The Biker's Secret Girlfriend Page 7

  She wasn’t going to ignore it this time. Before she could pick up her phone again, it chimed. In her haste to get to it, she almost knocked it to the floor. With it secure in her hand, she saw Maverick had texted.

  Can’t talk right now. Need you to get somewhere safe. Take Navy and get somewhere safe.

  She stared at the words, horror pulling through her. She had no idea how to respond.

  A hotel, his next message said.

  Not my loft. Not a family member.

  Please, Karly. Text me when you’re both somewhere safe.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, typing the words in at the same time.

  Can’t explain right now. Go now.

  Still, she hesitated, her mind already revolving through possibilities. There were dozens of hotels in town due to the big cherry blossom festivals, the lake activities, and the state park.

  But the absolute safest place for her and Navy would be in Sami and Andy’s building. He could lock the whole thing down in a few minutes, and then no one could get in or out. He had cameras and speakers and untold wealth to protect them up on the highest floor in the building.

  She quickly dialed Sami, stood, and headed down the hall to throw a few things into a bag. Her sister didn’t answer, and Karly tried Andy next.

  “Karly?” he answered on the first ring, his voice fresh from sleep. “What’s going on?”

  “I need help,” she said. “Can Navy and I come stay with you and Sami?” She tossed a pair of jeans on her bed and turned to get a couple of T-shirts from the closet.

  “Of course. What’s going on?”

  “Can I tell you when we get there?” she asked. “And can you send someone to come get me?”

  “This sounds serious,” he said.

  “Karly, what’s going on?” Sami asked, and Karly realized she was on speaker phone. Everything inside her screamed to get out of the house as soon as possible. She grabbed the first two shirts she saw and said, “I have a secret boyfriend who’s the leader of a motorcycle gang.”

  “What in the world?” Andy said, his voice mostly filled with awe.

  “And he said get somewhere safe as soon as possible. And your penthouse is the safest place in the country, probably.”

  “I’m sending a taxi,” Andy said.

  “No,” Sami said. “Send Miles. A taxi sticks out this late at night.”

  “Any car on the road this late at night will stick out,” Andy said.

  “I can’t wait for a car anyway,” Karly said, changing her mind on the fly. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes, and then I need you to lock the building down once we’re inside.”

  “Be careful,” Andy said.

  “Hurry,” Sami added, and Karly hung up, intending to do just that.

  Chapter Ten

  Maverick did not condone violence, but the Vice of the Hawks had been on his turf way too much in the past couple of weeks. So when Connor had sent him a message that there was a Hawk in the store, cornering a dark-haired woman, Maverick had called out all the guys.

  Yes, he was in trouble with his own club for even being involved with Karly. But that didn’t mean he was going to let her get hurt.

  Gerald had started an investigation into the allegations about William “Bill” Addler, but he hadn’t been able to find definitive proof either. Everyone had been ordered to look around, find out, put the word to the ground and learn the truth.

  And what they’d found hadn’t been any better.

  It wasn’t Karly’s grandfather who’d been involved with the Hawks. It was her husband. Bill Addler had ridden with the Hawks for a couple of weeks as a prospect, but then he’d met his wife and stopped coming. Prospects didn’t count as full patch members, and there was no way the Hawks could lay claim to the entire Addler family because Bill had been to two meetings sixty years ago.

  But Derrick Lydell, on the other hand, created a whole new problem Maverick hadn’t even been aware of.

  The man had been working for the Hawks for the two years before his death, ferrying over people in trouble, cash, and drugs that then got moved into Canada. He’d been paid well for his nighttime activities, and his wife had no idea about it.

  At least that was the word Ian had been able to come up with after talking to a friend of a friend who ran the regular ferry line across Forbidden Lake.

  “So it was common knowledge?” Maverick had asked.

  “On the underground,” Ian had said. And none of Maverick’s club ran on the underground. They were an above-board Motorcycle Club. One of the ninety-nine percent of clubs out there. They weren’t outlaws, or killers, or drug-smugglers.

  But the Hawks were, and they’d definitely see Karly as a snitch if they even thought she’d breathed a word about what her husband used to do for them on the lake.

  “I don’t think she knows,” he’d told his club, and they’d all agreed. He still wasn’t in the clear, especially now with Bulldog standing there on the sidewalk, extremely unrepentant.

  Maverick had sent six men down the road to keep people from coming to the convenience store, and to make sure no more birdies showed up.

  He pushed all the thoughts he’d had over the last week out of his mind. Now was not the time to dwell on things he couldn’t change. Jordan had suggested they put a man on the underground, so they’d know things like this, and Maverick was seriously considering it.

  “This’ll be your last warning,” he said to Bulldog, who just sneered at him. “I see you or your crappy bike here again, and something’s going to be lit on fire.”

  Bulldog laughed. “You don’t have the guts to light the match.”

  Maverick nodded without looking away from Bulldog, and Gerald flicked on his lighter. “Maybe I don’t,” Maverick said. “But I have plenty of guys who do.”

  They tightened in on Bulldog, whose eyes swept left and right as every man in the club held up a lighter and snapped it until flames illuminated the night.

  “So you’ll leave now,” Maverick said calmly, right in the heart of the crowd, only about ten feet from Bulldog. “And you won’t cross the lake again. You have your territory up there. We own down here.”

  Bulldog lifted his chin, his eyes aglow with rage. “Daddy still wants to see you.”

  “Fine,” Maverick said. “Let’s set it up.”

  “Tonight,” Bulldog said, and a skiff of fear moved through Maverick.

  “Boss,” Jordan said out of his mouth. “Nope.”

  Maverick heard everything his Vice would say to him. We don’t have time to scope out the route. We don’t know what they want. You certainly can’t go alone.

  “Just you,” Bulldog said. “Tonight, midnight. Everything will be settled, and you’ll get your little town back.”

  Maverick continued to stare at him, indecision raging through him like a hurricane. By midnight tonight, they might be able to put a plan together for his extraction should things go sideways.

  Bulldog lifted his fingers to his mouth, and Maverick knew what came next. A whistle, and then somehow, his birds would come flying to his aid, despite the fact that Maverick had received no report of anyone else in the vicinity.

  The distant sound of sirens met Maverick’s ear at the same time the voice in his headset said, “Cops incoming, Boss.”

  “Just me,” he said. “Midnight.” It would do no good to get Bulldog arrested. He nodded again, taking a step back as his enforcers took a step forward. No, they’d just bloody the guy up and dump him in the woods, out of sight of the police. Forbidden Lake was a small enough town that there weren’t police dogs to follow the scent of blood.

  The smack of fists against a face met his ears as he walked away with his senior officers. “Meeting in ten,” he said. “Make sure none of our guys are here when the cops show up.”

  Maverick was ten minutes late to the meeting, but he didn’t care. He knew his men would be waiting for him downstairs, but he couldn’t get himself to leave the loft quite yet. He just ne
eded a few minutes to calm down. To try to figure out what to do. To get that thudding, punching sound out of his ears.

  He’d never been a violent man, even if he authorized the use of threats and violence sometimes. Yes, he knew how to handle a gun. All the Sentinels did. He knew about explosives, thanks to Davis, who’d served in the military. He knew how to secure a prisoner and how to ask the right questions with just enough malice in his voice.

  But none of it brought him any pleasure, and as the club had saved him from a life of abuse, he’d wanted to give something back to others. So he carried on the legacy of the Sentinels acting as guards for those who didn’t have a voice. For kids who had to face their abusers in court. For women who needed a leg up sometimes. They were members of B.A.C.A. and they didn’t smuggle drugs, people, or money anywhere.

  Thankfully, they had a good reputation around town, and Jordan had opened the door to the cops and said, no they hadn’t heard about any scuffle at the QuikStop. Connor hadn’t said anything either, and Maverick cursed Karly for calling 911.

  She didn’t know, he told himself—and that was his fault. He hadn’t told her much about the club and what they did. The power they had. How he could mobilize them in under five minutes, ride to Williamsburg, and bomb down the front door of the club where his best friend was being held.

  Karly was as unreachable as ever, especially if her husband was involved with the Hawks. That was worse than her grandfather, not better. She was practically an old lady in the outlaw club, for crying out loud.

  His phone rang, and the words Little Princess sat on the screen. Karly was calling.

  He sighed, bent down and patted King, and said, “Okay, boy. Here we go.” Then he left his phone in his loft and went downstairs to the meeting room in the back of the shop, the dog right at his side. He wondered if he could bring King tonight, maybe concealing a mic or a knife or something. Anything to give Maverick an out if he needed it.

  “All right,” he said among the chatter as he entered, Jordan, Lucas, and Gerald at his side. “First item, do we need to call a vote on leadership?” He scanned his men, and only about half of them would meet his eye. He needed all of them. “Gerald, do it.”

  Maverick stepped to the side as the Sergeant at Arms took center stage. “Full patch members get a vote,” he said. “We’re either behind Mav on this, or we’re not. We need everyone. Has to be unanimous.”

  Maverick watched the boys on the benches in front of him. He’d lost a couple of them, he could tell. Davis, for one, hadn’t been able to talk to him much over the course of the last week as the investigation into Bill Addler’s membership had drawn itself out.

  “It’s simple,” Gerald said. “Yes, Mav is the Boss, as usual, and we’re with him. Or no, it’s time for him to go.” Gerald swallowed, his normally sharp eyes on the nervous side tonight. Maverick remained impassive, his arms folded, his face still. He nodded for Gerald to go on.

  “Of course, he’s a Sentinel,” Gerald said. “So anyone willing after the vote will still go to his aid.” He looked around at the group. “I’ll go first. My vote is yes.” He glanced at Jordan. “Vice?”

  “Yes,” Jordan said in a loud, clear voice.

  Around the leadership it went, and everyone said yes. Up and down the benches. Yes, yes, yes. Maverick couldn’t help the swell of love he had for his men.

  Finally, the last vote went up—“Yes”—and Gerald gave a grim smile to the group. “Mav, you’re the Boss. Now let’s figure out how to pluck these Hawks.” Gerald had come from an outlaw Motorcycle Club down in Texas, along the US-Mexico border. He was one of the tougher members of the club, and Maverick appreciated everything he did.

  He took Gerald’s place in front of the Club. “Thanks, everyone,” he said. “I know I’ve made a mistake.” He paused, because he didn’t truly know that. He really liked Karly, and he could completely see her upstairs in his loft with him, that cute little girl with her. He could be her dad, and he’d enjoy it. Love her. Love her mother.

  His emotions choked in the back of his throat, and he had to make sure she was safe before he went to Grand Central and the Hawks’ lair. Too bad he left his phone upstairs.

  “The ferry won’t be running,” he finally said. “So we’ll take the road up.”

  “He said to come alone,” Vice reminded him. “How are we going to hide forty motorcycles in the middle of the night?”

  Maverick wasn’t planning on hiding. “I know what we told Bulldog. But that doesn’t mean that’s what we have to do.” He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if anyone in his Club got hurt tonight. But they’d all jumped at the chance to help Declan last year. And they were all-in now, too.

  “How about if some of us take a boat?” Davis asked, stepping forward. His “yes” had been vocalized, maybe not as loudly as Maverick would’ve liked. But it had been there. “I know how to captain a boat. I can get us across Forbidden Lake undetected while you ride up alone.”

  Maverick considered the idea. “And then?”

  “And then we blow the feathers off their backs,” Ian said. “And we find out if this Derrick Lydell guy was a member or just someone they paid to keep his mouth shut and his eyes in the other direction as he crossed the lake.” His eyes burned with intensity. “Because there’s a difference.”

  “It’s forty-one minutes on a bike to Grand Central,” Lucas said, his phone in front of his face. “We can get across the lake in that time.”

  “If you had a boat,” Maverick said. “Do we even know someone with a boat that will fit thirty of us? And a dock we can launch from? And even if we did—then what? You’ll hike to the Hawks’ Clubhouse?” He shook his head. “I think I take a small contingency, and we go up on bikes. They don’t really expect me to come alone. They’ll make the others wait outside, and I’ll just go in alone.”

  “You’re really going to talk to Daddy?” Ian asked.

  “Is there a better way to get the information we need?” Maverick asked.

  “He’s crazy,” Ian said, shaking his head.

  “I’m open to other ideas,” Maverick said. “That don’t result in jail time for any of us, bloodshed on either side, or dead bodies on the streets of Grand Central.” He was practically yelling by the time he finished. “We do any of that, and we don’t have the opportunity to run our club the way we want to. Not anymore.” He shook his head.

  “I’m taking five people. Everyone else will hold here. Two of us will be in constant contact with the headset with two of you here. You’ll stand at the ready, like Sentinels do, and we’ll go in and find out what their demands are, learn as much as we can, and get out of there.”

  He surveyed the group. “Now, raise your hand if you’re willing to be one of the four who rides with me.”

  To his great surprise, every hand went up—including Davis’s.

  “Davis,” he said, nodding. “Vice. Gerald. Ian. Hog.”

  “Boss,” Lucas started, his eyes frantic.

  “Lucas, I need you here,” Maverick said. “You have the club, and you’ll be Boss if Vice and I don’t make it back.”

  He snapped his mouth shut, and Maverick hoped that what he’d just said would not become reality. Lucas nodded, and Maverick did too, and the meeting ended. Now, he just had to figure out a way to get through the meeting so he could get back to Karly.

  Chapter Eleven

  Karly gripped the steering wheel too tight the entire way from her remote cabin on the cherry orchard to the tall office building downtown. She didn’t see another car—or motorcycle—on the road, but she couldn’t seem to relax.

  Navy fussed in the back seat, and Karly didn’t even have the brain power to comfort her. She just needed to get to Sami’s and everything would be okay.

  “We have the garage opening,” Andy said, his voice calm and powerful through Karly’s speakers. “How close are you?”

  “Turning onto Medford,” Karly said. “Two minutes.” She made the turn, the building loom
ing in front of her just past the park. Her scalp prickled, and she glanced around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

  “Okay,” Andy said. “I see you. The garage is on the south side, Karly. It looks like a service entrance. There’s a gate you go through. I have that open too.”

  “Okay,” she said, a little creeped out that Andy could see her car. Perhaps that had been the reason for the sensation still running down her spine. She turned to go between the park and the building to go from north to south, turning again and spotting the gate easily. The spotlight shining in the dark night certainly helped.

  Light spilled out onto the road and toward the parking lot, and as Karly turned to guide her SUV down the ramp and into the waiting, gaping garage, she caught sight of a glint of silver. She hit the brakes, a gasp pulling through her whole body.

  “Andy,” she said. “There’s someone here. South side. Front lot.”

  “No,” he said. “There’s nothing. Get in the garage, Karly. I can’t start locking down until everything is closed.” He sounded scared, and that urged Karly to move.

  She didn’t look again, but she’d seen the hint of chrome in the light. The hint of chrome from a motorcycle. Someone was there, and he loitered almost out of reach of the spotlight.

  Karly eased into the garage and said, “I’m in.”

  “Initiating lockdown procedures,” Andy said. “Sami will meet you at the elevator. You’ll be upstairs in three minutes.”

  Relief threatened to make Karly sag against her headrest, but she didn’t. She wasn’t entirely out of danger yet. “Come on, Navy-bear,” she said in a falsely bright voice as her brother-in-law ended the call. “Let’s go see Aunt Sami and Uncle Andy, okay?”

  She got out of the SUV, scanning the garage. It could—and did—hold fifteen cars, and she wondered whose they all were. Then she remembered that Anderson Tanner was a billionaire—and now her sister was too.

  So these cars belonged to them.