Chapter Five

May 2015

 

 

“Hey, you got a minute?” I called after Grey as he walked outside. I’d been called down to the canyon for church, something that was happening more and more frequently.

Before, Grey had done an excellent job of keeping me out of his shit. Now, I was making trips to the canyon at least twice a week for club business. That was the problem with being a great speechwriter; suddenly everyone else became lazy as fuck.

I’d avoided patching in this long and I sure as hell wasn’t about to join up now just to fill the role of club cheerleader.

Fuck that.

Grey paused and looked back at me. “What’s on your mind, kid?”

“It’s Lauren. She thinks she might have found a way to smoke out the mole.” I’d outright refused to let her put herself in danger again, and I was hoping Grey might have a better alternative.

He took a couple of puffs from the lit cigar in his hand before asking, “What’s she got?”

I shook my head. “Not out here in the open—officers only.”

Grey blew a perfect ring of smoke in my direction. “Mikey, you know that my guys take an oath when they patch in—we even have them fill out a fucking application. If I trust them with my life, then you can too.”

I wanted to believe him. I did. But Feds had infiltrated clubs before and with his recent shit, I wasn’t taking any chances. “Officers or nothing, old man. That’s the best I can do.”

He nodded. “You got it. Head back in and I’ll round ‘em up.”

I knew the oath that all Silent Phoenix members took. Shit, I’d taken an oath of my own and look at how well I’d held up my end of that.

1)      As a member of Silent Phoenix MC, I will never use my patch for personal gain.

2)     As a member of Silent Phoenix MC, I will never mess with a brother’s ol’ lady.

3)      As a member of Silent Phoenix MC, I will never cause one of my brothers to end up on the wrong side of the law in any way, shape, or form.

4)     As a member of Silent Phoenix MC, I will never steal from one of my brothers.

5)     As a member of Silent Phoenix MC, I will never lie to my Pres or my brothers.

I had the damn thing memorized before I was eight. My old man beat it into me. I was to be a shining example to my brothers long before I was old enough to pledge. The trouble was, even as a kid, I kind of thought the whole thing was bullshit.

People broke promises every day. Comedian had vowed to love my mother, yet he fucked around on her any chance he got. He’d promised to come to my little league baseball games, yet I’d look up from the outfield every game to see my mother sitting alone. A lot of times, Grey had even shown up to watch me from the fence, but it wasn’t the same.

Human nature dictated a need to let other humans down. I’d come to terms with that shit a long time ago. Grey, for whatever reason, held out this hope that people would be who they pledged to be.

The bikers filed in, one by one, scowls on all of their faces. I knew that Grey had interrupted them from fucking or using and nobody liked being pulled away from that. Wolverine followed in last and I gave Grey a look.

“What? He’s a Life-member. I ain’t throwin’ him out.”

Sensing that I was about to lose what little control I had over the room, I began. “Gentlemen, I will just take a moment of your time and you can get back to being balls deep in pussy and whatever illicit drugs strike your fancy. This is about my girl.”

Carnage rolled his eyes and mimed jacking himself off.

“Carnage, Pumpkin, you can go back to fucking yourself as soon as this meeting is over. Just give me a goddamned second of your time for now though, yeah?” He slammed his hands down on the table, but immediately sat back when Grey shook his head. “As I was saying, my girl has a plan for getting our mole in the department. She wants to waltz in and press for them to reopen her mother’s case due to new evidence that’s been brought to light. I think it’s a fucking stup—”

“What evidence does she have?” Jarvis asked, at the same time as Crossbones.

I shrugged. “How the fuck am I supposed to know?”

Little Ricky piped up, his pen poised over a notebook. Apparently, he thought this counted as a meeting and was in secretary mode. “I searched her apartment up and down that night, Mikey. If she had evidence, I never saw it. She had a wall full of information, but it was information we already had. Whoever took out Monica was good and didn’t leave behind a trace.”

I knew about the wall. I’d noted it the night we saved her from Chon Ramos. Little Ricky was supposed to have been in and out of her apartment before she got home from the gym. Her storyboard of a wall was the reason she was still with us. He had gotten hung up taking pictures of it. Any problems I had with him disappeared the minute he saved her life. I owed him one.

Grey let out another couple of smoke rings. “I say we do it. If the mole thinks she has evidence against the Sons, they’re going to be falling all over themselves to get to her. She’s still alive because they don’t believe she knows enough to become a threat.”

Without thinking, I growled, “Then what the fuck was Chon Ramos planning? To cook her dinner?”

The table went silent, waiting on Grey to lash out at me. Admittedly, I deserved it. Instead of losing his shit, he smiled. “You know, I don’t think filet mignon was on the menu, but I also don’t think he was there to kill her. I think he was going to rough her up to try and keep her quiet. We’ve used the same tactic over the years.”

Jesus. I could’ve lived without ever knowing that.

“So, it’s a good plan?” I’d banked on him thinking it was terrible and coming up with something better.

“When is she planning on this taking place?” My father asked with a bored expression on his face. He’d definitely been in the middle of a bimbo bender—blow too, judging by his eyes.

I shrugged again, feeling frustrated that the club sanctioned this asinine idea. “We haven’t decided.”

Grey stood up, signaling that the meeting was over. “Get a date and let me know. We’ll catch us a fucking mole.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of the flight crew, welcome to Denver.”

I blinked to clear my head, realizing that I’d actually managed to sneak in some sleep this flight. People began unbuckling and reaching into the overhead bins to gather their belongings.

Yep. I was officially in the movie Groundhog Day.

“Come to Denver. It’s gorgeous,” I muttered angrily to myself as I disembarked, earning myself a condescending stare from a blue-haired old woman wearing a paisley neck pillow as if she was making a fucking fashion statement.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” I sneered before storming off the jet-bridge. It wasn’t Blue-Hair’s fault, it was Lauren’s. She refused to back down on her plan, even going as far as to threaten to cut me out of it if I argued with her one more time.

On top of that, I’d been looking into the messages Katya had received and it wasn’t good. This guy knew his way around the system. I’d been hoping for a run-of-the-mill crazy living in his parent’s basement somewhere out in Jersey.

Blue Hair caught up to me and popped me upside the head with her paisley neck pillow. “You kiss your mother with that mouth, mister? You need to learn some respect. Kids these days…” She continued muttering to herself as she headed toward the train, but I held back, deciding that waiting for the next one was the best way to guarantee I remained concussion free.

I was starting to think that I was fucking cursed.

I finally managed to make it to baggage claim and, in some weird twist of fate, Blue Hair was already long gone. The next four and a half hours were spent in my rental car, searching Katya’s condo and traveling up winding mountain roads, while forcing myself to yawn every so often, just to pop my ears. Fucking altitude change.

I made it to the cabin just after dark. The only problem was that I was the only one. Katya was nowhere to be found. I tried her cell phone several times, but it kept going straight to voicemail.

Two hours later, I was contemplating going in through the window and searching the place. I decided to try her one last time before performing a B&E.

She answered with a cheerful, “Hey, Mike. You calling to tell me I can come home and give up my dreams of becoming a mountain-woman?”

“Where are you, Katya? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.” I tried to keep my tone casual, but it turned out that casual had left the fucking building two hours ago.

Her voice got quieter. “I got a job. I needed to get out of the house.”

I rubbed at my forehead wearily. “I’m at the cabin. We need to talk.” I hung up and got comfortable on her porch swing; steadying my breathing, while also working out a way to tell her that she couldn’t go back to the city yet.

A half-hour later, headlights hit the front of the house, damn near blinding me. Katya unsteadily pushed her bike up the hill with a truck right on her heels.

I reached for my gun, before remembering it was still locked away in my luggage. “Who’s this?” I asked as she drew closer to the house.

She shrugged and dropped her bike onto the gravel, as if this sort of thing happened to her all the time. “Some guy I pissed off.”

The man parked and got out. “Is she okay? I just wanted to make sure she made it home safely.”

I walked toward him, unarmed, but hopefully sending a message for him to back off. “She said she upset you. Did you hurt her?”

Katya fell over and immediately began crying and muttering to herself. She gathered up her things before crawling across the gravel path. Her knees were going to be a bloody mess.

I grabbed her arm and hauled her back onto her feet. “What in the hell are you rambling about over here?”

A dog joined the man as they made their way into the house next door. I called out, “Hey, I’m not finished talking to you.”

Katya shook her head and patted my chest. “Don’t—he’s fine. It’s me.”

Once inside, I glared at her. “Couldn’t just wait and see what I had to say, could you? You had to go and get blitzed beforehand.”

As if completely oblivious to everything I was saying, she took a big swig from the vodka bottle in her hand.

“What do you need, Detective?”

I sat down on the couch, my body desperate for sleep. It had been days since I’d slept soundly, the nap on the plane notwithstanding. There was too much work to be done. “Katya, I thought you stopped drinking. Your dad said you were sober when we last spoke.”

My mouth began to water as I watched her. I didn’t give a fuck that it wasn’t tequila—it was liquor and my body had been deprived of it for too long. I wasn’t under Grey’s jurisdiction anymore; I could drink and keep it a secret.

Katya shrugged halfheartedly. “So, I started again tonight. It’s just a minor setback.”

She sounded just like me.

I massaged my temple, trying to ward off the headache that was forming right behind my eyes. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Eventually, you’re going to have to work through what he did to you.”

I could’ve been talking to myself. I could get high or wasted, but at some point, I was going to have to come to terms with the fact that my actions had led to Monica’s death. If I’d followed up on that mysterious text with a phone call to Grey, it would’ve changed everything. As it was, I had to live with my secrets or risk losing Lauren forever. The half-ass thing we had going was better than nothing. If she knew that I’d gotten that text, she’d never forgive me.

Katya ignored me and took another drink. “I’m doing the best I can. Is that why you drove all this way? To make sure I wasn’t drinking again? Because that seems like a wasted trip. You could’ve texted, ‘Katya, are you still drinking your life away?’ and I would’ve said, ‘Yep. Fucking everything up like normal.’ And you wouldn’t have had to drive up here. Mission accomplished.”

I hesitantly admitted, “Look Katya, I don’t have good news. We’ve looked into those Facebook messages and posts. The messages are coming from multiple IP addresses. The guy’s pinging all over the place. He’s probably hiding behind a proxy server to mask his location.”

I got up and grabbed the Victoria’s Secret catalog from the inside pocket of my jacket. She’d sworn that someone had left a copy with writing on it in her bedroom, but the police hadn’t believed her. Hell, I hadn’t believed her. It was resting on her pillow as if waiting for her to come back home.

I held it up and the color drained from her already pale face. “This was on your bed. Do you know anything about it?”

She nodded, confirming my fears. He’d been inside her condo since she’d been hiding out here.

I added “I’m not giving up—but you can’t go home until we find him,” before pulling the vodka from her hands and taking a long swig myself. I was just taking the edge off—the flight had been turbulent and I was running on fumes.

“Do you think it’s the same guy that was leaving things on my door? Has anything else been left?” Her hands shook as she reached for the bottle again.

I handed it over reluctantly before staring down at the hardwood floor. “Yeah. There’s been one other note left. I had people watching your front door, but I guess he spotted them. The note was found on your Jeep down in the parking garage. Security cameras came up blank though. How he got into your condo is beyond me.”

She softly asked, “And…what did it say?”

“It just said, “You deserve the moon and the stars laid at your feet. Give me one more chance.” He wants you to think it’s Landon, obviously.”

She didn’t respond, just calmly tipped the bottle back and finished it off. The glass slipped through her fingers and fell onto the coffee table with a bang.

She stood up, swaying heavily. “I can’t stay here forever, Mike. You promised me you’d end this. And you still don’t know who this guy is?”

This was why I dreaded coming up here. After everything Katya had been through, she deserved to go home. Just like Lauren deserved to go back to her apartment. Until I knew who the real enemy was though, it wasn’t safe for either of them.

“I said I’d fix it, just—”

She cut me off. “This is your fault! You could’ve arrested Landon. People would’ve seen him for the monster he was, but you took justice into your own hands. You swore to uphold the law and you broke your vow then. Why should now be any different?”

She somehow managed to spin on her heel to walk away from me, but I grabbed her arm, yanking her back. I could’ve been having this fight with Lauren. It was the same fucking topic every time.

I snarled, “I’m getting real fucking sick of trying to explain why I did what I did. You wanna accuse me of being corrupt? Fine. Just remember who saved your ass that night.”

She slapped me and I reared back, stunned. “I never once asked you to do that!”

Fuck this.

I shoved her into a wall. “Don’t hit me. You hear that? Can you process what I’m saying with all the alcohol in your system?”

She let out a low growl and began striking my head and chest with both fists. I snatched both of her arms and pinned them above her head. It felt too familiar. When Lauren took her anger out on me, it felt warranted. With Katya, it just pissed me off. We were fighting to regain our breath when I made the mistake of looking down at her.

I dropped my head down next to her face and inhaled. She smelled like a restaurant; nothing at all like Lauren. She turned her head until her lips brushed against mine and that was all it took.

I dropped her hands and moved my mouth roughly over hers. The same hands that were hellbent on hurting me, caressed my cheeks gently as she deepened the kiss. I was hard and I hadn’t been turned on by a woman since Cam. And that was only because she looked like Lauren.

Yep. If I ever stepped foot into a therapist’s office, they were going to cancel the rest of their appointments for the day and spend it trying to diagnose why I was so fucked up.

I ignored my depraved mental state and lifted Katya up.

“That way.” She directed me down the hall toward her bedroom.

I was just going to get it over with. I’d work my frustration out on her body, all while proving that my dick wasn’t broken. My heart? Maybe. But, I could only fix one thing at a time.

I laid her back on the bed and stripped her pants off before staring at her in horror. I was so fucking sleep deprived that I could’ve sworn I was seeing the injuries from the night I saved her. I blinked until her body looked normal again, silently chastising myself for not grabbing a coffee before I left Denver.

I just needed to get her naked and beneath me. Nothing else mattered. Her t-shirt came off next, followed shortly after by her bra. I ran my tongue across her skin, resisting the urge to sink my teeth into her until she cried out. Rage flowed through my veins. I had the urge to hurt her. I wanted to inflict pain on her because she wasn’t Lauren.

What the fuck was wrong with me?

Her eyes fluttered shut and I pushed down my dark thoughts.

Focus, Mikey.

I saw the police report as clear as day in my mind. She’d been violently raped and beaten almost daily. I was a fucking monster to even think about laying a hand on her.

I poured all of my effort into licking and sucking my way down her body, trying to give her pleasure. “You like this? Is it okay?”

I slipped my hand under the band of her panties and she stiffened.

Jesus Christ.

I was forcing her to relive what he did.

She’d somehow seen my thoughts and knew that I was no better than Landon Scott. I yanked my hand back, as if her body had burned me. I inhaled, but it was as if I was breathing through a straw.

Katya looked up at me. “Why’d you stop?”

I laughed bitterly. “Really? You’re lying there as if I’m about to hurt—Jesus, Katya. Have you been with anyone since it happened?”

The realization gave me the urge to take a cold shower and scrub my skin until every disgusting thought I’d had was gone.

She tried to reach for me. “No, but you could fix that.”

I shook my head and moved away from her. “Absolutely not. We’re not doing this.”

“What? Why not?”

My dick was still painfully confined in my jeans, reminding me that I hadn’t had an erection since February. I moved back over to the bed and was about to make my move when I heard my father’s voice as clear as day.

She’s fine with it. Fuck, she’s practically begging for it. That pussy is aching for a real man to remind her of what she is. A toy.

I snapped. “I can’t. It wouldn’t be right.”

She pulled her clothes back on, while muttering, “Since when did you start caring about what’s right?”

When a gorgeous redhead asked me to dance on a beach.

When I saw her walk down that hallway in David and Elizabeth’s house and I thought for a brief second that maybe life did hand out fairy tales.

That was when I started caring about what was right. When I held her in my arms, I wanted to be on the right side of things, more than anything I’d ever wanted before in my life.

I shook my head and said, “Stop. Enough with the blaming. There’s another woman—”

Katya covered her face in mortification. “You’re married? Oh my g—”

I stopped her. “I’m not married. Just fucking listen, for once in your life. I was involved with someone when this shit went down. I lost her because of it. I have to live with those regrets for the rest of my life. So, quit sitting over there acting like you’re the only one with problems because of it.”

She lowered her hands and gave me a pointed look. “So, you’re not married? That doesn’t explain why we can’t—”

“Stop, Katya. You think I don’t want to? Jesus, your body is perfect. And honestly, most guys in my situation wouldn’t hesitate to fuck a supermodel, but I’m not the type of guy who’s gonna stick around for breakfast though.”

I was not sinking to Comedian’s level. I refused to push Katya into sex just because I needed to get off. She’d end up in a psych ward.

She sauntered over to me, giving me her best ‘come fuck me’ stare. “I don’t expect you to stick around. Hell, you can leave right after we’re done.”

I wasn’t biting and led her back over to the bed. “I can’t. Katya, I saw you that night. I saw what he did to you—I’ve read the medical report a thousand times, for Christ’s sake. I look at you and I see the photos that were taken in the hospital. Every cut, every bruise, every abrasion documented in writing and full color photos. I know he raped you, but I can’t put you back together. I can’t have a one night stand with you—not with knowing all that I do.”

Realization hit me like a slap in the face. I was worse than a monster. I’d turned into my father. Years spent fighting it…for nothing. I ran the back of my hand angrily across my eyes as tears began to fall. I thought I’d wanted to hurt Katya, but really, I wanted to hurt myself.

I’d wasted all these years trying to be better—to be someone I could tolerate seeing in the mirror every morning. The apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree though. I’d been so hellbent on getting Lauren back that I never once considered if I even deserved her.

And I knew, deep down, that I didn’t.

She needed a warrior and I was nothing more than a depraved man-child. Like a child, I hadn’t questioned the text on Monica. I’d followed orders, while convincing myself that I was still in charge. I was nothing more than a fucking puppet on a string though.

Katya bitterly replied, “I don’t need your pity, Detective.”

I looked up at her in surprise. “You think I pity you? No, I honestly can’t even begin to fathom how you survived four months with him. I get it— you drink until you don’t see his face when you close your eyes. I drink because every time I close my eyes, I see this image of you from that night.” I pinched the bridge of my nose in an attempt to stop the flow of tears. It wasn’t even close to the truth, but there was no way that I was throwing my burdens onto her shoulders. She’d carried enough.

See, Mike. That’s good. You’re not Michael Sullivan, Sr. He would’ve taken what he wanted, regardless. You’re better.

The thought didn’t leave me feeling any better about myself though.

Katya wrapped herself around me and I pulled her into a side hug. She whispered, “I’m sorry, Mike. I’m so sorry. It’s like I’m just beyond saving, irreparably damaged.”

Here we were, two lost souls just waiting in Purgatory. It was like a fucked up version of a Pink Floyd song.

I reassured her. “You’re not. You’ve been to Hell, but I truly believe that you can find your way back. You might have to fight to get there, but I think that if anyone can do it, it’s you. Come here.” I shifted around until her head was resting on a pillow before grabbing the extra one and moving to the floor.

Her body would go still for a few seconds and then she would jerk, waking herself up again.

I whispered up at her. “Sleep, Katya. I’m here. I’ll wake you up if it gets bad.”

“Would you have killed him without the money?” She asked quietly.

It was a question I’d asked myself a lot over the past few months. I made a promise to David and, after the shit I put him through with Patrick, I owed it to him to follow through. Fulfilling that promise had also set off a chain of events that led to me losing Lauren.

I finally answered. “I didn’t think the baby—Kaden, was going to make it. Hell, if I’m being honest, I didn’t think any of you were going to make it. David is my best friend, and I thought that if he was going to lose everything, he had a right to look his family’s killer in the eye and do whatever he wanted to him. Your father offered me money, a lot of it, and I didn’t hesitate to take it.

“Forty grand is a lot of money. I thought I could set it aside—buy Lauren a ring. You know, happily ever after shit. I didn’t ever consider that my actions with Landon would ensure that I wouldn’t have a future with her. So, to answer your question, I would’ve done it without the money—even knowing what it would cost me.”

She grew quiet again and I thought that maybe she’d finally fallen asleep. Her soft voice startled me. “I wouldn’t have let you. I would’ve let him kill me first.”

Her breathing evened out not long after, but I knew she wasn’t sleeping peacefully. People like us never got peace. Even in the quiet moments.

Her words resonated. She would’ve let Landon kill her and there were days that I wished I would’ve let Grey kill me. It would’ve been an honorable death.

The only honorable thing I’d ever done.