Chapter Fourteen
(Jaxson)
Beaten mercilessly, I climbed the three flights of stairs up to my apartment. Pain sliced through me with every step I took leaving me panting hard, groaning, and cursing the building’s maintenance people under my breath; the broken elevator had been out of order for the past three weeks. By the top flight of steps, the muscles in my legs were so sore and stiff I felt like I’d taken the place of a workhorse wading through deep water.
Hauling my weight up the final steps with my right hand gripped around the handrail, I finally took a breather the top of the stairwell. I wanted nothing more than to give in to the pull of sleep and collapse in exhaustion on my bed ‒ with Chloe draped across my chest where she belonged. I couldn’t talk to anyone in the shape I was in. I couldn’t really think straight with my injuries and my head throbbing.
The thought of Chloe shifted my focus back to how I’d left her. The last time I’d seen Chloe, I had abandoned the girl in favor of my club. I had abandoned the only girl I had ever loved at the time she needed me most. Chloe was deeply distressed when I left, her tears flowing down her cheeks; fear in her eyes, and pain in her heart. Distress, fear, and pain I was responsible for. I was responsible for everything. I prayed to god that she would eventually forgive me—although, I knew in my heart that I didn’t deserve it.
As I looked up toward the front door of my apartment directly opposite, my grimacing face instantly transformed as though hit with cold air. To my grave surprise, I noticed the door was ajar. Instinctively, I felt for my gun – preparing for the worst.
Shit! I thought as I remembered that I had dropped my gun in the mayhem of the night before, losing it in the darkness. In the aftermath, I had neglected to look for it.
I pressed on down the corridor. When I reached the door, I turned my body and put one ear up against it, listening for any sound inside.
Nothing.
Without a single clue as to why the door was open, I pushed it forward few inches further. I leaned toward the opening and poked my head inside. Stillness and not a sound. I scanned the open-plan lounge and dining area with my eyes, but I couldn’t see anyone. At first glance, there was no intruder, but there was also no Chloe. Seething anger caused my breathing to pick up and set my heart hammering in my chest.
As I staggered through the door, my body came to a sharp, alarmed halt. Able to survey the scene clearly, I stared in muted shock at the bathroom door that had been smashed down in clear view. Angst and anger gave way to flaming wrathful hate. If anyone had touched my Chloe, I would hunt the bastard down and take pleasure in watching him suffer.
Readying myself to fight any intruder that could still be hiding, I gently pushed the hall cabinet aside, making as little noise as possible. I pulled up a section of floorboard where it had stood to reveal a hole large enough for a metal box where I kept $50,000 in emergency cash and a stainless .38 revolver – my spare gun.
I snatched the gun and ammunition then eased the floorboard back down. As I loaded and cocked the gun, I dropped behind the hall cabinet for cover.
“Chloe? Are you here?” I shouted but got no response.
I advanced slowly through the apartment toward the bathroom, scanning my surroundings and looking into each room through the sight of my gun. As I passed the kitchen, I saw a smashed plate all over the floor, and a broken beer bottle to the side. If Chloe had been taken, she’d been gone since last night. I looked into my bedroom, which appeared unchanged since I’d left it.
When I reached the bathroom, I winced at the sight of the edge of the sink and toilet seat that was splattered with blood. I had never had a problem with blood but what it implied here scared the hell out of me—Chloe was injured, taken, and worst of all, I didn’t have a clue who the fucker was that had kidnapped her. Bitter hatred and remorse were the only feelings that made sense. I wanted to tear whoever did this apart.
I was sure Chloe had been gone hours. I only hoped I would be able to find her in time. Regardless, I had to call Bruno. I had to confess that I had let Bruno down, and he had to know what had happened to his shipment of whiskey before I could try to figure out who had my girl. If I didn’t tell Bruno the truth ASAP, my odds of him keeping me alive long enough to explain – let alone long enough to track down Chloe – would be next to nothing.
I sighed and lowered my gun. I slid my mobile-phone out of my jean pocket, only to realize it was still out of battery from the previous night. I plugged it to charge in the living room and called Bruno’s mobile from my landline. As I waited fearfully for him to pick up, I – for the first time in my life – considered calling the cops to help bring Chloe back. Even though it went entirely against the man I was and the world to which I belonged, I wondered whether the police would do a better job at finding her alive than I could. But getting involved the law would threaten the very world I knew and had worked so hard to protect. I couldn’t cause shit for myself, my brothers, and my club like that. I knew it would be something even Chloe’s father would have been against.
The sound of Bruno’s phone picked up interrupted my thoughts. “Bruno?” I said.
“Yeah,” he answered, casually.
“It’s Jax. There…There’s been an incident.”
“I know, Jax. My security guard down at the Marina building was shot dead last night. What the fuck happened? And why are you calling me so late in the morning? It’s 11:30 am!” He voice was firm and disagreeable.
“Frank, our helmsman, is dead too,” I added.
“Oy vey.” He let out a heavy sigh into the phone.
“And…” I took a breath. “The whiskey is gone too,”
“What whiskey? You watched the last shipment leave the docks, didn’t you?” he asked, sounding slightly panicked.
“Well… Frank had to wait a while for the harbor to clear; a couple of boats were pulling out real slow and—”
Bruno interrupted. “You fucking rode off and left there. Where the hell is my 200-grand’-worth of inventory, Jax? Where’s my fucking whiskey?” His voice had risen to a threat.
“I—I don’t know.” I stammered.
“You don’t know? That’s all you’ve got for me? You mean to say you have been MIA nearly all morning, only to finally call just to tell me you don’t know anything?” Bruno barked down the phone, and I heard his fist thud down on his wooden desk.
It killed me inside that I let Bruno down. I had worked relentlessly the past ten years, defending against a moment like this ever happening. The man was my hero, my mentor, and the closest thing I ever had to a father.
With tears in my eyes, I tried to explain, “Bruno, l-last night.” I cleared my throat and blinked my eyes hard. I couldn’t let him think I had turned soft, as well as having failed him. “Frank texted me about seven o’clock, and I raced down to the docks like lightning. I thought I could handle it. Never imagined I would find that we’d been ambushed. After ten years of smooth business, I don’t see what would be special about this shipment compared to the rest. Nobody had dared try to mess with your setup before. Not ever!” I said, emphatically.
“Just tell me what happened, Jax?” Bruno asked, sternly.
“When I got to the docks, I saw about ten guys loading trucks with our whiskey right off the boat. It was dark out, and the men wore all-black from head to toe. They were big men – with prison type physiques. Four guards stood watch, laden with weapons. There was another man, I think he was their leader, but I never got a look at his face. It looked like he was overseeing the entire operation, but he was too far away and too heavily guarded for me to get at him. It looked like a real professional job. I mean, these guys were hard-core hijackers,” I ranted.
Bruno blew out a frustrated breath. “Go on,” he said… his words pitiless.
“I did everything I could, Bruno, but the trucks were nearly loaded when I got there, and I was outnumbered. I had to keep myself alive. I killed some of them and was beaten unconscious that’s why I’m so late calling. I just woke up. I fucked up, Bruno. I should have stayed until the shipment left the port. It was my mistake, nobody else’s. I’m sorry, Boss,” I said, getting noticeably chocked up.
Bruno gave a long, difficult exhale. “Jesus Christ.”
I spoke again before he could say another word, “I promise you this, Bruno, your money will be returned to you in the long run. I’ll make sure of it.”
Seemingly ignoring my appeal for forgiveness Bruno responded with, “What I want from you now, is all the information you have on the incident. I want to know everything you did and everything you saw emailed to me by 3-o-clock. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Boss…And…I’m assuming the incident will have consequences for those responsible.”
Moments passed before Bruno took a conflicted breath. “It’s quite simple. So let me put it to you this way. The outcome for any man who causes loss to me or my club is in no way personal. You know I have great affection for you Jax, you’re an honorable man. The vote is tomorrow. If you become president, you will hold immense power in your hands, Jaxson. A club’s destiny. The fate of your brothers and their future. It is not to be taken lightly. Until then, I reserve judgment.”
“Promise me one thing, Bruno. Promise me that you won’t punish my brothers for this. I caused this shit, and I’ll pay the price. Whatever you decide… the outcome lands on me.”
“I’m a man of my word, Jax,” Bruno replied.
With that, the call cut out.
I buried my head in my hands and wiped the sweat from my forehead. I shut my eyes for a couple of minutes; telling myself that I couldn’t afford to lose grip. Chloe needed me, and my club needed me. When I sat up again and dropped my hands from my face, I noticed that my hands were red with blood.
I stood up from the couch, walking toward the bathroom to shower off my dirty and bloody body. About halfway between the sofa and the doorway to the bathroom, something metallic on the carpet caught my eye. I picked it up between my thumb and forefinger. A bullet. The shell of a gleaming, flesh-piercing bullet.
I rolled the bullet shell between my fingers and examined it with a practiced eye. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The empty bullet was from a pistol that was rare they come ‒ a Colt 45. Sovereign ‒ the very gun Bruno had given me three years ago when I became vice-president of the Black Devils. The very gun I had lost back at the docks the night before. Like every one of mine and Bruno’s bullets, this shell was engraved with the shape of an eagle. Unmistakably, this was a bullet shot from my gun. Stolen and shot by the bastard who’d taken my Chloe. Whoever had taken her had been at the docks last night.
This is bullshit. The whole rap was a fucking setup.
Following my curiosity, I carried on toward the bathroom. I picked up the ruptured steel handle that lay on the floor just outside the doorframe to inspect it. It had entirely fallen away from the wood of the smashed up door. The handle sported one shiny bullet induced dent in the front. The bullet shell I was holding must have ricocheted across the room.
I stepped into the bathroom and washed my face and arms at the sink, being careful to avoid the blood on the right hand side of the basin. Blood washed off my body and swirled down the sink. When I reached for the hand towel, I noticed Chloe’s phone lying in the bathtub – smashed into several pieces.
Leaving the bathroom, I headed to my bedroom to check on my charging phone. It was now reasonably charged and had flashed back to life. I wiped off my wet hands on my bath towel that sat on the radiator in my room and clicked my phone to unlock it. Then I saw the message. A message from Chloe! It read, BLOODS TAKEN.
Fuck! A foreboding feeling churned in my gut.
I balled my hand into a tight fist around the bullet, and my jaw clenched. I was sure that someone wanted to break me. Someone had wanted to kill me last night. Someone had a reason to kill me. My gut said that reason was the key to everything. I’d suspected Antonio, but now the Bloods were involved.
I knew the Bloods had been here, but I didn’t know where their hideout or club compound was. But I sure as hell was going to find out. I had learned my lesson the hard way last night. I needed backup and texted Dino to meet me over at Mandy’s Diner as soon as he could.
Pulling out some fresh clothes and tossing them onto my bed, I sat down on the foot of it to put on my socks. I looked at my broken-reflection staring back me in the bedroom mirror. I was a bruised and swollen mess. My torn clothes looked more like those of a homeless man. The front of my shirt cut open and stained with blood, a slash down my chest and another large gash ran across the side of my face, my hair dishevelled. I tossed my bloodied shirt and stuck on a quick bandage around the gash on my arm. But it wasn’t just my ugly wounds that I despised. I hated myself so much it was torture even to look my own reflection. A woman like Chloe and a monster like me didn’t even belong in the same town, let alone the same bed.
I threw on a fresh pair of jeans and a shirt, feeling completely naked leaving the apartment without my biker’s jacket. That jacket was sacred to me. And that too, had disappeared at the docks. When I finally lumbered my body downstairs and out of the building, I got onto my bike and took a breath. The muscles in my body felt too spent for any kind of defense. But I’d never surrender. I cranked the engine to the beautiful sound of the beast roaring alive, and I tore out of the parking lot and down the highway under an angry looking sky.
When I reached Mandy’s Diner, Dino’s bike wasn’t outside yet. I tossed the cigarette butt on the ground, and walked over to the entrance; my body felt even heavier now with the weight of the conservation I was about to have with Chloe’s mom.
Through the glass exterior of the building, I could see the place wasn’t too busy. Sheila, Chloe’s mom, stood behind the counter waiting to take orders from new customers.
Her eyebrows rose, and her face lit up in surprise as she saw me opening the door to the joint. “Jaxson! Oh, honey, it’s so lovely to see you. Did you bring Chloe down here too?” she asked in a chirpy tone as she craned her head over my shoulder, left and right, looking for Chloe.
“No. Not today,” I replied as I approached the counter.
When I got up close to Sheila, her happy expression dropped when saw the gash and bruising on my face.
I leaned across the counter. “Mrs. Mariano…. Can we step out back for a few minutes?” I asked.
“Jax. What’s wrong? What happened to your face? You’re all beat up,” she said with concern.
“Not here. We should talk, Sheila. Alone,” I said, keeping my voice calm.
“Sure.” She nodded with a nervous smile, as she led me into a back room behind the counter.
In the back room, I sat her down and looked at the ground, unable to meet her eyes. “It’s Chloe,” I said.
“What?”
I glanced up at her as a crease formed between her brows and her eyes rounded with fear.
“Did you—I-I. Don’t suppose you got a call or text from Chloe last night?”
“A text? No, nothing. She has been sending me a message to say she’s okay before bed, but nothing last night. Why? What’s happened Jax?”
“She’s—she’s been taken,” I stated bluntly.
She put her elbows on the desk beside her and ducked her head with her hands over her ears. “No. No. No. Do you know where she is? Who’s got her?” Sheila still didn’t look at me, and I could just barely look at her.
“I’ll bring her back. I promise you, Sheila. I’ve got an idea of who did it. And I’m about to find out where they have taken her.” I leaned down to her and took hold of both her hands. I bowed my head in respect and kissed them. When we met each other’s eyes, the pair of us had tears welling up.
Sheila stood up to get air into her lungs and pulled her long blonde hair back out of her face. My eyes grew wide at the sight of the dark bruise that had been hidden at the back of her jaw. She’d tried to conceal it under a thick mask makeup. But I’d seen it all before from Antonio’s girls.
Holy shit. Not a-fucking-gain. It was no time to be changing the subject, but if this woman was in danger, I needed to know about it.
“Sheila, your face,” I said, as my instincts barked loudly in my head to find and kill that bastard, Roy, for having beat Chloe and her mother like goddamn animals. I knew it had to be him.
“Umm—well, I-I walked into a—it was an accident,” she stuttered. Sheila was terrified and breathing heavily.
“Don’t lie to me, Sheila. Who did it?” I asked, firmly.
She stared at me but didn’t say a word
“It was the son-of-a-bitch again, wasn’t it?” I hardly needed to ask. He’d hit her before, and he’d done the same to Chloe.
Still, Sheila shook her head. “It’s nothing. I can handle it,” she insisted.
I didn’t like how she was downplaying it. Why is she trying to protect this scum? “Why didn’t you come to me, Sheila? You know I’m always here for you and Chloe.”
“Jax, please. Don’t do anything to him….I need to find a way to resolve this,” she said, with tears streaming down her face.
“Resolve what? I’m not leaving until I hear the truth, Sheila. And every minute I’m in here with you, I’m not out there looking for Chloe.”
“I always knew he was an addict. The alcohol, that time with the drugs. I should have seen this coming!”
“Sheila, what the fuck’s going on?”
“Roy’s in debt. Gambling debt. He used to tell me he was going out bowling every Friday and Saturday night. It was all goddamn lies, Jax. The whole lot of it.”
“And he hit you because you confronted him. Like when you confronted him about Chloe?”
“No. It wasn’t him. He ran up those debts in my name. Over 100k is owed in my name, Jax. Even over a few years, I couldn’t even save a tenth of that on my salary.”
That motherfucking, cock-sucking pile of shit. “Well, if Roy didn’t hit you then who did?”
Sheila shut her eyes and turned her head for a moment as though the thought of what had happened pained her to her core. “Some guys came round last night.” She took a breath. “Anyway, they attacked me.”
“Who were they, Sheila? What did they do?”
“There were two of them. I thought it was Roy. I thought he was home from work, so I flung open the door to tell him to go to hell and they just sort of barged in. Said if I didn’t pay up the first quarter by next week Friday I’m finished; said they would find me, Jax.” Sheila broke down.
“That bastard! We’ll fix this, Sheila.” I’ll fix this. I clenched my fists until my knuckles turned white and could feel my veins throbbing in my neck.
“Roy said he loved me. He asked me to marry him for Christ’s sakes. Now I’m starting to think he was only interested in money. Or rather, passing off more debts onto me and fleecing me for what little money I do have.” She wrung her hands for a moment then said, “And now this thing with Chloe.”
“Sheila, he’s a scum of the earth piece of shit that needs to be taken care of.” I looked at her. “I saw Chloe yesterday. I saw the bruises and scratches he left on her arms. I know she was almost raped by that fucker.”
Sheila hung her head. Looking more defeated than I’ve ever seen her before as she admitted, “I guess I should have known that all along. Roy isn’t a nice man but Jax, you can’t hurt him not yet. I need to get the debts transferred back over to him somehow. If he’s dead, I’ll be dead for sure.”
“I’ll sort it, Sheila. I swear. Right now, I need to bring Chloe back, ok?” I whispered as I held her in my arms.
“I trust you, Jax. And I see how much my daughter loves you. Don’t let anything to happen my Chloe. She’s all I’ve got left of Jesse.” She hugged me and nuzzled her face into my chest.
“I won’t. I’ll do whatever it fucking takes. That’s why I need to get going, ok?”
A small spark of hope entered her eyes, and she nodded her head.
“But you need to listen to me. I don’t want you at work for the next few days. Whoever came to see you at your place will probably know where you work. He would have made sure they knew where to find you. I don’t want you staying there anymore.”
I reached around to my back, under my shirt and pulled out a white, rectangular envelope that I’d tucked into my jeans. I grabbed hold of both her trembling hands and cupped them around it. “This is enough cash to live on and get you a decent apartment for the next few months. I’m putting an end to this bullshit right now. No man touches a woman like that. No man treats women like that on my watch. Not ever. You and Chloe deserve so much more. I need you promise that you’ll go home right now, pick up your things and leave for a while. Find a small apartment for you and Chloe until this all blows over.”
Her eyes locked onto mine, the joy and relief on her face warmed my heart. “I promise, Jax. Thank you—for everything you’ve done for us….”
I shook my head and interrupted, “I ain’t no saint…But I need to do what is right for you, and right by Chloe.”
“Well…. You work hard to hide it, but yes, you are Jax. Please, bring her back?”
I squeezed her hand tightly and placed my other hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you worry, I’ll bring Chloe back,” I said with sincerity in my voice.
Her eyes darted over my face in fear as I stood stoically. “Thank you, Jax.” She smiled, softly. “It just—I lost the love of my life to an MC Jax. I made a hell of a lot of mistakes raising Chloe, but I sacrificed everything I had to give her a life that could be something better. Don’t let me lose my daughter too.” He eyes were wide, steady, and welling up with tears again.
“I’ve got this.” I stared into her eyes with confidence.
We broke our hold, and I turned to the door. Just as I was about to walk out, I paused. “What time does Roy’s repair shop close?” I asked.
“5:30 at night he closes up shop and his mechanics clock-off. He usually hangs around for another half-hour or so after that before he heads home.”
“Make sure you’re out of your place before he gets back there then. Thanks, Sheila.” I gave her a final smile of reassurance before I placed my sunglasses over my eyes and walked out the door.
Back out front, Dino sat at a table waiting for me.
“Fucking hell, Jax! Are you all right?” Dino called at me before I reached his table.
I didn’t respond. There wasn’t time. When I reached the spot where Dino sat, I rested a hand on the table. I leaned over to him and spoke in a confidential whisper, “Somebody’s taken Sheila’s daughter. And I have a clue where she might be, but we’re about to find out for sure.”
“Holy shit. But what about the shipment, Jax? I just heard about it from Marco. Aren’t you scared that Bruno’s gonna kill you?”
We shared a look for a moment as though reading each other’s minds. My fuck-up with the whiskey shipment would either be the end of me or the end of the club when Antonio got the presidency by default tomorrow. I let out a heavy sigh and shook my head. “No. I need to find Chloe first…Sheila’s daughter and there may be a link to the heist and her. The guys who have her were in on it. Will you help me or not?”
“Of course, brother. But who’s got her? What are you going to do?” Dino asked.
“I’ll explain more on the way out; we don’t have any time to waste.”
Dino jumped up about of his seat and followed me outside.
As we headed for our bikes, he asked, “Why would someone take Sheila’s daughter? Wasn’t her kid out of town anyway? I was sure she had mentioned it one time. College or something…”
Amid a flurry of Dino’s questions that would remain unanswered, I interrupted. “Look, Sheila’s fiancé is Roy Harris. She knows Roy owns the automotive repair shop in Tijuana that is used by the Bloods. The Bloods have taken Chloe. I just don’t know where. And Roy is the only direct link between Chloe and the Bloods’.
“Hold on. Sheila’s dating that drunk-ass-motherfucker?”
“Apparently… they were engaged. I doubt they are anymore though, not after what he just pulled. But I’m real worried about Chloe. We need to find out where she’s been taken before anything happens to her. I’m sure Roy has something to do with it.”
Still fairly confused, Dino nodded. “You gonna kill him?” he asked as we mounted to our bikes.
I knew in my heart that if I killed Roy like I wanted to, I would put Chloe’s mother’s life at an even higher risk than it already was. I pained me to know that I couldn’t even beat Roy up for what he’d done because I knew I wouldn’t have the willpower to stop. A person like Roy could turn me into a monster of a man which I promised myself I would never become. “He’d be a waste of a bullet. But we’ll see. That fucker has a lot to answer for first.”