their school’s gym. They had been brothers before Scarred Angels and they would always be brothers.

 

Adam pounded loudly on the door to the warehouse. He knew this was stupid, very stupid. But he didn’t know what else to do, or where else to go. The warehouse was a large, nondescript brick building that sat right on the water. It was one of many buildings on this unimpressive stretch of road that all looked the same, but he knew this was where Andre worked. This was his headquarters. Adam had never come here before during the day like this. Before their days of going legit, Scarred Angels had done some work for Andre’s people, but not in a while. He had never come uninvited before.

 

They knew he was there. There were cameras everywhere. There was one pointed at his face right at that moment but still no one appeared Adam pounded on the door and stared into the camera.

 

“Let me in, Dre. It’s just me, no one else. I need to talk to you.”

 

Finally he heard the sound of a panel sliding as a partition was removed and a pair of dark eyes started at Adam from the other side of the door.

 

“I need to speak to Andre. It’s an emergency,” Adam said. The pair of eyes continued to stare, making no movement, barely even blinking. Adam stared straight back into those eyes, unwilling to leave. Finally the eyes looked away and Adam heard a series of locks click as the door swung silently open.

 

A man stared at Adam, looked him up and down. “Spread your legs, hands on the wall.”

 

Adam did as he was told and felt the man expertly frisk him. There were no guns or knives to be found; he had left them all in the car. Andre was smart and careful. He trained his people well, never cut corners; Adam knew this would happen. The man felt the lump in Adam’s breast pocket and pulled out the wad of cash Adam had brought with him. It was over five thousand dollars.

 

“That’s for your boss,” Adam said as the man flipped through bills and then handed them back, finally permitting him to enter the garage.

 

The first room was a literal waiting room. It was outdated-looking, with a crappy old TV playing the local news, folding chairs, and faded green carpet. A beautiful woman sat behind a desk with a computer, filing her nails and doing everything in her power to not look up. Andre’s company was listed as a delivery service, but what they delivered was a whole different matter.

 

From the main room, the nameless man led Adam back through an office, and then he keyed in a code and opened another door that opened to a seemingly endless flight of stairs that went down into darkness. Adam followed the man, tracking a twisting and turning path through endless hallways and endless locked doors until, finally, he found himself in front of a dark mahogany door.

 

The man knocked twice and then opened the door, shoving Adam inside. Where the office upstairs was outdated, the one below street level was beyond tricked out. There was plush carpet, leather chairs, multiple flat screen TVs, a pool table, and tanks filled with all sorts of fish and other reptiles. Andre sat alone on one of the couches, that day’s New York Times crossword puzzle half-finished in his hand.

 

“I’m sorry to come unannounced,” Adam said.

 

“What’s a four letter word for ‘reply’?” Andre asked, searching the ceiling for clues.

 

“I have no fucking idea. I hate puzzles.” Adam responded. “I need to know where the Soul Stealers work from. They took one of ours.”

 

“Begins with an e...” Andre mused.

 

“Five G's, Andre. I know you have no love for the Soul Stealers. I know they’re bad for your business. Help me out here. I can get rid of them for all of us,” Adam said, throwing his money down on the table.

 

“Thought you went straight?” Andre said.

 

“They took one of ours. No matter how straight you go, you can’t let that pass.”

 

“I can’t be getting involved in the actions of biker gangs. I ain’t putting myself in the middle of that fight. I like you Adam. But like ain’t enough to pick sides in a war. Now, back to the puzzle, four letter word for reply begins with an ‘e’.”

 

“For fuck’s sake, Andre. Are you playing literal games with me right now? People are going to die. You need to tell me what you know.”

 

“I don’t need to do anything. You’re on my turf, and you need to listen to what I am saying to you.”

 

“You’re not saying anything!”

 

“Four letters, starts with an ‘e,’ a reply,” Andre stared into Adam’s eyes and watched as it finally clicked.

 

“I hate puzzles,” Adam said, rubbing the back of his neck as he thought. A five letter word for reply, a five letter word that meant to reply... “Echo,” he said, looking at Andre.

 

“It fits,” Andre said.

 

“Echo Lane...” Adam said, looking at the other man.

 

Echo Lane was a small community down by airport, technically part of the city, but separated from the rest of it by the highways. You could get anything there: drugs, guns, women, men, anything. But the items for sale on Echo Lane were cheap and dirty. There was no order down there; shootings and stabbings were an everyday part of life. Neither the police nor the gangs had any real sway in Echo Lane; it was where the lowest of the low got their fix. Echo Lane was lawless chaos. It was where people went to die. It made perfect sense the Stealers had set up shop in Echo Lane.

 

Adam threw the wad of bills on the table and Andre took a moment too look above his newspaper at the money. “What’s that for? I didn’t tell you anything.”

 

“It’s for your continued support of Scarred Angels, Andre. We always enjoy seeing you there,” Adam responded as he turned and walked towards the door.

 

“Be careful, Mendel,” Andre said from behind him. “People go missing in Echo Lane every day. Don’t go alone and don’t bring that girl.”

 

“Never,” Adam said as he followed his escort back out. He doubted Dakota Kane had even heard of Echo Lane. There was no charity there, no soup kitchens. It was beyond saving, beyond redemption. The people there were dangerous and unpredictable, life had tossed them like garbage into Echo Lane and the people who lived there knew them once they found themselves there, they would never get out. And that was exactly where Adam needed to go.

 

No one stopped Dakota on her way out the building; they watched her with their eyes, following her progress through the empty club and out the front door. Mark, her escort, was gone and Dakota didn’t want to wait for him. She had the keys to her Prius on her keychain. Mark only had a copy. The parking lot was even more empty than usual, the bikers who had been smoking outside gone; only their bikes and stubbed out cigarettes proving they were even there.

 

Dakota quickly unlocked her car and took off down Delaware Avenue with no idea where she was going. Running away was pointless. Scarred Angels had access to everything. They could track the GPS in her car and her phone, and they had keys and access codes to her house and her apartment. There was nowhere she could be safe from them. She needed to end the contract, unless that would just make them angrier.

 

Joey, poor Joey. Scarred Angels was right. It wasn’t fair that Joey had been kidnapped and beaten up. It wasn’t fair at all, but Dakota hadn’t kidnapped him and she had no idea who had. The Soul Stealers, it must have been them. It was the Stealers who had been hired to kill Dakota and her father. It was the Soul Stealers who had made mistake after mistake and were now getting desperate.

 

Dakota was all alone. Her security team was the enemy now. The people she had hired to protect her, the people she had considered friends, were coming for her. Her father was still sick and weak, defenseless. He could be killed at any moment in a trade for Joey’s life. Dakota had trusted Adam and Scarred Angels with everything, with her life. But now what was she supposed to do when the people who were supposed to be protecting her started hunting her?

 

Would they really do it? John and Dakota Kane were innocent. They had never hurt anyone; they hadn’t started this war and they were stuck in the middle of it. But she knew that wasn’t how Scarred Angels would see it. They would see the mansion and the cars, the wealth and privilege; they would assume that John and Dakota were just a couple of lazy elites who didn’t care about anyone but themselves. The members of Scarred Angels were brothers; they would always put their brothers before their clients.

 

If only I could figure out who was paying them. Who is the backer, the guy with all the money? All this over money. Dakota had money; she had more money than ninety percent of the people in that city put together. Was all of this over money? She had always assumed that it was something else, something bigger, or at least something that meant more than money. Says the girl who has too much of it, she thought. Then she stopped in the middle of street, as a dawning realization came over her.

 

“I’m so stupid,” she said out loud to no one. It was obvious how this whole situation could be solved. Who had more money than the Kanes? Not many people, a few kings, a handful of hedge fund managers, and the founders of Facebook. Dakota had been doing this all wrong. She didn’t need to find out who was paying the Soul Stealers. She just needed to pay them more. But how? She heard a honk behind her and was reminded of the fact that she was stopped in the middle of the road. She put her foot on the gas and made her way back out to the suburbs.

 

***

 

Marley’s mother, Betty, was a strange bird. She was the epitome of old money. Her family regularly mentioned bloodlines and purity and bragged about their links to European royalty. Even though it was Dakota’s great grandfather who had made the Kane fortune, Betty still referred to the Kanes as “new money”. She was often giving Dakota unsolicited advice about the sort of people she should be associated with and how she could better spend her time.

 

Betty was also paranoid as hell. Every home and apartment her family owned had a panic room and she had demanded all of her children get their pilot's license and learn how to fly the family jet. According to Betty, the peasants could rise up at any moment and she wanted her children to know how to run when the time came.

 

The gate was always closed, but when Dakota gave her name and smiled into the camera, the gate swung open and she drove down the lane to Betty’s impressive home.

 

“OMG, Dakota! Did I know you were coming? Where’s your bodyguard?” Marley asked, meeting her on the front steps.

 

The mention of Adam was all it took. Dakota could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and she shook her head, both to the clear them away and to answer Marley.

 

“What happened? Did you break up again?” Marley asked, opening the door and helping Dakota out.

 

“I can’t get into it right now. Who does your family use for security?” Dakota asked, wiping away her tears and ordering herself to stop crying. There was no time for pity and sadness. The Soul Stealers had Joey; they could be doing anything to him. And then there was the matter of Dakota and her father, her father who was still, at that moment, being guarded by Scarred Angels. She needed to end this, now.

 

Ten minutes later Dakota was in the working kitchen of Marley’s mother’s house. A hot cup of coffee in front of her, the man across from her drank only water.

 

“This is what happens when you hire a biker gang for protection, Ms. Kane. They are a dangerous and unstable element. I could never figure out why your father hired them.” The man across from her was just as tall and well-built as Adam. He was African American and dressed in a suit with an earpiece, the image of professionalism. His name was Thomas Christophe. Never Tom, always Thomas.

 

“It came at the referral of a trusted friend, James Hastings. He’s known my father since college. He’s usually good at this sort of thing. They did a good job, but things have become complicated.”

 

“Complicated how?” Thomas asked.

 

“The thing is, I need someone at the house. I need someone to watch the bodyguards. I don’t know what they’re going to do, and I’m worried that just firing them will make them angry.”

 

“Ms. Kane, I can make a phone call and have ten men at your house in twenty minutes. Ten trusted men, most with military or police experience, and background checks to prove it.”

 

Dakota wrung her hands. She didn’t know what to do. What if this only angered Scarred Angels? What if it caused them to strike out against her? And then there was Adam, what would he think if Dakota just fired him without talking to him first? Could he ever forgive her for it? But then she remembered what the men at Scarred Angels had said, rich bitch, spoiled princess. Adam was one man; the club was an entity of itself. How much control could he really have? And then there was the note, the Kanes for Joey, she didn’t need to question which one the members would choose.

 

Dakota nodded and a contract was placed in front of her. She signed it and then called the family's attorney, telling him she had ended the contract with Scarred Angels effective immediately and hired Transcontinental Security instead. The lawyer would handle everything including the call to Scarred Angels telling them they had been fired.

 

“Give them a bonus for their hard work, whatever you think is appropriate. I know this is sudden, but I want us to end on the best terms possible,” she instructed and then hung up the phone. Thomas had scanned and faxed the contract over while she had made the call and he sat smugly in front of her, no doubt happy about the bonus he would get for signing a family like the Kanes.

 

“I need something else from you, no questions asked,” Dakota said.

 

“What is it?”

 

“There’s a gang in the city, a different biker gang. The Soul Stealers, I need to know where I can find them.”

 

“Ms. Kane, I’m sure this goes without saying, but you should not involve yourself in a war between gangs. That is a very dangerous position to put yourself in. If you’re in danger, you can tell me and I can help protect you. Scarred Angels should not have involved you in their business, and you should feel no obligation to help them,” Thomas said.

 

“You work for me, do you not?” Dakota asked

 

“I do.”

 

“Then get me the information, or I’ll find someone who will.”

 

“The Stealers have set up shop in Echo Lane,” Adam said to the men surrounding him. “I don’t know that’s where they have Joey, but it’s the best lead we have.” He heard his men muttering around him about Echo Lane. They all knew what that place was like; they had all paid it a visit at least once, and few were eager to return. “If he’s not there, we’ll break a few skulls and find out where he is,” Adam continued. There were no question of who would come; they all would, no order needed to be given.

 

But this was the one thing Adam had never wanted. A gang war was dangerous. People got hurt, civilians not in the game would get hit with crossfire, the cops would find out, and men would be put in jail. There would be a victor, but the cost would be so heavy that it wouldn’t feel anything like victory. But there was nothing to be done about it. The Stealers had started it, and now Scarred Angels was going to end it.

 

“The question is,” Adam said. “How do we ride in: loud or quiet?”

 

“Loud,” said Rick, a junior member. “They think they can fuck with us? I say we go in loud and fast and show them why you don’t mess with the boys in Scarred Angels.” A cheer went up at this, but not everyone cheered along.

 

“Sounds like a great way to get Joey killed,” Mark said from the back. “They have a hostage. We need to get Joey out first, then we can get loud.”

 

“Wait,” Adam said, looking at Mark as he felt his stomach drop. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Dakota.” For a moment, no one spoke. There were low mutterings, but none loud enough for Adam to hear. “What the fuck is going on?” Adam demanded.

 

“The Kanes just fired us,” Bill said, handing Adam a piece of paper that had just been faxed over, the words Immediate Cessation of Contract in bold letters at the top.

 

Adam looked aghast at the picture. Why would Dakota or John have ended the contract? Scarred Angels had saved both of them; they were close to finding out who the backer was. There was only one reason why Dakota would have done something so cruel. “Does she know about Joey? Did someone tell her?” Adam demanded of the room.

 

“No one told her,” Rick finally said, the men around him nodding. “But she got the message. Came waltzing in here earlier today, looking like she owned the place, was calling for you. We put her in the office to wait and she left not too long after.”

 

“The note and picture are in the office. Did she see them?” Adam demanded.

 

“Must have. She left pretty quick.”

 

“How could you let her leave? We signed a contract saying we would protect them.” This flippant attitude was making him crazy. The Kanes had given Scarred Angels a lot of money, they had paid off the mortgage for the club by saving Dakota, and now everyone was ready to toss them aside, to let them die?

 

“We did save them. We got Daddy Kane home in one piece. We’ve done more than enough for the Kanes we need to look out for our own now. The Kanes got enough money. They can just hire someone else,” said a senior member.

 

“She’s in danger,” Adam said, forcing himself to keep his voice low and even. He couldn't afford to get drawn into a shouting match. “The Stealers don’t want us; they want the Kanes.”

 

“Yeah, but they have Joey. Meanwhile the Kanes are locked up tight in their mansion. You need to stop worrying about them, Mendel, and start worrying about your brother. The Kanes are fine. We’ve already been replaced by a ‘real’ security firm,” Mark said. “Look, Adam, it’s us or them now. And they have people looking after them; hell they could get the army down here with one phone call if they wanted. We don’t have anyone that looks after us other than ourselves. We’re brothers. We look out for each other. Are you really gonna let Joey die for them?”

 

“This isn’t about them versus us. We’re on the same side!” Adam yelled. He couldn’t contain his voice anymore. “Dakota Kane did not kidnap Joey. She isn’t holding him for ransom; the Stealers are. They’re just as trapped in it as we are. We have a job to do. We all agreed that going straight was the best call for the club. We took on the Kane job. Hell, Joey was the one who signed the contract! We could have walked away, but we didn’t and we sure as hell aren’t walking away now that things are dangerous. We took this work on and now we have to finish it. We can’t blame this on the Kanes. It isn’t their fault; it isn’t Joey’s fault. It’s the Soul Stealers and whoever’s paying them, that’s who we’re fighting.”

 

“Adam’s right,” Bill said, putting the fax down on the bar. “It ain’t the girl’s fault. But it’s better that she has a new security team. We’re gonna need all hands for Joey. This is going to be dangerous. We’ll be going against a rival gang and we’re going in on Echo Lane. If the Stealers don’t get you, someone else might. Anyone who can’t do the job, who can’t follow orders, should leave now.”

 

No one moved. No one spoke. A room full of men armed to the teeth. Men who were afraid of death and pain, men with wives and children, they would all go. Adam looked at the room around him, at his brothers. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had signed the Kane contract. Back then his biggest worry was one of his men hitting on Dakota Kane. But Adam had been the unstable element. Back then he had trusted himself more than anyone else; he had been so sure he could resist the charms of Dakota, but she had pulled him in and, even now, he missed her and wished that she were close.

 

He never would have dreamed that signing the Kane contract would have brought him to this moment. His own body sore and bruised, his best friend kidnapped, and Scarred Angels standing at the edge, about to tip over into a war. It had all been about the money then, but now it was about everything else. It was about love and loyalty and doing the right thing. Those were abstract concepts, not worth dying over, but these men in front of him were the real deal. They were family and they would fight for each other.

 

But what about Dakota? Could she ever be part of the family? Would his men ever go to bat for her like they did for each other? Adam’s heart was wrenched at the thought of what she was thinking. She had found the picture and the note, the threat written on there. She didn’t trust Adam or Scarred Angels anymore and the worst part was that Adam couldn’t blame her. The club had done what it always did in times of crisis: it had banded together. But when they came together, it meant other things and other people had to be pushed away.

 

If only Adam had been there to talk to her, to promise her that he would keep her safe and rescue Joey. He could do both. He was sure of it. But she was gone now, in hiding with her new security team. It’s better this way, Adam thought. If Dakota knew what they planned, she would want to come along, and there was no way that Adam could have brought her to Echo Lane. No, let her stay where she could be safe, where Adam wouldn’t have to worry. He could focus on getting Joey back and then he would fix everything with Dakota. Right now, it was time to prepare for battle. To put on armor and ready his weapons, Scarred Angels was going to war.

 

Echo Lane. They told stories about the place when Dakota was in high school, stories of girls who went there looking for drugs and never came back out. People would later claim to see these girls hooking on street corners, another person sucked into the game. Dakota had never believed them. They always involved a friend’s cousin’s brother’s ex-girlfriend; they were too far removed to be real. But Echo Lane itself, that was a real place, a bad place.

 

In high school they used to drive past it. They would skirt past the edges of the dangerous neighborhood, seeing how close they could get, what they could see, what stories they could bring home. They had been spoiled tourists, ogling at the poverty that existed alongside their mansions, golf courses, and stables. It had been tasteless, but as teenagers they hadn’t known better.

 

Even in her charity work, Dakota had little to do with Echo Lane. The people there considered themselves past hope. It’s the saddest thing in the world, Dakota thought, when there isn’t even the hope that you might make it out. That was where Dakota was going, to Echo Lane, alone.

 

Was this incredibly stupid? Maybe, Dakota figured, but it was the fastest way to end all of this. If all the Soul Stealers cared about was money, then giving them a lot of it should convince them. But she knew what she was doing wasn’t right. The Soul Stealers were bad and she was going to give them a lot of money to fund their bad deeds. Was that fair, the cost of her and her father’s life against what this money could give the Stealers? Maybe they weren’t all bad. Maybe they could be like Scarred Angels and go straight.

 

In the end, Dakota had weighed the negatives and the positives. The Stealers had kidnapped Joey to turn Scarred Angels against the Kanes. If not sorted out soon, this could cause a gang war. There would be casualties, jail time, innocent people would get hurt. Funding the Soul Stealers might give them more money to buy guns and drugs, or it could be money they used to go straight. Either way, she could trade it for Joey and get the name of who was paying them to attack her family.

 

She hadn’t heard from Adam, but she didn’t expect to. He would never choose a client over the club. No matter how much he liked that client or how good the sex was, he would never put her before them. Adam Kane was kind and good, but before all of that, he was loyal. He owed everything in his life to Scarred Angels. Those men were his brothers and he would wage a war for them, a war that could see Adam as a prime target.

 

That was the other reason she was driving her car farther and farther from the center of the city. Adam wouldn’t just be involved in the war; he would be a general. In a fight of gang versus gang, it would be the leaders who would be the most vulnerable. The Soul Stealers would want to cripple Scarred Angels quickly; the best way to do that would be to take out their leader and their heart: Adam Mendel. If this money could save Adam, there was no limit to what Dakota would have spent.

 

The streets around her were getting worse. There was trash piled up on the corners and few lights on the houses. Men and women sat idling on stoops, flares of light going up in front of their faces as they lit up whatever they were smoking. The streetlights were weak, and every other one was either out or broken, some still lying in the street where they had fallen. Dakota slowed as the potholes in the damaged street grew worse and worse. Echo Lane, how the wealthy of the city had tossed it aside, claimed it a lost cause. There were still people living here, people who needed help, but would never get it.

 

Was giving this money to the Soul Stealers the right thing to do? What would happen to this neighborhood if they were given all this money? Would it just make the place worse? Would it increase the violence and the drugs? Dakota had always thought she knew what the right thing to do was. Charity was good for all, except when it wasn’t, when it went to the wrong people, when it only made things worse.

 

I won’t forget, she thought to herself. Whatever money she gave to the Soul Stealers, she would give three times as much to this neighborhood. She could come here every day and make sure the money went where it should. She would make it better. And hopefully this would end the war before it began. Adam wouldn’t have to trade Dakota and her father in for Joey. If she did this, he wouldn’t have to make that choice.

 

She wished Adam were there with her. Not that he would have let her go, he would have forbidden it, and Dakota understood why. Echo Lane made The Black Mark look like a Hilton. It was beyond dangerous. In Echo Lane, Dakota couldn’t be sure the cops would come if she called them. No, Adam would have convinced her to stay home. He would have put her in his house, set the alarms and the locks, and he would have gone. Dakota could have stayed safe. She would be curled up, eyes stuck on her phone, waiting desperately for him to call.

 

Adam would have known how to handle the Soul Stealers; he would have all of Scarred Angels behind him. He would never go alone; he wouldn’t have to. Dakota was envious of the brotherhood that Scarred Angels shared. She was an only child, and while she had many friends, she hadn’t bothered to ask any of them to come; she knew none of them would. They talked about being best friends for life, but none of them would have traveled into this lion’s den with her.

 

She wiped an errant tear away. Don’t be sad; be angry! She counseled herself. The Soul Stealers had done something that was equal parts genius and foolish. In kidnapping Joey they had driven a wedge between the Kanes and their protector employees. It was an undefeatable wedge. No amount of money would have convinced Scarred Angels that losing one of their brothers was worth it. No amount of money could make things okay between Scarred Angels and the Kanes. But they had also made a lifelong and dangerous enemy. Scarred Angels might have been working hard to go straight, but that transition hadn’t made them weak, or easily pressured. When pushed, they would still push back.

 

No amount of money could repair the rift created by the Soul Stealers, the rift that had separated the Kanes and Scarred Angels. But money could do one thing in this scenario. It could get Joey back and maybe, just maybe, it could reveal the identity of their erstwhile killer. However much the attacker was paying the Soul Stealers, Dakota would double it. And all she needed was the name.

 

She had her sale’s pitch ready to go. The Soul Stealers were paid a certain sum of money to kill her and her father. Killing the two of them, no doubt, involved a lot of work, time, and money. There had been plans, necessary to avoid arrest after, transportation, whatever. Dakota, for her part, would pay them double and all she would need was the name of who had paid them. That’s it just a name, twice as much money, and all they would have to do is speak. From there, the money would be theirs free and clear.

 

She hadn’t brought the money with her; she knew better. That morning she had gone to several banks and within a few hours she had one million dollars in a red duffle bag. The money, in cash, was in a storage locker at the airport. Dakota had a time stamped photo of the money. She would show them the picture and then, when she had what she needed, she would give them the pass code and the Soul Stealers could open the locker and get the money. Once she had her information, and confirmed it was the correct name, she would give them another million the same way and they would part ways. If it were more than two million, then so be it. There was no amount of money she wouldn’t pay for her family's safety.

 

Adam looked at his men, all of them. Every member of Scarred Angels who could walk was here, all of them armed to teeth and ready for war. His entire life, Adam had wanted to join Scarred Angels. The only pleasant memories he had of his father was sitting and watching the older man work on his bike. Adam could still remember his father’s grease stained fingers, the knuckles, and the hard, calloused hands. The only time his father was a real father was when he was working on his bike. He and Adam would spend hours together, his father pointing out the million different pieces of the bike, and Adam, so desperate to please him, had memorized every one.

 

Then it was the same with his uncle. Bill stayed away from the hard drugs. He was a hardworking, quiet man. On that fateful day when Bill had come to rescue Adam from the Kane Home for Young boys, Adam had been terrified. He remembered his uncle as a constant thorn in his father’s side. Bill was the name that was cursed in the house. His father was always talking about Bill and how he thought himself so much better than the rest. Then Adam had met the man himself, quiet and imposing.

 

But even as a young boy, Adam knew the reason his father hated his brother was because Bill refused to give them money. His father would call and beg, lie, and bargain for cash and while Bill was willing to pay the electricity or buy school clothes for Adam, he refused to give outright cash. Bill was well aware that the money requested wasn’t for a field trip for Adam; it was for crack and he refused to enable them. Bill would call and try anything to get Adam’s father into rehab, or to rescue Adam from the house. But Adam’s parents wouldn’t hear of it. They refused to quit the drugs and they refused to give up their son. And eventually, just as predicted, the state had come for them and Adam and the family had been ripped apart.

 

Scarred Angels was how Adam and Bill finally connected. After school, Adam would go to the garage where his uncle worked and he would watch the older man meticulously take apart a complex machine, find the problem, and put it back together. Adam helped, how could he not? He had been trained from an early age. In the garage, he met the other members of Scarred Angels. He met Joey’s father. Members of Scarred Angels had picked him up from school, had made him dinner, taught him how to drive right. From the age of eleven all Adam wanted was to be a member, to always have these brothers in his life.

 

Now they all stood before him. Adam felt like a general, but a woefully prepared one. He was their leader now. He would have to be the one to tell them to go. He would tell this man to go here and another to go there. Who would live, who would die, no one could say. It wasn’t up to fate; it was up to Adam. He didn’t know what he would do if one of them fell, if someone died because of the decisions he made.

 

He should have tried harder to figure out who was hurting the Kanes. At the time, he had left it to the police. People would say what they wanted about cops, but he knew when a family like the Kanes was on the line, the police would stop at nothing until the killer was captured. Adam had assumed that his job was protection and nothing more. But he was protecting the Kanes against a specific target and they hadn’t done enough to figure out who the attacker was. And now they were going to war.

 

And what about Dakota? Sweet, kind, gentle Dakota. Dakota was the kind of person who snuck out at night to get toys for a crying boy, who actually worked at her charities, who worked to make the world a better place. But it was more than that. Yes she was kind, but she was also sexy. Still he could remember the touch of her skin, the way it felt to be inside of her, the cries she let out in the throes of passion. Dakota, standing by his workbench wearing only an old t-shirt of Adam’s, he could still see her, the sunlight glinting off of her hair.

 

Did she think he would ever hurt her? That he would ever allow anyone to hurt her? Never. Not even Scarred Angels, the group he was sworn to above all others; he would never allow them to hurt her, to trade her in. Not that they would have. Scarred Angels would get Joey back, not by trade, but by war. They would find the Stealers where they rested and they would root them all out. They would burn their clubhouse to the ground and salt the ashes. But they would never have traded an innocent life.

 

Is that what Dakota thought? That her life was in danger, that Adam might hurt her? Didn’t she understand how precious she was to him, how important? But he looked over his sea of men and knew they were just as important. It wasn’t an either or scenario; it was all of them. They were all going to survive. It was the Soul Stealers who would fall.

 

They were in a garage warehouse that belonged to the gang. It was where they kept their bikes and some of their illegal items they didn’t want the police knowing about. The garage was outfitted like a bunker, but tonight they weren’t going to stay safe at home; they were going to go out and hunt the Stealers down. Adam felt a nudge on his shoulder. It was Bill, reminding him there was work to be done and Adam needed to do it.

 

Launching himself up on a cement platform Adam looked out at the men assembled before him. He knew them all, men he had ridden with, fought with, partied with, and mourned with. He looked at them all and then, clearing his throat, he said to them, “Tonight isn’t going to be easy, and it isn’t going to be safe. Echo Lane is bad; the Stealers are worse. There will be fighting and bloodshed and death. But they have one of our own, and we will not permit that to stand. Much will be required tonight, but I know we have what we need. If any one of you isn't prepared for this, isn’t ready for what we’re about to face, then leave now, because our plan needs each and every one of you to work. Everyone has their assignments and everyone must stick to them. If you think you can’t handle it, then walk out this door and know it’s the right thing to do.”

 

No one moved.

 

“Joey has been my friend since we were both in school. When the Stealers took him, they thought they could break us. They thought they could tell us what to do. They thought they could rule us. But we are Scarred Angels and no one rules us. Anyone touches us, we will strike back against them a thousand times worse. Let’s ride.” The men around him cheered as Adam descended from the podium. He stopped, looking at his uncle and the older man put one hand on Adam’s shoulder, and then Adam moved on.

 

He checked the pistol in its holster, and the shotgun attached to the side of the bike. He strapped his helmet into place and heard his bike roar to life beneath him with the sound of four other bikes. He was the advanced guard. They would go, scope the place out, and find out how many men and guns, how many buildings. They would formulate the plan of attack and the rest of Scarred Angels would follow.

 

He thought of Dakota one last time, imagining her kiss, the feel of her skin, her laugh. And then he banished her from his mind. Dakota was too sweet and kind; he couldn’t think of her and do what he needed to do. He needed to be tough and resilient, and cruel if it called for it. He needed to be iron and stone. He needed to be judgmental thunder brought down from the heavens. He needed to cause fear in who he was about to meet. But he couldn’t do that and think of her. He needed to turn off the Adam she loved and turn on the Adam that men feared.

 

Dakota had called the Stealers that morning; she had told them she would meet them at nine o’clock that night. It was eight fifty-five and she was only a few blocks away. She was deep in Echo Lane now; the only sounds were the occasional roar of an engine and shouts, cries and screams. There was no laughter or light, only darkness. She could die in here she knew that. She could be kidnapped and ransomed; she could be kidnapped and never seen again. Her only consolation was that she was worth more than the money in the storage locker. If things got really dicey, she could promise them more money, any amount of money they wanted; they could have it all as far as Dakota Kane was concerned.

 

She turned down a dirt road. There was a hand-painted sign, dark black letters against a chipped white background. “Dead men tell no tales,” it warned her. But this was where the Stealers were, so she turned and slowly drove up the lane. About fifty meters down, she came upon a chain that stretched across the road. She stopped before it, unsure what to do. And then her heart stopped as two men emerged from an abandoned-looking building and strolled over to her car.

 

She was dressed as normal as she could manage: jeans that weren't too tight and a baggy black shirt, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. She had no idea what would make the members of Soul Stealers angry, so she needed to be as nondescript as possible. She rolled her window down all the way and watched as the men walked towards her. They were both over six feet tall and heavy, both with shotguns in their hands.

 

“I’m here to see Charlie,” Dakota said, not allowing her voice to waver or shake. She looked at both men in the eye, extruding a confidence she did not feel.

 

“You got an appointment?” one of the men asked, leaning into Dakota’s window and peering around her empty car while the other gentleman circled the vehicle.

 

“Yes, I do,” she said, not giving him her name.

 

“Pop your trunk,” the man ordered as he shined a flashlight through her window.

 

Dakota did as she was told and she watched through her rearview mirror as the second man looked in her trunk. There was nothing back there but the spare tire and he was done quickly. She watched the other man join his friend at the driver’s side window.

 

“Looks all clean,” the second man said, staring at Dakota. “Pretty brave for a pretty girl like you to come all the way to Echo Lane.”

 

“I have some business to offer your club and I can’t imagine your boss would be happy with you delaying me,” Dakota said. She had no idea what she was doing. She was copying the movies she had seen with gangsters and spies, with no real idea if this was how people acted in the real world. But her confidence seemed to work as one man nodded at the other and they walked over and released the chain, allowing her to drive through.

 

She drove and watched them put the chain back in her rearview mirror. Her heart was pounding, but Dakota knew she had already gotten past the first part of the gauntlet. One down, but who knows how many left. As she continued down the dark road, Dakota could see lights in the distance in front of her. It was a large, but dilapidated house that someone had started to work on. Falling rafters were held up with unfinished two-by-fours, windows were boarded up, and new stairs had been put on the front. But the main building itself was musty and old, the roof covered in moss, the exterior walls covered in a chipping black paint.

 

And in front of it were several men, tall and strong. They sat next to a line of motorcycles. Each one had a beer in his hand and most were smoking. Dakota could smell tobacco, weed, and something else. It was a nasty chemical smell that stuck in her nose and wouldn’t leave.

 

Dakota wasn’t sure what to do, but she knew confidence was key. She parked her car in the lot, turned off the engine, and got out, walking towards the men outside the building with confidence. She carried nothing in her hands. As she approached the men, most of them just stared at her with a glassy-eyed expression.

 

“I’m here to see Charlie,” Dakota said to the group. “I have an appointment. Is he inside?” She was determined to remain in control of what happened.

 

“Chip, frisk her,” she heard one man say.

 

Without breaking, Dakota spread her legs and put her palms against the rough wood of a railing. She felt a man run his hands up and down her legs, over her butt, her stomach and her breasts. She didn’t flinch or react at all. She felt him slip the photo of the money out of her back pocket and he gave a low whistle. “You done?” Dakota asked, turning around, “because that’s for your boss. Where is he?” She took the photo out of his hand and waited for the man to respond.

 

“He’s inside,” he said, jerking his head towards the door.

 

She didn’t wait another moment. She turned and walked up the stairs, past the men who openly ogled her, one letting out a wolf whistle that made Dakota roll her eyes. She pulled at the door, hoping that outside was just a ruse to fool people, but inside the structure was much like the outside. Someone had redone the floor, but it was just rough wood. Inside it was one big open room with a few ratty couches and sinking chairs, a TV in the corner emitting nothing but fuzz.

 

There were fewer men inside, most of them surrounding the TV, trying to get it work. This is it, Dakota thought to herself. This was who was trying to kill her family, a group of men who couldn’t get the TV to work? It made sense that they had failed so many times. It was sad, really, these men all grouped together with nothing to do but ruin other people’s lives. It was nothing like Scarred Angels, nothing at all.

 

No one said anything. A woman had just infiltrated their club and no one inside seemed to notice. Dakota began to have real hope that her plan would work. The Soul Stealers were desperate and disorganized; they would want the money, if only for cable. But where was Joey? She didn’t see the battered man anywhere. There were two other doors in the long room, but she had no idea which one was hiding him.

 

Finally, Dakota spotted someone who looked like he knew what he was doing. He was an older man, with short, dark hair that was greying at the temples. He was standing over a desk made by a board sitting on stacked cement blocks. There was a map in front of him and sticky notes with an unreadable scrawl, tacked at various places on the map. “Charlie?” Dakota asked walking up to him.

 

He whipped his head up and faced her and a snarl appeared on his lips. He looked over at the men watching TV and shook his head in disgust. “You just walked in here, didn’t you?” he asked. His voice was low and gravelly, and he didn’t look like a biker. He was tall and lean, but clean-shaven, with short hair. He was wearing a business suit and it looked like he had never even seen a motorcycle, let alone ridden on one.

 

“Your guards on the road searched my vehicle,” Dakota offered as she threw down the picture of the money.

 

Charlie stared at it for a moment, a dangerous smile playing across his lips. “You didn’t bring it?” he asked.

 

“Do I look like an idiot?” Dakota asked. “The money is in a locker at the airport. You give me Joey and the name of the man who attacked me and I’ll give you the code to unlock it. Once we can prove you’ve given the right name for the man who's been hurting my family, I’ll give you the other million.”

 

“And how can I trust you, Ms. Kane?” Charlie asked. “How do I know that bag isn’t filled with fake money? How do I know the police aren’t waiting to arrest who ever opens that locker? How do I know you’ll give me the other half?”

 

“How do I know you’re going to keep your part of the bargain, that you won’t kill me and Joey after getting the first number? Trust needs to starts somewhere, Charlie. Send a man to the airport. I’ll wait to make sure he has the money and is on his way. Once he is, Joey and I will leave, and I give you my word you’ll get the other half if you give me the real name. And trust needs to start somewhere, but I think we should trust not each other, but our motivations. I want this to be over, and I think you want the same thing, plus money. This way, we both get what we want. There’s no need to double cross or lie. Let’s just get what we want and get out. Now let me see Joey. I need to know he’s alive.”

 

They drove as quietly as they could into Echo Lane. Adam was in the lead with Robbie, Mike, Bill, and Wade following behind him. According to rumors, the Stealers hadn’t tamed Echo Lane yet. It wasn’t surprising that it would be a tough job. When a real biker gang set up shop in a neighborhood, they got to know their neighbors, got rid of other competition. The point of it was to turn those neighbors into a sort of front line. They would tell you when someone else was riding on your turf. Adam wasn’t sure how much the neighborhood liked the Stealers, if at this exact moment a call was going to the Stealers letting them know Scarred Angels was coming.

 

They were a block away from the long lane that led to the Stealers’ headquarters. The men all silenced their bikes, turning off their lights and using their legs to propel themselves forward. Once they were close enough, Adam and Robbie hopped off their bikes and hunched over as they began to make their way through the rubble and trash towards the two men who Adam knew guarded the road. He could just make out the chain that stretched across the road and knew they must be close.

 

They stopped and listened, hearing the faint sound of music coming from one of the outbuildings. Together the two men silently snuck up and peered through the window. As Adam suspected, it was a shithole. A literal hole in the wall led to a small room with a futon mattress propped up as an imitation couch. Two men were smoking and listening to the tinny sound of music playing from a cheap cell phone.

 

Adam nodded at Robbie as he pulled out his shotgun and Robbie did the same thing. Adam silently counted to three and then he ran into the hole in the wall, into the sneaking room.

 

“Don’t move, don’t speak,” Adam hissed. The two men both looked shocked and confused, staring at Adam wide eyed, both of their hands in the air. Robbie hurried over and pulled their guns and knives free, putting them in his pocket and nodding at Adam. “Clothes off,” Adam spit. The two hostages look confused at each other, and didn't move. “I said, take them off, down to your boxers.”

 

The two men were quick to obey, stripping off their dirty jackets and town jeans, all of which Robbie scooped up and threw out into the woods. Once they were undressed Adam had them lie on their stomachs on the floor and watched as Robbie expertly hogtied them both up, gagging them, as well.

 

Adam didn’t bother to ask if there were others out here. He couldn’t trust either of these men to tell him the truth. “Clear, over” he said into his walkie-talkie.

 

Somewhere down the lane Mike, Bill, and Wade silently brought their bikes. They parked them in the guardhouse and, silently, the five men made their way to the Soul Stealers’ headquarters. They stuck to the scrub on the side of the road, ready to drop to the ground if car lights came, but there was only silence, and the only light came from the dilapidated building not far ahead.

 

“The fuck, Adam?” he heard Mike whisper. “Isn’t that the Kane girl’s car?”

 

Adam’s heart stopped. It was Dakota’s Prius. Parked amongst motorcycles and dirt bikes.

 

“What’s that doing here? She working with the Stealers?” Robbie asked.

 

“Working with the Stealers, they tried to kill her! You think they got her in there somewhere?” Mike asked.

 

But Adam didn’t know. He hadn’t contacted Dakota and she hadn’t contacted him. He had put her out of his head, determined not to let his feelings affect his judgment. He never thought this could happen, Dakota here. In his mind, he had assumed she was under lock and key at her father’s house, safe and sound under the guard of another man. “Plan doesn’t change,” Adam said through clenched teeth. The plan couldn't change. At this moment, he knew the rest of the Stealers had left their headquarters and were on their way. There were too many moving parts for it to all be tossed just because Dakota’s car was in the Soul Stealers’ driveway. He forced it out of his mind, refused to let his imagination run wild. He needed to stay in control, now more than ever.

 

“I count nine out front,” Mike said as Robbie and Wade left in separate directions. They would circle the building and come back with a count of who was inside.

 

Adam watched the men in the parking lot. Of the nine, three were smoking weed, two were smoking cigarettes, and four were smoking crack. He couldn’t help but smile. Seven out of nine stoned to the point of incapacitation. Taking the outside of the building would be easy. He glanced at his watch, knowing the rest of Scarred Angels was only fifteen minutes out.

 

“I count ten more inside, and I saw Dakota,” Robbie said as he and Mike rejoined them. Adam stomach dropped, but he refused to let his facial expression change. “She was talking to the leader, a guy named Charlie. He don’t look like any biker I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Joey?” Adam asked.

 

“No sign of him. What is Dakota Kane doing here?”

 

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter,” Adam said. “We need to secure the exterior.”

 

“Should we wait for the rest of the guys?” Mike asked.

 

“Nine guys, seven of them high. I think we can take ‘em.”

 

Guns drawn, the five men fanned out and silently approached the building. Adam couldn’t help but be disgusted with the Soul Stealers security. They no doubt assumed that Echo Lane itself would keep most people away, but Scarred Angels wasn’t most people. But the Stealers didn’t know they were coming; they probably thought they had enough time. Or they thought holding Joey hostage would keep Scarred Angels away. They were wrong on both counts.

 

At once the five men emerged from the thin trees that surrounded the headquarters. Their guns out, they raced at the nine men who were sitting outside.

 

“Don’t move, don’t speak,” Adam said, holding his shotgun against one man’s throat as his fellows surrounded the smoking men. The men were high and clumsy, struggling to their feet, their glassy eyes staring around them in confusion.

 

“Guns, weapons, drugs, on the ground,” Mike said, his shotgun pointed at the Soul Stealers’ heads.

 

They watched as the men tossed pistols, switchblades and bags of white powder down onto the ground. Adam kept glancing at the door to the headquarters, but no one came out. And no one out here made a sound, but he didn’t know how much long he could count on that.

 

“On your knees,” Mike ordered, and one by one in a line the men fell to their knees and were quickly hogtied like the other men at the guardhouse, left on the ground to make themselves as comfortable as possible. They had done it just in time. Adam could hear the roar of motorcycles behind him as Scarred Angels came pouring down the dirt road to wage war against the Soul Stealers.

 

Dakota, he thought. He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t help himself. Did they have two hostages? Had they hurt her? How had a simple protection contract turned into this?

 

“Bring out the boy, and send Mac to the airport, remind that idiot that he can’t bring anything in there or the cops’ll get him,” Charlie said to a man slumped over in an old armchair.

 

The man slowly got up and walked to one of the doors in the large room, unlocked it, and emerged a few seconds later, bringing a battered and beaten Joey out with him.

 

Dakota looked at Joey and he attempted to give her a smile, but it turned into a wince and he gave it up. His nose was bruised and broken, his left eye was swollen shut and his bottom lip had been split open, but he didn’t cry or beg for help. He stood as tall as he was able and glared at his captors.

 

“If the money is there, Joey is yours. The name of my backer, however...that I cannot so easily part with,” Charlie said as Joey was dropped onto his knees on the floor and the man walked out into the night.

 

“All I want is a name. However much your backer has paid you, I can pay you more. And let’s be perfectly honest with ourselves, you haven't done a great job with this, and I can’t imagine your backer is happy. You give me the name and then you won’t have to work for him or anyone else for quite a while. No need to clean up this mess. We can just sweep it right under the rug.”

 

Charlie looked at Dakota. His eyes travelled up her body until he finally looked her in the eye, but Dakota was used to this by now and she stared at him as he treated her body like something that existed solely for his pleasure. She refused to be intimidated by this man who treated her life and the life of her father as if it were nothing.

 

“Two million,” she said with confidence. “Two million for the name of the man who hired you to kill my family. Cash, unmarked bills.”

 

Charlie licked his lips and looked from Dakota to Joey. “And what about Scarred Angels?” he asked.

 

“Scarred Angels doesn’t work for me anymore. I can’t tell them what to do. You took one of their own. That’s on you, not me.”

 

“Yes, we’ve made some enemies. But with three million dollars, the Soul Stealers won’t be a joke anymore. We’ll be a real threat. Are you willing to do that to Scarred Angels, to Adam Mendel? Are you really willing to fund their enemies?”

 

“I’m willing to do whatever it takes to protect my family. We don’t want any of this. We never did. Three million dollars gets us out. Whatever happens after isn’t my concern,” Dakota said.

 

Charlie opened his mouth to speak, but then he stopped and cocked his head to the right. Unconsciously, Dakota did the same thing. They were both listening to something they could not yet identify. They could both hear the roar, but it took them a moment to figure out what it was. It was the roar of dozens of bikes racing down the dirt road; Scarred Angels had arrived.

 

“Judgment Day,” Joey said, still kneeling on the floor. But he didn’t look scared or weak. He looked defiant.

 

“I didn’t call them,” Dakota said to Charlie who was staring furiously at her. How did Adam know she was here? What would he think when he saw her? What would he say when he heard what she had done? He would never forgive her. But while Adam put Scarred Angels in front of everything else in his life, Dakota couldn’t say the same. She needed to protect herself and her father, and this was the only way to do it.

 

“Everybody up!” Charlie screamed, as he pulled a gun out from underneath the table and pointed it right in Dakota’s face. The men around the TV scrambled, grabbing guns and positioning themselves at the windows.

 

“Don’t bother,” Joey said, “you’re outnumbered and outgunned.”

 

“Shut up!” Charlie repeated, but his gun and his eyes stayed on Dakota. “You still hooking up with Adam Mendel?” he sneered. “Did you enjoy slumming it with a biker?”

 

Dakota didn’t answer, though she wondered how this man had found out. She remained frozen to the spot, staring past the gun to the man who held it. The gun was pointed right at her face; she could see down the barrel. She could die at any second, and there was nothing she could do about it.

 

“Move,” he ordered, pointing the gun at Joey, as well.

 

Dakota walked over to Joey and helped him rise unsteadily to his feet. She felt pressure on her back and realized that Charlie had his gun pushed up against her back as she and Joey were shuffled over to the white door.

 

“Open it,” Charlie said, and Dakota reached over and slowly opened the door. The roar of motorcycles was getting louder. The ill-lit headquarters was bathed in bright light from the motorcycles’ lights outside.

 

But Dakota could only get a glimpse of what was happening; the Soul Stealers were lining themselves up against the walls near the window, guns at the ready. And then the door was slammed shut and locked, leaving Dakota and Joey trapped in a dark room.

 

“Are you all right?” Dakota asked as Joey slunk to the floor.

 

“Oh, yeah, never better,” the young man joked as he let out a beleaguered cough. “Just a couple of bumps and bruises. Nothing to worry about.”

 

“I’m so sorry this happened to you, Joey,” Dakota said, sitting down on the floor next to Joey. The room was small, only about five feet by five feet, and there was no furniture or anything on the walls, just four bare walls and a single light bulb in the ceiling.

 

“Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. The Stealers got desperate. They couldn’t get you, so they lashed out at us. It’s not your fault. Were you really going to pay them a million dollars for me?” he asked, a small smile appearing on his face.

 

“Of course,” Dakota answered. “I wasn’t going to leave you here. It’s so gross.”

 

“Yeah, it’s a real shithole. Worse than I ever thought. Half these guys are on crack. I don’t know what kind of crew they’re trying to make here. But I don’t think it’s going well.”

 

“What’s going to happen now?” Dakota asked, listening to the roar of the bikes outside.

 

“Probably Adam will tell them that if they let us go unharmed and scatter themselves, no one will get hurt,” Joey answered with a sigh.

 

“Will they?” Dakota asked.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

They both stared at the closed and locked white door. Dakota was desperate to know what was going on outside, what was going to happen to her and Joey, what was going to happen to Adam. Sitting in the room, Dakota felt her adrenaline leave her, all the energy that was fueling her confidence draining out of her. It was one thing to negotiate with Charlie, to have some control over her situation. It was quite another to be trapped in this room, stuck waiting for whatever would happen to happen. She drew her arms around herself and fought back tears as she looked at the locked door. Her money and wealth were nothing now. All she could do was hope that Adam was prepared and that he would be willing to save her.

 

Dakota and Joey both jerked their heads up as they heard the sound of locks being undone and the doorknob slowly twisting. She reached out for Joey’s hand and when she found it he gave her a reassuring squeeze. Slowly the door opened and Charlie walked in, gun drawn. He wasn’t alone, though. James Hastings was with him.

 

The bikes of Scarred Angels were lined up in front of the Soul Stealers’ headquarters. The hostages they had taken laid hogtied in the road between the two gangs, uncomfortable, but otherwise unharmed. Members of Scarred Angels were out back, as well, cutting off the Soul Stealers’ escape. Adam and his men were waiting beyond the wall of bikes, hiding behind the light. There was no movement from inside.

 

Adam was handed a megaphone and he weighed it in his hands for a moment before bringing it up and shouting out a warning. “Release your hostages. If they come to us unharmed, we’ll let you leave. But if you don’t, this will be a firefight you can’t win. Any Soul Stealer who values his life will come out now with their hands up, and we will let you leave, unharmed.”

 

They had only waited a minute before the door opened and three men came out, their hands up. They walked over to the other hostages and knelt down, hands still in the air.

 

“It could be a trap,” Bill said, holding Adam back.

 

“Only one way to find out,” Adam responded and he motioned for the men to walk back behind the wall of bikes. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust and in that moment members of Scarred Angels frisked them for weapons and put their hands behind their backs.

 

“We don’t want nothing to do with this, man,” one of them whimpered. “We never touched any of the Kanes, swear it.”

 

“This isn’t about the Kanes,” Adam yelled. “What about Joey?”

 

“I didn’t touch him. He’s a little roughed up, but nothing permanent, man.”

 

“What about the girl?” Bill asked. And Adam wished he could thank his uncle. He was desperate to know about Dakota, but knew he couldn’t ask.

 

“She came with money. Was gonna pay for your guy’s release and wanted the name of the guy who ordered the hit. She was offering big money. Like three million dollars big.”

 

Adam stifled a sob. Dakota had come here, to Echo Lane, by herself to pay for Joey. She thought Scarred Angels had turned against her family and instead of turning against them, she put herself on the line to save one of their own.

 

Dakota was in there, somewhere. This couldn’t turn into a firefight until she and Joey were both out and safe. Only then could they burn this place to the ground.

 

“Boss,” Adam heard from his walkie-talkie, “I got an entrance in the back. I see right in. We got three guys on each window. Not many left, no signs of Joey, over”

 

“I’ll be right there, over,” Adam said, and taking ten men with him, they snuck around to the side of the house. Pushing their way through weeds, short trees, and garbage Adam and his men found their way to the back of the house.

 

One of his boys was standing next to a large piece of plywood propped up against the wall. Motioning for quiet, the man pulled the wood away and Adam could see right into the Soul Stealers’ headquarters. He could see nine men, each holding a shotgun and multiple shells. They were at the windows, sneaking glances out. But Adam knew they couldn’t see past the lights.

 

Where were Dakota and Joey? The large room had two doors and he figured they must be behind one of them. But what should Adam do? If he started a fight, he could get them both killed, but he gained nothing by waiting; there could be reinforcements on the way.

 

“Bill,” Adam said quietly into his walkie after they put the piece of wood back. “Call for the hostages again, tell them you want to talk to their leader, over.”

 

“Roger,” Bill said.

 

“Soul Stealers,” it was Bill’s voice booming from the megaphone. “We have more hostages out here than you have fighting for you. We want the return of our man and the girl. Bring them both out, or bring out your leader to discuss terms.”

 

They moved the plywood, but no one inside moved, neither door opened.

 

“In thirty seconds, we’re going in through the back, then you come in through the front. We have clear eyes on everyone back there, anyone coming through the front door is a Stealer, roger?” Adam said into his walkie.

 

“Roger,” Bill answered.

 

“Mark,” Adam said. He looked at his watch; it had been a gift from his uncle the day he graduated from high school. He watched the seconds tick down as the men around him pulled out their guns and got ready for the fight. Each second felt like an eternity as he watched the large hand tick away and forced himself to not imagine what was happening to Joey and Dakota inside.

 

They’ll be fine, he repeated to himself as the seconds ticked past. When there were ten seconds left, Adam brought up his hand. He whispered the last countdown, “Five, four, three, two, one. Hands up! Nobody move!” Scarred Angels poured in through the hole in the wall, surprising the few Soul Stealers who were still inside. At Adam’s order half of them dropped their guns while the other half began shooting wildly.

 

Adam and his men hid behind whatever they could find as bullets whipped past them. And then there was another yell as more members of Scarred Angels knocked down the front door and raced in, taking out the men who were still shooting. In seconds, it was over.

 

Nine more Soul Stealers were trussed up along with their brothers, their weapons and ammunition taken from them. Adam marched over to the one man who had been shooting and, taking him by the thin collar of his shirt, Adam pushed him against the wall. “Where are the hostages?” he demanded.

 

“Fuck you,” the man responded.

 

Adam released the man’s neck and nodded to two of his men who each took the Soul Stealer by his arms. Adam reared back and slammed his fist into the other man’s stomach and the man coughed and doubled over, but failed to speak. Adam stood up, ready to hit him again, when he heard someone call his name.

 

Bill was standing by the door, his ear against the wood, “In there,” he said with a nod. And then a shot rang out as the door exploded and blood splattered the white door as Bill fell back.

 

“Don’t shoot!” Adam shouted as the men of Scarred Angels erupted and pointed their arsenal at the white door. “Joey and Dakota are in there,” Adam said as he rushed over to his uncle. He was bleeding on the floor, but he was still awake. The bullet had ripped through his thigh, and someone was already making a tourniquet out of a bed sheet they had found.

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Bill said through clenched teeth.

 

“You need to get to a hospital,” Adam said.

 

“Not until Joey’s out,” Bill said.

 

Adam had never been this furious in his life. They had kidnapped and beaten his best friend, turned the woman he loved away from him and taken her hostage, and now they had shot his uncle, the man who had raised him. Adam was done with the Soul Stealers, done. He was going to take them out, all of them.

 

“James?” Dakota said as she looked at her father’s oldest and closest friend.

 

“You’re the guy who hired us,” Joey said, staring equally confused at James.

 

“Yes,” James said, as he pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the sweat from his brow. “Yes it is me, Dakota.”

 

“What are you doing here?” Dakota asked.

 

“Have you not guessed?” James asked.

 

But Dakota had been rendered speechless. James Hastings on Echo Lane, standing before her in his imperious all black three-piece suit and perfectly shined shoes. Charlie stood next to him, gun still in his hand, smiling a knowing smile.

 

“It was you,” Joey said.

 

“No,” Dakota interrupted. It couldn’t be James Hastings. He was Dakota’s godfather. He had been with her father at the hospital. He had been roommates with her father in college.

 

“Yes, I’m afraid so, dear girl,” James said. “And I am sorry that you’ve been stuck in this crossfire. It is a shame. I meant for your death to be painless.”

 

"I don’t understand –” Dakota started, but she was cut off.

 

“Of course you don’t understand!” James shouted. “You and your father with your heads in the clouds, what have you ever understood! I did all of this! I am smarter than your father will ever be. I found the pathetic group of men called the Soul Stealers and I put them to work. I gave them one hundred thousand dollars to kill your father the first time, but I knew they would fail; a bunch of meth-addicted morons. I told your father to hire Scarred Angels. I couldn’t believe when he did it. A bunch of unqualified bikers driving around one of the richest women in the world, who could ever imagine such a thing. But I recommended it and your father agreed. The attack at the house was another plant, another Soul Stealer idiot. I knew he would fail.

 

After that, after the dust had settled and the investigation was done, I put Charlie in charge of the Soul Stealers and you and your father were both meant to die from natural causes – your father in an accident on his way home from the hospital and you, dear Dakota, were going to tragically fall to your death from a parking garage roof. ‘She was chasing a party,’ the tabloids would say. Everyone would be very embarrassed for you and the investigation would be light, as to save your post-mortem reputation.

 

But I will admit, Scarred Angels has been more impressive than I initially thought. I had expected them to be as dumb as the Soul Stealers. But they’ve been shockingly competent. Not that it matters. You see, we’ve planned everything, Charlie and I-” James stopped speaking as they listened to the voice that was shouting at them through a megaphone.

 

“Release your hostages, if they come to us unharmed, we’ll let you leave. But if you don’t, this will be a firefight you can’t win. Any Soul Stealers who values his life will come out now with their hands up, and we will let you leave, unharmed.” It was Adam. Dakota knew his voice and her heart swelled when she realized that he was going to save her, too.

 

“Never mind them. Where was I? Ah yes, Scarred Angels’s shocking competence. I knew I needed to drive a wedge between you and them, and what better way than by using one of their own as bait? Now there will be a terrible firefight. Scarred Angels and the Soul Stealers will kill each other. Whoever doesn’t die will be arrested, and I will leave. None of them know it was me and none of them ever will. You, my dear Dakota, will sadly die, trapped in the crossfire. What was sweet Dakota Kane doing in Echo Lane in a biker gang’s headquarters? People will ask. But I’ve already started the rumors of a relationship between you and Adam Mendel. People will think you were a foolish girl who got in over her head, which is accurate,” James finished, a disgusting smirk covering his face.

 

“But why?” Dakota asked. “My father loves you like a brother. He trusts you. He made you my godfather. All he’s ever done is supported you. How could you do this to him, to us?”

 

“Do you know what it’s like to not be born into wealth? To be born poor with no connections? Can you even imagine how much harder I had to work than your father? Yes, we were friends in school, and your father introduced me to a great deal of his wealthy friends, and every one of them looked down on me, called my blood weak like we were living in a medieval village. Each one of them has started a business and failed, most of them several times, each time their daddies would open their checkbooks and bail them out. Well I don’t have a rich father who can solve all of my problems for me; I’ve had to work, to scrape, for everything I have!

 

Tritronic Electrics was my dream! I started the money; I leveraged everything I had for it. I worked to the bone and it should have worked. It should have worked! I did everything right, everything! And still it was failing. Your father came to me and offered to buy me out of the company. He came to me as if it was a favor, and like I was a drowning man and he had come with a lifeboat. It killed me inside, Dakota. But I took the offer, and what did you dear old dad do next? He turned the Tritonic Electrics around, miraculously. Now my company is just another jewel in his crown.”

 

“He made you rich with that offer. He saved your company,” Dakota said.

 

“He saved it for himself! And he made me rich, but my riches were nothing compared to his. He just waved his hand and spent his ancestors’ money and expected me to kiss his boot in thanks.”

 

“He never wanted you to kiss his boot,” Dakota spit. “He was trying to help you-” But she was cut off as bullets were fired on the other side of the door and men were shouting to each other. For a moment in the room, no one moved, all staring at the door, wondering who was winning, and who was losing.

 

But so quickly, the noise was over.

 

“What’s the plan if the Soul Stealers lose?” James whispered to Charlie. He had his back to the other man, and was staring at the door.

 

“Yeah,” Charlie said, raising his gun and aiming it at the back of James' head, “about that.”

 

“No!” Dakota screamed and she launched herself at Charlie, knocking the man over. But it didn’t matter; a single shot had been fired. It had slammed James Hastings forward and splintered the door. Dakota turned and saw her godfather slump down face-first into a puddle of blood.

 

“Get off me, bitch,” Charlie said, shoving Dakota and pointing the gun at her.

 

Dakota scrambled back, and that was when Joey stood and pulling a short blade from inside his pocket, jamming it into the other man’s side and grabbing the gun in one swift motion. Charlie screamed out in pain and fell to the floor, leaving Joey standing over him with a thin blade in his left hand.

 

“Is it over?” Dakota asked, staring stunned at the violence and bloodshed around them.

 

“Yeah, it’s over,” Joey said as the white door was kicked in, and Adam ran into the room, his gun drawn.

 

It took one ferocious kick from Adam, and then it was done. The door crashed down and he raced into the small room, and then stopped as he saw the chaos that waited inside. Two men struggled on the floor; Joey standing over them both with a knife, and Dakota slumped on the floor. Everything was covered in blood and Adam couldn’t tell where it had come from, who was bleeding.

 

“I’m okay and she’s okay,” Joey said, as his entire body sagged. There was a dull clatter as the thin blade he had snuck away from the Soul Stealers fell to the floor. He staggered and leaned against a wall and Mike and Ronnie rushed in, supporting him between their arms and taking him outside.

 

“Someone should call an ambulance,” Dakota said as she stood shakily to her feet. Adam looked at her stunned. Her clothes were splattered with blood, she was pale, but she didn’t look weak or scared; she looked brave and strong.

 

Adam nodded and then he couldn’t stop himself. In two steps he was on her, wrapping his arms around her, enveloping her in his strong embrace. He held her tight against his chest and he felt her body go weak beneath him as she muffled a sob into his shirt and when she began to shake, he only held her tighter.

 

“It was James,” she whispered.

 

For a moment Adam was confused, who was James, what was she talking about? From behind him he heard a grunt, still holding Dakota Adam turned and looked down. One of the men grunted and half sat up, holding his side where blood was pouring out. It took him a moment to recognize the handsome face and the perfect suit underneath the mess. But yes, there he was, James Hastings. The man who had told Adam he should never contact Dakota again. It had been him, the man who had hired Scarred Angels. James had been behind all of the attacks, everything that had happened. In a twisted way, it made perfect sense; no one was going to question the man who had hired the protection, the one who seemed so kind and caring.

 

“Take them out, clear the building, and call an ambulance,” Adam instructed as members of Scarred Angels roughly took the men by their arms and pulled them out of the room, ignoring their cries of pain. “You, too,” he whispered to Dakota, kissing the top of her head. She nodded and pulled herself away, hastily wiping the tears from her face. “You didn’t need to do this,” Adam continued. “You didn’t need to come here and pay for Joey’s release. I never would have hurt you or your father, and neither would anyone in Scarred Angels. They were mad, but they shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

 

“I know,” Dakota said with a nod. “I just wanted it to be over.”

 

“It’s over now,” Adam said, putting his hand on the small of her back and guiding her out of the room and out into the parking lot. The bikes were still a wall of light and the Soul Stealers were still hogtied on the ground in front of the building.

 

“Everyone’s out, boss,” Adam heard someone say and he nodded as he walked over to Joey, whose bruised and battered face somehow looked even worse than the picture.

 

“You look awful,” Adam said to his oldest friend.

 

“Really?” Joey responded. “I feel great. Let’s hit the town, make it an all-nighter,” he said, swaying on his feet.

 

“An ambulance and cops are on the way. They’ll be here in fifteen,” someone said.

 

“Let’s do this then. You get the honors,” Adam said to Joey.

 

Together, Adam, Joey and the members of Scarred Angels poured gas over the building, while other cleared the area around the building. The bikers and their hostages travelled farther down the lane, away from the clubhouse. In the end, it was only Dakota, Adam, and Joey standing in the gasoline soaked clubhouse of the Soul Stealers. It was as dilapidated and sad as ever, and no one regretted what was about to happen.

 

They walked out to the front porch and then down to the gravel walkway. Adam handed Joey a pack of matches. Without hesitation Joey lit the pack and tossed it into the clubhouse. The flame sat there for a moment, burning away, and then it caught the gasoline and the group watched as the flame spread from the floors to the walls to roof and then the entire building was aflame as they turned and walked away.

 

“Shame about that building,” Joey said. “Going up in flames for no reason.”

 

“It definitely wasn’t up to code,” Dakota said as her hand found Adam’s and together she and Joey filled him in on James's plan and Charlie’s place in it. Adam couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe the selfishness of a man like James Hasting. The Kanes had saved his company, and out of jealousy had tried to have them killed.

 

By the time they reached the rest of the gang farther down the dirt road they could hear the cry of ambulances and police sirens and soon enough the howl of a fire truck. Adam sent the members of Scarred Angels home, all but Joey and Bill, who were sitting next to each other on the ground comparing wounds.

 

“I’m so sorry I got you shot,” Dakota said to Bill, kneeling down next to him.

 

“Actually, it sounds like you saved my life,” Bill said. “According to Joey, that man was aiming at James Hastings’ head, which is at the same level as my head. It would have been a kill shot had you not tackled him like a linebacker.”

 

Adam watched as Dakota gave her uncle a grateful smile. True or not, it made her feel better and Adam was again surprised by his uncle’s kindness. As the police and ambulances travelled down the lane Adam reached down and ran his hands over Dakota’s back.

 

“Can we go back to your house now?” she asked, looking at him with those beautiful eyes of hers.

 

“Of course,” he answered, taking her hand in his.

 

“You came to Echo Lane alone?” Dakota must have heard that questions a thousand times as she watched the club headquarters of the Soul Stealers burn down to nothing.

 

“Yes,” she answered with a sigh. “They had taken a friend hostage. I had come to pay the ransom.” She told her story a thousand different ways. The only lie she told that night was about the burning of the clubhouse. “No idea what happened. It just lit up. Somebody must have been careless with a cigarette, or something.” Fortunately, no one seemed too interested in the details of the fire. Another slum in Echo Lane burned to the ground, the sad reality of how the neighborhood was treated.

 

Eventually she and Adam were told they could leave. The members of the Soul Stealers were untied, rounded up, and taken into custody. Over half of them had outstanding warrants for everything from late child support to attempted murder. Her clothes reeked of smoke from the fire and Dakota was sure she had never felt this tired before.

 

Standing by her car, she watched as Adam shook Detective Evans’ hand. He looked so strong and confident, like a general who had been victorious in that day’s battle, not a single man lost. He was like no one Dakota had ever met, or ever would meet again. Now, all she had to do was make sure nothing came between them ever again.

 

“Bill and Joey are at the hospital,” Adam said as he walked over to her. “Nothing too serious; they should be able to go home tomorrow.”

 

“I’m so glad,” Dakota said with a sigh. “I don’t know how I would live with myself if something happened to them.”

 

“Hey,” Adam said, tilting her chin up so she was forced to look him in the eye. “None of this was your fault. None of it.” She nodded and smiled, but she couldn’t quite believe him. Her wealth brought her so much: a lovely house, the world’s best education, travel, everything; but it came with its own cost. She would always be a target; there would always be people who hated her because of her family’s money. All she could do was surround herself with people who loved her for who she was, people who would fight for her, who would travel to Echo Lane with an army for her.

 

That night, Dakota drove to Adam’s house with Adam on his bike following her. It reminded her of the time he had caught her roughing up a teddy bear outside the Kane Home for Young Boys. Just like that night, he travelled behind her, occasionally driving beside her when the road opened to two lanes. She watched him in her rearview mirror, wondering how she had ever resented his presence. Now she never wanted to be parted from him ever again.

 

It was near four in the morning when they finally reached home. Dakota managed to stagger into the house and up the stairs, already feeling so familiar in his home. She stripped off her filthy clothes and watched as Adam did the same. Together they ran a hot shower and let the warm water wash away everything that had happened to them. They cleaned each other, washing each other’s hair, running soap up and down their tired bodies. Finally, once clean, they collapsed into bed together, falling asleep almost the moment their heads hit the pillow.

 

It was one in the afternoon when Dakota woke to the sensation of strong hands running up and down her back and squeezing her backside. She smiled into the pillow, but otherwise didn’t move. She enjoyed his touch too much to interrupt it. His warm hands made her skin tremble and, finally, she couldn’t stop a pleasant sigh from escaping her lips.

 

She turned over onto her back and looked at Adam in the bed next to her. His hair was messy and his beard had grown thicker; how long had it been since he last shaved? She wondered. She reached out with her hand and stroked his cheek, letting her fingers play in the stubble.

 

“Good afternoon,” he said.

 

“Afternoon? What time is it?” Dakota asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

 

“A little after one,” Adam answered as his hands resumed the exploration of her body. He ran them up and down her thighs, over her stomach, tracing the outline of her breast, and coming up to caress her cheek.

 

“After college I promised myself no more sleeping into the afternoon.”

 

“I think, after last night, we can make an exception,” Adam said.

 

Dakota half sat up and took a drink from the bottle of water on the nightstand. She stretched out her arms once before snuggling back down into the bed. She was still exhausted; she was ready to sleep for years. But Adam’s hands, travelling up and down her body were becoming preferable to sleep. She couldn’t help but move her body to accommodate him, to give him better access to all the places she wanted him to touch.

 

It felt right to be in this bed with him. She had only been in his house a few times, but already she was so familiar with it. She knew the way the light hit the windows and what his sheets smelled like. These things had become familiar to her in such a short amount of time.

 

Adam pulled himself up, so he was leaning on his elbow, his face hovering above hers, and he leaned down and kissed her, his tongue slipping into her mouth as his hand squeezed her breast. Dakota pushed up against him. She had missed his touch, had been worried that she would never feel it again. But here she was, in his bed, and he wanted her more than ever.

 

Adam leaned over and kissed her neck, holding her shoulders and pulling her closer. The scruff on his neck scratched pleasantly against the sensitive skin and Dakota moaned in pleasure as his tongue swiped across her skin. He nibbled his way down her neck and brought his mouth to her nipple, sucking and biting as Dakota ran her hands through his hair. She was wearing a t-shirt and nothing else and Adam easily slipped it off of her. His hands slowly travelled from one breast to another, the light touch of his fingers giving her goosebumps as she closed her eyes and sighed. He brought his lips down to her breast and kissed them delicately, running his tongue over her nipples and then biting down gently causing her to gasp.

 

His left hand travelled farther down and found that space between her legs. He teased the delicate skin of the inside of her thighs and ran his fingers over her folds, teasing her. Dakota couldn’t help but move her hips, encouraging his touch to go deeper. He brought his head up from her breast and kissed her deeply as his fingers separated her and slipped inside. His fingers moved inside of her, finding her nub and stroking it gently.

 

“Yes,” Dakota whispered. Her eyes were closed; her entire body was focused on his touch, on the movement of his fingers inside of her. But his touch was light and teasing, his fingers at times barely touching her at all, driving her wild. She moved her hips against him and kissed him deeply, begging him for more.

 

Finally she couldn’t take it anymore and she sat up, gently, pushing him down onto the bed. She ran her hands down to his boxers and felt the length and girth of his erection. He moaned as her fingers teased him, running up and down his shaft, toying with the tip. Then she threw one leg over him, straddling him and she leaned down to kiss him as her hips began to move up and down, his erection, still trapped beneath his boxers grazing against her and she shuddered from the sensation.

 

She began to grind herself against him, kissing him deeply, her body moving on its own accord. Now it was Adam’s turn to be teased and he grabbed her hips and her ass, encouraging her to press harder against him as he moaned her name into her shoulder.

 

“I want you,” he whispered to her. “I want to be inside of you.”

 

“Yes,” Dakota responded and she moved off of him, her fingers finding the waistband of his boxers as she pulled them off of him and tossed them in a corner. She straddled him again. This time, she held his cock and guided it inside of her, gasping as her body stretched to accommodate him. His hands were on her lower back and grabbing her ass, pushing and pulling her as Dakota began to move on top of him, feeling the length of him as she moved.

 

She was already wet for him and as she moved she felt her passion grow inside of her. Adam held on to her tightly, pulling her down so their bodies were pressed together. She buried her face in his shoulder as her hips continued to thrust against him. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, Adam, yes.” His grip on her back grew tighter as she heard him release a groan and his thrust grew harder and deeper. Dakota pushed back against him as she felt her orgasm grow so great inside of her that she wasn’t sure she could take much more. But she couldn’t stop either. She felt him thrust deep inside of her and she could not stop from crying out. She was so close, moving with him, their bodies in perfect harmony as she lost control as her body pushed and pulled against him desperate for that release only he could give.

 

She cried out loudly as she grew closer, her entire body feeling like it was made of flames, and Adam was holding onto her tightly as her pleasure began to consume her. With one last thrust, Dakota felt herself pushed over the edge. Her orgasm took control of her body and she heard Adam cry out and she shuddered and shook as her orgasm ripped through her. She felt herself finish until finally she lay on top of him, exhausted, but satisfied.

 

After a few moments, Dakota pulled herself off Adam and collapsed next to him, both out of breath from what had just happened. He felt his hand find hers and squeeze it and she turned her head to smile at him.

 

“Hey,” he said, her hand still in his. “Last night, I realized something.”

 

“What was that?” Dakota asked.

 

“I love you,” he answered. “Somewhere in that fight last night, I realized it. I love you. I want to be with you.”

 

Dakota sat up and looked at him, a smile stretching across her face. “I love you, too.”

 

“Coffee?” Adam whispered to Dakota. He could feel himself drifting off again and he needed to be awake.

 

“Yes, please,” she whispered. Her eyes were closed, too, and he knew she was just as tired as he was.

 

“Don’t move,” Adam whispered. He pulled on sweatpants and a shirt and went downstairs to brew a pot of coffee, returning a few minutes later with two steaming cups. Dakota was sitting up, resting against the headboard. She was still undressed, with a blanket covering her chest. Adam smiled as he handed her the cup and sat down in bed next to her, her head falling on his shoulder.

 

“You know, you’ve never actually asked me out.” Dakota said. “And, yet, here I am lying in your bed.”

 

“I supposed I did forget what with all the chaos and murder attempts,” Adam said. “So, hey...you doing anything later this week? Maybe we could meet up at his club I own.”

 

“Ugh,” Dakota said with a laugh. “I would never have agreed to that.”

 

“Good to know,” Adam said.

 

A silence fell between them, a silence Adam knew he had to fill. There was a weight on his shoulders and his heart, the weight of everything not said to Dakota. She had some idea of what he was and what he had done, but she deserved the truth. After everything that had happened, she was owed that. But the thought of saying it, of speaking it out loud, was too much.

 

“I want to tell you something, something very few people know,” Adam said, unable to look at her. “It’s not something I like to talk about, but there’s a lot I want to tell you, and this is the first thing.” But then he stopped. The words wouldn’t come.

 

“You can tell me anything,” Dakota said, taking his hand and looking into his eyes.

 

“When I was seven, my parents were arrested for making and selling meth,” Adam started, letting the words tumble from his mouth. “I was taken from them and placed in the Kane Home for Young Boys.” Adam heard Dakota gasped and her hand squeezed his. “I lived there for a year and a half. Uncle Bill was still in jail, but he promised when he got out he would get a job and would take custody of me. I lived at the house until his parole was approved.”

 

“Oh, Adam, I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. It really wasn’t that bad of a place. The people were nice, the food was good, and you never had to worry about the heat being turned off in the winter. It’s a good thing you do there. It probably saved my life. I didn’t have to be put into foster care, I didn’t get moved around, and I got to wait in one place for my uncle to get out. I’ll always be grateful for that.”

 

Dakota looked at him and smiled, nodding, but saying nothing else. Just letting him speak.

 

“We used to talk about you, about the Kanes. We used to joke about mansions and ponies. How one day we were gonna go and take it over. We were gonna knock out all the windows and turn your mansion into one giant fort. It was strange how mad we were at your family. It was just...we couldn’t blame our own parents. We were too young, you know? We still thought they were the sun and the moon, so we hated the people who saved us instead. No one knows about the Kane Home for Young Boys. No one in the club, not even Joey. Only Uncle Bill knows.”

 

“You know you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, right? It wasn’t your fault.”

 

“I know, but I can’t be viewed as weak.”

 

“You’re not weak. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You were a child when it happened. You were allowed to be weak then, and you're allowed to show weakness now.”

 

Adam nodded, and kept talking. His words were unstoppable. He told her everything. His work moving drugs, his work finding people and turning them over to the men they had angered or betrayed. He told her about watching men being beaten nearly to death, to helping bad people do bad things.

 

It had hurt him, having to do those things. But for the longest time he thought it was the only way. Scarred Angels was a biker gang; that was what biker gangs did. For years he had nightmares about the cost of what he did, the collateral damages of his actions. It was killing him, destroying his soul. It was Adam who had pushed for Scarred Angels to go legit, who had spent years searching for the avenue that would pull them out of the world of guns and drugs and violence.

 

At the end of everything, when Adam had said all that he could at that moment, he looked at Dakota, afraid of what her response would be. When he turned to look at her, all he saw were her large brown eyes looking up at him.

 

She put her hand on his shoulder and said, “It’s okay,” and then she kissed him lightly. “I still love you, and I always will.”

 

And now here he was, in the house he owned, with a beautiful woman in his bed. Everything that had ever happened to him was all meant for this, all led to this. Everything he had seen and done had brought him inch-by-inch closer to Dakota Kane. She was a woman who was kind and gentle and generous, a woman who could see past what he had done to the man he had become. She had seen all of his flaws and told him she loved him just the same. Everything he had ever done had turned him into a man she could love. And now that he had said it all out loud, he knew he wouldn’t go back and change it for anything. It was his life. It had started out badly, but he had turned it into something good. He had taken every bad thing he had ever done and used it to himself into someone who did good. He was finally who he always wanted to be.