The crew and I have been driving around, searching for my father, for hours. We’ve checked all the places we can think of, but with no luck. Pulling up outside Brax’s office, I dismount, pulling off my helmet and gloves. I step through the door with Zane and Davo following closely behind.
“Hey.” I tip my chin to the security guard as I make my way through the entrance and over to the door that leads upstairs. Making my way up, I feel the anger brewing deep inside the pit of my stomach. My father had answered Tara’s call and I just know she’ll be spooked.
Opening the door, I search for her, but the only person I see is Brax. “Hey, man. Where are the girls?”
“Out,” he says wearing a grin.
“What the fuck do you mean, out?”
Putting his arm around my shoulder, he pulls me closer until his mouth is close enough to my ear. “I think congratulations are in order,” he whispers, looking past me to check that the other guys don’t hear.
I glance up at him, frowning. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I overheard Tara telling Izzy she thinks she’s pregnant.” He draws back, the look of excitement on his face does nothing to stop the thud inside my chest.
“No fucking way,” I say, scraping my hands down my face. “I had no idea,” I mumble.
“Shit. I thought you knew. I mean, speak to her. I could’ve gotten it wrong, but I think that’s where they’ve gone now.”
Inhaling through my nose, I blow out a slow controlled breath through my mouth. “Shit,” I chuckle nervously, knowing this could be life-changing.
“Any news on Emily?” Zane asks, concern written all over his face. Not surprising since the two of them had become close.
“I’ve had my men working on tracing the cell, but no luck,” Brax says, pulling out his smokes and offering them out. I grab one, placing it to my lips and dig in my pocket for a light. Flicking open the lighter, I hold out my hand, offering him the flame. Lighting his cigarette, I do the same with mine. Drawing on the cigarette, the hit of nicotine does nothing to calm my nerves. Fuck. The thought of Tara being pregnant is all my mind can focus on right now.
“Let me call her again, from Tara’s cell. See if the motherfucker picks up.”
“Worth a try I guess,” he says, grabbing Tara’s cell phone and handing it to me.
I redial the number, pressing speakerphone as the call rings out.
“Tara,” his voice booms out of the speakerphone. “I just knew you couldn’t keep away.”
Gritting my teeth, I snarl, “It’s Nate. Where the fuck is Emily?”
He starts laughing.
“I’m fucking serious. If you so much as hurt one hair on her head, I’m coming after you. I’ll fuck you up so bad that no one will ever be able to identify your rotting corpse.”
“Why do you have Tara’s cell?” he asks, his voice even as he completely avoids my threat.
“Tara is with me. Just like she’s always been.”
“Oh, so she didn’t tell you about the night she deep-throated my cock and rode me like a goddamn horse, huh?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I growl, my heart practically beating through my chest as I clench and unclench my fist.
Brax’s hand lands heavy on my shoulder, his eyes wide and fixed on me. “Don’t let him get to you,” he mouths. I nod, knowing that getting drawn into whatever sick game my father is playing is dangerous.
“You know, that night I got Silver to take Emily as a distraction. Yeah, well, that was the night that little old Tara and I got to know each other real well.”
My eyes dart to Brax whose brows are drawn together and his fingers scrape back and forth over his forehead. It all makes sense.
She didn’t get mugged that night. She was with my father.
Fuck.
“You better pray to God that I never find you. Because when I do, I’m going to rip you limb from limb.”
“I look forward to it.” He continues to laugh before adding, “Oh, and I’ll be sure to return Emily to you,” then he ends the call; the dial tone echoes around the office space.
“Fuck,” I roar, feeling like my whole word just got turned on its axis. “I need some answers, and above all else I need to find and kill that motherfucker!”
“I know, I know,” Brax responds calmly.
“How the fuck can you be so cool about all this? Did you hear what that sick fuck said about Tara?” I slam my fist down against the table. Hard.
I watch as he swallows heavily. “I heard it man. I mean, I wish I hadn’t, but I fucking heard him.”
“Why the fuck didn’t she tell me? Huh?” I’m so wired that I pace back and forth, my stomach in fucking knots and my heart hammering ferociously.
“Tell you what?” I hear her gentle voice asking. Spinning on the spot, I turn to see a pale-faced Tara staring back at me.
“What’s going on, Brax?” she asks, looking between us, panic written all over her face. Reaching for her, I take her by the arm.
“We need to talk,” I tell her, my voice low and full of rage. I pull harder than necessary, but I can’t help it. I’m fueled by anger and confusion. I don’t mean to take it out on her but I’m so fucking angry right now, that I don’t know how to come across any other way.
Snapping her arm from my hold, she freezes on the spot, crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes hard on me. “I ain’t going anywhere until someone tells me what the hell is going on here.”
“You don’t want to do this here,” Brax tries to warn her softly, but she’s pissed and has her guard up.
“No,” she snaps, anger in her tone. “Just spit out whatever it is, because right now, you’re making me feel like I’ve done something wrong.”
I swallow the lump that has grown in my throat, knowing I have no choice. Dropping my smoke on the floor, I extinguish it with my boot. Legs slightly apart and hands clenched together in front of me, I look her dead in the eye.
“Why didn’t you tell me about what my father did to you that night you came to see me at the clubhouse?”
I take no delight in watching her face fall and tears swell in her eyes.
“How… how… do you know about that?” She narrows her watery eyes on me, her lip quivering as she desperately tries to control her emotion.
Izzy steps closer to Tara, wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulder. “Not like this, Nate.” She whispers her plea.
“Her choice,” I retort, as the hatred for my father bubbles to an uncontrollable level. He hurt the one thing that means something to me. Fuck, the only thing. And the worst thing about this whole fucked-up situation is that she didn’t trust me enough to tell me it happened. “So, it happened?” I ask, needing the confirmation to come from her.
“Can we go home?” she asks, her voice wavering.
I nod, putting aside all of my hate and confusion, because goddamnit, seeing her like this is cutting me into pieces. I pull in a breath that seems to burn before forcing it out of my lungs, all the while my heart still races like a horse galloping.
“Let’s go,” I answer coldly, not because I’m an asshole, but because I’m struggling to deal with the torrent of emotions I’m feeling right now.
“What do you want us to do, boss?” Zane asks as I storm through the door.
“Keep searching. Work with Brax to find Emily. That’s the club’s priority right now.”
Racing down the stairs two at a time, I make my way outside, inhaling deeply as soon as the fresh air hits me. I feel like I’m choking. Slowly, all of the air is being sucked from my lungs.
“Nate,” she cries, stopping just behind me and placing her hand flat against my back. I close my eyes, allowing my head to fall forward. My shoulders rise and fall as I breathe deeply, wanting nothing more than to take her in my arms and tell her everything will be okay. Only I can’t bring myself to do it, because guilt is eating away at me, like maggots eating away on rotten flesh. The image of my father putting his hands on her flashes through my mind and it causes me to wince, dragging in a breath through my gritted teeth.
“Talk to me, please,” she whispers, her voice full of hurt and innocence.
But I can’t. I have no words of comfort. The one thing I didn’t want to happen, has. And nothing I can say or do, will undo the pain I’ve caused her.
The only option left is making my father pay. And I will make him pay. Until he’s screaming for me to stop and begging for his life.
“Let’s go,” I mutter, handing her the helmet.
“NO!” she screeches, causing a scene. “Talk to me, Nate. Tell me what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling.”
“I’m not that guy,” I say, stepping back a little. “Get on the goddamn bike, Tara.”
I lift my leg, mounting the bike, waiting for her to follow my lead. She stares at me for a few seconds before finally getting on. Her arms wrap around my waist as we set off, heading back to the house.