Chapter Fourteen
Zach, Copper, and Rocket burst through the double doors leading to the bustling Emergency Department of the University of Tennessee Medical Center. Copper had sent the rest of the members back to the clubhouse to lock it down until the threat was identified and neutralized. Ol’ ladies, club girls, everyone would be holed up at the clubhouse until further notice.
Each second of the forty-five-minute ride to the hospital felt like slow torture. Like Zach was being dragged along the blacktop behind Copper’s bike instead of riding hot on his prez’s heels.
UTMC wasn’t the closest hospital. No, that would be Blount Memorial Hospital, so the fact that Little Jack had been airlifted to UTMC could only mean one thing; he was in a bad fuckin’ way. LJ was a beast of man who worked out in Zach’s gym daily. Hell, the prospect even coached two boxers who were quickly making names for themselves.
Whatever had taken him down was big and bad. And it would be the beginning of the shitstorm from hell for whoever attacked him.
“Looking for Jack Ulrich, darlin’,” Copper said to the gaping receptionist. “He was brought in by chopper over an hour ago.” He flashed her a dazzling grin that didn’t meet his stormy eyes.
“Um, sure. Let me just, ah…” The middle-aged receptionist’s fingers trembled as she fumbled them over her keyboard, having to backspace at least three times before entering the name correctly.
Somehow, Copper managed to remain calm and cool, still flashing her that I’m-not-as-dangerous-as-I-look smile. Which was true. He wasn’t as dangerous as he looked.
He was ten times more dangerous.
As the seconds ticked by, Zach blew out a breath and stared at the ceiling. Anything to distract himself from the urge to vault over the desk and shake the woman until she moved faster. One of the many reasons Copper was the solid leader he was, while Zach never stood a chance at the position. Copper could be having his toenails yanked out and no one would know it by his facial expression.
“Room eight, it’s down the hall on the le—”
The three of them stormed down the hall boots pounding on the white tile floor. “Here,” Zach said, skidding to a stop outside a room with an eight placard sticking out from the door frame. He shouldered the door open and came to a dead stop.
“Fuck me hard,” Rocket swore under his breath.
Zach couldn’t have said it better himself. The supine man dwarfing the small hospital bed barely resembled the prospect Zach had seen almost every day for the past nine months. His right arm was propped on pillows and wrapped in what appeared to be miles of ace bandages. On the same side, his leg was splinted and elevated.
Then there was his face. The face Shell had once described as a baby face was varying shades of purple with one eye swollen so bad it looked like a near black bubble. Across his hairline, a jagged wound that had been stitched was visible against the light brown hair.
And those were the injuries they could see on first glance. Zach had no doubt under his hospital gown his torso would be a mess of painful bruising and probably broken ribs.
Copper walked to the head of the bed and gripped LJ’s uninjured hand. “Hey, brother, can you hear me?”
Zach moved to his other side, near his head. He needed to hear everything that was said. The motherfuckers who did this had no idea the hell they were about to have rain down on them.
“I’m sorry, Prez,” LJ whispered through lips so swollen they didn’t move when he spoke.
Both Zach and Copper leaned closer. “You did good, prospect. Viper told us they didn’t get the money.”
LJ had been on a run for Zach, collecting an almost eighty grand repayment owed by one of the very few clients who always paid on time. When Viper called Copper to let him know what happened, he’d mentioned all the money was still at the scene. Something must have spooked whoever went after LJ enough to make them flee without the cash.
“Not after—” LJ shook his head. “Water,” he rasped out.
“Here, man.” Zach snatched a paper cup off the bedside table and held the straw to LJ’s abused lips while Copper raised the head of his bed. It took a few tries for him to capture the straw, but after he finally caught it, he swallowed greedily.
“Thanks,” LJ said, his voice a smidge stronger. “They weren’t after the money.” He closed his puffy eye and shook his head. “Mav.” His voice choked up and Zach wouldn’t have believed it was possible, but LJ sounded near tears.
Copper frowned. “What about Mav?”
“I’m sorry. I fought like hell, but there were four of them. And they had crowbars. I didn’t stand a chance.” He sounded tortured, riddled with guilt and a tear leaked out the corner of one distended eye.
“What about Mav?” Copper asked, steel in his tone this time.
“They took him.”
Ice slid through Zach’s veins as the horror of that statement registered. “Mav was with you?” He was supposed to be on a job, installing a system of security cameras for an eccentric millionaire who owned a house high in the mountains where cell reception was hard to come by. It was the only reason Zach hadn’t tried to contact him.
“What the fuck do you mean they took him?” Copper growled.
“He got done early. Saw me riding and tagged along. Dragons—oh fuck.” He inhaled a sharp breath and cringed. “Sorry. Five fuckin’ cracked ribs.” After a cough and another grimace, he continued. “Three of them grabbed Mav. Tossed him in a van. Other four teamed up on me.”
“You sure it was the Gray Dragons?”
He nodded and his “yes” was full of agony. “Stupid fucking red tattoo on their hands.”
“You had anything for pain?” Copper asked.
“Nah,” LJ said. “Wanted to talk to you first.”
“You did good, LJ.” Copper pushed the nurse button on the side of LJ’s bed. “We’ll have them bring you something.” When Copper raised his head, his gaze bore into Zach’s.
Zach imagined the murderous fury in Copper’s eyes matched his own. “Go,” Copper said. “Take Rocket. I want you at the clubhouse at eight tonight.”
Zach nodded and placed a hand on LJ’s shoulder before making for the door. Rocket was ending a phone call he’d made as soon as LJ mentioned the Dragons. “Let’s go,” Zach said.
The two men marched down the hall on a deadly mission. “What do we know about where they might take him?”
“Nothing,” Rocket said in his typical limited chatter.
“Shit. You’ve had eyes on their headquarters, haven’t you?”
Rocket nodded.
“What have you been seeing?” In times like this, talking to Rocket could frustrate a man to violence.
“Nothin’. Ain’t been around much.” Rocket shook his head.
Shit. Mav had mentioned the same thing yesterday. That something wonky was going on with the Dragons. They’d all but abandoned their headquarters. No one coming or going for days.
What the hell was going on?
The club messed up. Hell, Zach messed up. It was his job to protect his club from outside threats. They’d gotten complacent, left the Gray Dragons alone without any fear of the Handlers. In his defense, there had never been any indication, until recently, that the Dragons might be looking to up their game.
Christ, he’d sent LJ to make the pickup in his place so he could go flirt with Toni at the diner. Fuck! Where the hell were his priorities? Pussy was pussy and while fun, should never be a priority over his brothers. Look what happened when he took his eye off the game. One of his brothers was beaten unconscious and another kidnapped.
He needed to stay away from Toni. She was fucking with his head and his concentration.
The club’s mistake had been not flexing their muscles when Shark took over the gang a year ago. Rumors had been circulating about the man for ages. Sick shit he did to his girls. Even sicker shit he did to guys looking to leave the gang. Still, they hadn’t seen him for the predator he was turning out to be.
Big fucking mistake.
Because apparently, he was a shark in more than just name.
And now Mav was his prisoner.
“Shit!” Zach yelled when he reached the bikes. “Fuck!” He slammed his fists down on the trunk of a car parked next to him. Pain shot up his forearms and he welcomed the sharp jolt. Again and again, he pounded them into the denting metal. The shrill piercing of a car alarm blared through the quiet parking lot.
“Zach!” Rocket’s voice didn’t pull him from his rage. “Knock it the fuck off, brother.” A muscled arm banded across his chest and yanked him away from his punching bag. “You ain’t gonna be able to do shit for Mav if you’re locked up for the night.”
Hearing the long string of words from his typically silent friend was enough to snap Zach out of it and made him see past the rage clouding his vision. Rocket kept an arm around him and dragged Zach back ten feet.
Zach held out his hands. “I’m cool,” he said. “I’m cool.” He’d fake it, anyway, because inside he was anything but.
With a jerky nod, Rocket released him. “How do you want to play this?”
Zach propped his hands on his head and stared at the hospital building. “I can’t just sit around and wait until Shark contacts us with whatever the fuck he wants in exchange for Mav.”
“You sure he wants something?”
It was a chilling question. “I hope so.” If Shark didn’t want anything, if he took Mav simply because he wanted to, then Mav was in the worst kind of shit. Shark would torture him then kill him. Just to fuck with the Handlers. Just because he could.
Zach wasn’t willing to give up on his friend like that, so they’d operate under the assumption that Shark wanted something and was willing to snatch Mav for ransom.
Throwing his leg over his bike and dropping his sunglasses down over his eyes, Zach said, “Let’s hit the streets. Start talking to people. Someone’s bound to know where the fuck they might have taken Mav besides their headquarters.” After receiving a nod of agreement from Rocket, he revved the engine and shot out of the lot.
On the way back, he’d call Viper and have him hand out jobs. They needed all hands on deck to scour the dregs of Tennessee in search of information.
Mav would be tortured. There were no two ways around it. Somehow, Zach would have to wrap his mind around that conclusion and come to terms with it or he’d be useless to his club. Even though he wasn’t the biggest fucker in the club, Mav was strong, mentally and physically. He also had a smart mouth and would probably make things worse for himself by giving his captors lip.
But he’d survive.
And Zach would do whatever the fuck it took to get him out of there.
Six hours later, Zach and the rest of the Hell’s Handlers had spoken to every lowlife, criminal, junkie, and general asshole in a fifty-mile radius.
And they were no further along than they’d been when the day started.
All they heard was that the Dragons hadn’t been using their headquarters for the past week. But they’d already known that. No one had any clue if the gang owned any other property, and that fact had Zach’s gut screaming. Someone knew something. Of that he was sure, but they’d yet to find motivation big enough to get someone to rat on Shark.
Zach had even brought Louie out a few times. If a few well-placed whacks with a solid wood bat wasn’t enough to loosen some tongues, Shark’s threats must be severe. They’d get information out of somebody at some point; it was just a matter of picking the weakest link and finding out exactly what would make them cave.
Probably just what Shark did.
A sobering thought, but one Zach didn’t have time to dwell on, because every second wasted was another second Mav was suffering.
“So we’ve got jack shit?” Copper slammed a bottle of Johnnie Walker down before bracing his hands on the table. He loomed over the group, looking ready to tear the clubhouse apart with his bare hands. A feeling Zach was familiar with.
The question was for Zach, but suddenly he found himself unable to answer. Fear for Mav, fury over his ineffectiveness, and guilt for not keeping the club and his friends safe clogged his throat. He shook his head, unable to meet Copper’s gaze.
It was at that moment, Zach’s phone chirped in his pocket. Under normal circumstances, Copper would castrate any man who whipped out his phone during a meeting. Instead, he met Zach’s gaze and nodded.
A lead brick settled in Zach’s stomach as he drew out the phone. It was from Shark. He knew it without even looking, as sure as he knew he wanted to fuck Toni. Christ, it seemed like years ago he’d been angling to get in her pants. In reality a few short hours had shifted all his priorities. What he wouldn’t give to have her rejection be his biggest setback again.
Swallowing down the ice-cold dread, Zach unlocked his phone to find an image of his best friend staring back at him. He couldn’t help the wildly inappropriate snort of laughter that flew from him.
Mav was in bad shape as predicted. Two black eyes. Blood running from both his nose and mouth. Wrists and ankles tied to a chair. He was slumped over, as if it was too painful or required too much energy to sit straight.
But in typical Mav fashion, he had a big fuck you for the assholes who held him. A smirk as big as the Smoky Mountains themselves was on his face. Each fist was curled except for two middle fingers. They pointed toward the ground, since his forearms were bound to the chair and he couldn’t twist his arms for a proper gesture, but he still got the point across. And the best part was, the lackey of Shark’s that sent the photo hadn’t noticed. Otherwise, they’d never have sent it.
It was Maverick’s clever way of letting Zach know that while he was down, he was not out.
Nothing accompanied the photo. No ransom requests. No demands. Nothing. More and more this was looking like nothing more than a power play. Shark letting the Handlers know he could get at them whenever he wanted and there wasn’t a damn thing they could do about it.
Zach held the photo up for Copper to see.
His president’s face hardened and he bowed his head for a moment before saying, “Fuck.”
The weight of that word crashed down upon Zach like a sledgehammer. Copper was never without an idea. Never without confidence. Never defeated. He tried to inhale, but it felt as if a heavy rubber band had wound itself around his chest. With each passing second, it grew tighter and tighter until he couldn’t breathe.
Zach shoved back from the table and stumbled out of the meeting room. As he lurched past the bar, two of the Honeys tried to get his attention. He wasn’t even tempted, but normally he’d at least have said hello and let them down easy. Now, he just didn’t give a shit.
“Get the fuck out of my way,” he barked at Becky, who dropped her jaw and scurried behind the bar.
He didn’t care who he pissed off. All he knew was he needed out of the clubhouse. He needed oxygen.
Shoving through the door, he stumbled out into the quiet night. A cool breeze washed over him, loosening the grip of the rubber band and allowing him to draw in a breath.
“Fuck!” he yelled when he had enough air.
The panic that had been rushing through his system transformed into an anger so great he could think of nothing but wreaking havoc on whatever was near.
Balling his fists, he rammed them into the nearest tree again and again with no regard to the damage he was causing himself. The skin over his knuckles split and tore, but he welcomed the pain. It was nothing compared to what was in store for Maverick, and the sting only fueled his anger and need for blood.
When all his energy was spent, he was sweating and gasping for breath. He propped himself against the defeated tree and tried to get his head straight.
He had no idea how long he stood there before Copper walked up, liquor in hand.
“Better?” Copper asked, holding the bottle out.
Zach accepted the bottle and tipped it to his lips. After a good eight second guzzle, he handed it back to his prez. Blood ran in streams from his hands, coasting over the bottle and dripping to the grassy ground.
Copper wouldn’t give a shit. If there was ever a man not afraid of a little blood, it was Copper.
“Better.”
“I’m gonna say this one fucking time, Zach, so listen the fuck up.” Copper took a long drink. “I didn’t appoint you enforcer because I thought you’d be able to anticipate every problem that would come our way. I didn’t give you the position because I thought you would somehow know shit the rest of us didn’t.” He passed off the bottle then lit a cigarette. “I made you enforcer because this club is in your blood and you will rain holly hell down on anyone who fucks with it.”
That was the damn truth.
“So stop beating the fuck out of my trees and yourself because of some misplaced guilt. Save your fury for Shark.”
After another long drink, Zach tried to return the bottle, but Copper waved it away. “Finish it,” he said. The orange tip of his cigarette glowed as he returned it to his mouth.
“You know, Cop, Shell was at the diner when we tore out of there this morning.”
Copper grunted. “Feels like years ago.”
Zach swallowed the last eighth of the bottle in two large gulps. “She’s gonna be worried. Probably heard something about Mav by now. You should swing on by. Might want to warn her to be vigilant.”
“Yeah,” Copper said as he flicked ash off the end of his cigarette. He spoke as though it was no big deal. As though he wasn’t in love with the woman he refused to take. And as though it didn’t break her heart to be in the same room as him. “Both she and Toni are gonna be wondering why we had prospects tail them home.”
“She’s gonna get on your ass if you show up smelling like a tobacco factory.”
The cigarette was midway to Copper’s mouth. “What are you my mother now, Zach?” He tossed the thing to the grass and ground it under his size thirteen heel before walking halfway back inside. “Have Jig give you a ride home. You drank half that bottle.”
“I’ll have Jig drive me around and search a little longer.”
Copper nodded. “Make sure you get some rest at some point, brother. You’re no good to Mav if you can’t function.”
Alone again, Zach stared up at the starry sky. Heading home was the best thing. He was fried, half drunk, and not thinking clearly. He could hit it hard again in the morning. But he couldn’t do it. Not with Mav out there enduring fuck knew what. He’d give it another hour or two.
For a moment, he let himself wonder what it would be like to have a woman in his life for more than sex. Might be kind of nice after the day he’d had. To go home to a warm, soft woman he could lose himself in. A woman who’d let him use her body to drown out the horrors of the day.
Toni’s face came to mind. And Toni’s body came to mind.
It was then he recalled telling Toni he’d meet her on her porch to watch the sunset.
Shit. She was going to be pissed he bailed on her. Not that anything about the day was normal, but she wouldn’t appreciate it.
Still, he couldn’t help but indulge in the fantasy of having her waiting at home warm, wet, and his for the taking.