Crossroads Read online

  Faye nods, straightening her shoulders. “I’m ready when you are.”

  • • •

  It’s not very often that a woman catches my eye. Yes, many women are beautiful, and I will check them out, but they never make me feel anything. Countless numbers of beautiful women have walked through the clubhouse doors, and more often than not, I decided to sleep alone anyway. After my college years, when I’d fuck anything in a skirt, it became unappealing. The fact that women are so easily accessible to me kind of makes me resent them. Maybe I’m dead inside, I don’t know, but it’s been a very long time since a woman piqued my interest. The one at the bar right now, however, has me doing more than a double take. Not that this is the time or place, considering I just finished grilling the bartender for information on Elizabeth, but I can’t help it.

  I look again.

  She’s on the curvy side—I can see the curve of her ass and the shape of her hips and thighs in the tight pair of worn jeans she’s wearing. Her waist is tiny, and her tits are the perfect handful. The black halter top she’s wearing shows off her toned arms; she definitely works out. She glances at me from the corner of her blue eyes, narrowing them slightly before returning them to her drink.

  “Get what you need?” Faye asks quietly from my other side, sipping on her own drink, her alert gaze touching on everything and anything.

  “Yeah,” I reply, looking back at the woman. The bartender kept saying that he knew nothing, which is a lie. I can tell when someone lies—it’s all in the body language, and this asshole is lying. So yeah, I got what I need—the rest will be carried out tonight.

  “Shall we leave, then?” Faye asks, downing her drink and slamming the glass on the table.

  I nod and reluctantly follow her out, even though what I really want to do is ask that girl to have a drink with me. I find myself curious, wanting to know everything. Does she have a boyfriend? What does she do for work? Does she enjoy it? Why is she drinking in a place like this? Not all women can pull off having short hair, but on her the style just emphasizes the beauty in her face. I glance back at the blonde once more before walking out the door, then return my attention to Faye, who is giving me a weird look. It’s probably for the best anyway—my focus needs to be on Elizabeth right now. I don’t have the luxury of distractions until I find out exactly what happened to her. I get back into the passenger seat of Faye’s car, even though I’m not a fan of her driving, or her music.

  “What is this shit?” I ask as she starts singing along the instant the music turns on.

  “It’s ‘One Dance’ by Drake,” she says, grinning. “Good, right?”

  I shake my head. “Terrible.”

  She rolls her eyes and puts it even louder.

  I look out the window, my mind starting to wander. I haven’t been having the best time as of late, but I can’t exactly put my finger on why. The move to a new MC maybe? The Wind Dragons are amazing, and they’ve welcomed me with open arms, but why don’t I feel like I belong here? My old club, the Wild Men MC, turned out to be fucked-up. Between our bad history, Slice’s betrayal, and the pathetic men who are left over, I really don’t know why I stayed there so long. Probably because of Talon. He’s a good man, a good friend, and I trusted him and his belief in the club. I still trust him, of course, joining the Wind Dragons with him to be by his side. Is that the only reason I joined? I don’t even know anymore. I shake myself out of those thoughts. I need to focus on Elizabeth now, and everything else later.

  “I’m going to break into the bar tonight and find the missing camera footage,” I tell her, watching in amusement as her head snaps to me, eyes wide.

  “That’s your diabolical plan?” she asks, sounding incredulous.

  “Well, the bartender is lying. So it’s either that or I go to his house and give him a different kind of interrogation.” An idea forms. “Can’t the cop do that for us? Take him in and demand answers? As a matter of fact, why haven’t they stormed in with a search warrant to find the footage?”

  “They already did, apparently,” she says, tone dry. “He’s sticking to his story. He didn’t see anything unusual. As for the camera footage, they didn’t find anything. It might really have been turned off, which makes me wonder why. Either they knew something was going down, or their camera really was busted.”

  “I’m thinking they knew something was happening.”

  “Same,” Faye agrees, slamming her brakes at the light, making the car jerk.

  I brace myself against the dashboard. This is definitely the last time I’ll be a passenger in the car with her, not to mention my long legs are cramped as hell.

  “If they searched the bar and didn’t find anything, maybe the break-in isn’t necessary,” I think out loud. “But maybe we need to put our own cameras in and have the place under surveillance. They’re up to something, and I want to know exactly what it is.”

  “We can get that done tonight,” Faye agrees, nodding. “Arrow and Tracker can handle it. They’re both good with that kind of stuff.”

  “Why don’t you just ask the feds to sort it out?” I ask, wondering why she’d ask the MC for help instead of them.

  She shrugs and simply says, “I like to use my own resources if need be. I like to show them that I don’t need them, they need me.”

  “Of course you do,” I murmur, shaking my head and looking out the window.

  Who knows why Faye does what she does? She seems to always have a plan though.

  My mind wanders from Faye and her diabolical mind to someone else.

  That woman.

  I wonder if she’ll return to the bar again.

  THREE

  AFTER speaking to Elizabeth’s sister, neighbors, and friends, I head back to the clubhouse, wondering why terrible things happen to good people. She really was a saint, just a good soul, and it hurts my chest to think of what she could be suffering through right now, if she’s even still alive. I really hope she is.

  When I walk into the kitchen, smelling something delicious, I open the oven to investigate. I have to hand it to the women here: there’s always food in the kitchen, something I’m not used to, and something I won’t be taking for granted any time soon. We didn’t have any women who cooked for us at the Wild Men clubhouse. We had women who came and partied, stayed the night, then left in the morning. We had nothing like the family vibe here. I don’t even know which of the women can cook, but the fuckin’ lasagna in the oven looks amazing. I close the oven and go to the fridge for a beer, then head outside where I can hear the others laughing. Talon, Sin, and Tracker are sitting there watching the sunset, so I pull up a chair and join them. Ever since Sin stepped down as president, I’ve noticed that he’s more relaxed. It’s Arrow we turn to now if anything goes wrong, and I guess that must be a weight off his shoulders.

  “How did it go?” Sin asks me, playing with the label on his beer bottle. “Any leads?”

  “Not yet,” I say, nodding to Tracker. “Apparently you and Arrow have some cameras to plant tonight, so maybe you should stop after that beer.”

  Tracker smirks, not fazed. “Or perhaps I should drink more. Faye wants me to install cameras where, exactly? Since when did we start working for the feds too?”

  I laugh that he already knows it’s Faye handing out commands.

  “Since Faye decided so. A biker bar about thirty minutes from here,” I tell him, giving him a quick rundown of everything that happened today.

  “How exactly did you get dragged into this again?” Tracker asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

  “Faye wanted me to help,” is all I say, because it really is an answer in itself.

  They all nod like they understand.

  “You need any help, let me know,” Talon says, the look in his eyes telling me that he means anything, no matter what. He has my back. I nod, because I already know that he does.

  “I just hope we can find her,” I say, looking down at my feet. “Two weeks is a long time, you know?”

/>   Silence takes over the group as we contemplate that.

  “Let me know if you think Faye is getting in over her head,” Sin says, looking at the sunset. “I’m sure you’ve already figured out that she thinks she can save the world all on her own.”

  “I’ll look after her, don’t worry,” I reply.

  To the other men, he probably wouldn’t have even said anything, but I’m new to the MC, so I understand why he mentioned it. Still—it does annoy me a little. I get that trust is earned, but I’m a loyal man, and I will be loyal to this club, just like I was to my last. No one here besides Talon really knows that about me though. I finish my beer, listening to their easy conversations, but not participating. I feel like I’m an outsider looking in sometimes, yet I’m not exactly making any moves to fix it. I’m at a crossroads in my life, and I have no fuckin’ idea what I want or what will make me happy.

  I’m just wandering, without direction or aim.

  I really need to sort my shit out.

  • • •

  It’s a few days later when I see something on the previous night’s camera footage that has me on alert. I pause the recording, then rewind it. Grabbing my phone off the table, I hit Faye’s name and wait for her to answer.

  “I feel like we need code names,” is how she answers the phone. “Can we call each other Mulder and Scully?”

  “No,” I reply instantly. This chick is so random sometimes. “I found something I want to show you. Can you come to the clubhouse?”

  “Give me an hour,” she says, hanging up without saying ’bye.

  I take a quick shower and dress in jeans, a black T-shirt, my black boots, and my cut—my standard attire—then grab some coffee from the kitchen, thinking about everything I just saw on the video. When Faye arrives, loud and full of life, I show her the footage and sit back, waiting to see if she picks up on the same thing I did. She watches until the very end, then pauses it and turns to look at me.

  “What makes you think there’s anything suspicious about the girl getting into the car?” she asks me, eyes locked on mine.

  “The car had no license plates.”

  Her eyes widen. “I didn’t notice that. How did I miss it? Shit. How can we track it down if there’s no plate?”

  She sounds annoyed with herself, which makes me smirk. Looks like I’m not the only one who doesn’t like to lose.

  “Maybe we should find out if there’s another girl missing,” I suggest, running my hand down the stubble on my cheeks. “Put the cop on it. If there is, at least we now know where the pickup point is. We’re going to have to have someone there, making sure it doesn’t happen again, and twenty-four-hour surveillance.”

  “You think that they think they got away with it when they took Elizabeth, so they tried it again two weeks later?”

  I nod. “Must be. Pretty bold move, don’t you think? Just how big is the operation? If this girl has also been kidnapped, Elizabeth’s disappearance obviously isn’t a random act.”

  Faye picks up her phone and starts typing out a message. “I’ll get Jo on it. Maybe this is even bigger than we thought.” She sighs heavily, presses SEND, and then turns those eyes on me. “Just what are we getting into here, Ranger?”

  Her phone beeps almost instantly. She reads it, then says, “You’re going to have to meet the cop. I have to be at Clover’s school in thirty minutes. I’m going to text you the address.”

  My jaw tightens at the thought of meeting and working with a fuckin’ cop without having Faye there as a buffer. “Can’t we go after your school thing?”

  “No,” Faye says, amusement flashing in her gaze. “You don’t have to sit there and have a deep and meaningful conversation or anything. Just hand over the video footage. And we don’t want to bring a cop to the clubhouse, hence a random meeting place.”

  “Probably a police station,” I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest. “Where they proceed to arrest me afterward.”

  “You’re not going to get arrested,” she says, rolling her eyes. “There’s only room in this clubhouse for one drama queen, Ranger.”

  With that parting line, she grins, waves, and exits the room.

  My phone beeps with the address to meet this cop.

  Better get this shit over with.

  • • •

  I don’t know why this dude wants to meet at a café. Not very inconspicuous if you ask me. I’d have chosen a parking lot, or a dark alley. Fuck, maybe Faye is right—am I overdramatic?

  I arrive ten minutes late, because I had to find the fuckin’ place, then glance around the café. I don’t even know what this Joe looks like, probably something I should have asked Faye but forgot to. I can usually sense a cop a mile away—I just look for someone who gives off an air of entitlement. I’m not wearing my cut, because that would just be stupid, and I have no idea if he knows what I look like either.

  I’m scanning the café when something catches my eye, or should I say someone. When our eyes catch and hold, and she continues to stare at me expectantly, I walk over and sit down opposite her, hoping I’m wrong.

  I have to be wrong.

  “I thought you were just going to stand there all day staring at me dumbly, because that’s not obvious, right?” she says dryly, pressing her plump pink lips together. Even her voice is appealing, husky, and sensual.

  I open my mouth, then close it.

  Why does she have to be the one working on this? And she’s Elizabeth’s cousin?

  Her short blond hair is slicked back today, but it suits her. Fuck, she’s beautiful. What a shame. A waste of beauty. There’s no way in hell I’d date a cop. Hell fuckin’ no.

  “I had no idea who I was meeting today,” I say, finding my voice. “So you have me at a disadvantage.”

  “You didn’t know that was me next to you at the biker bar?” she asks, raising her brows. “Why exactly do I need your help again?”

  Of course she’s rude.

  A rude cop. Are the two mutually exclusive?

  I grit my teeth and reply with, “Probably because you still haven’t found her.”

  Her eyes narrow, and she looks down into her coffee. “Tell me what you have.”

  That must have been hard for her to ask, after her previous comment, or maybe she has no pride at all, who knows. I pull the disk out of my pocket and slide it over to her side of the table. Just as I pull my hand back, she reaches for it, causing our fingers to briefly touch. I retract my hand as quickly as I can without knocking over the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table.

  Fuck.

  I rub my fingers together, feeling as if I’ve been zapped. What the fuck was that? I want to be near her yet as far away as possible at the same time. What is it about this woman? She’s a cop, for fuck’s sake. And she can’t stand me either. I can see the contempt in her pretty blue eyes. She doesn’t look anything like Elizabeth, but they do have the same coloring with the blond hair and blue eyes.

  Right, Elizabeth.

  I need to fuckin’ concentrate, because she is the real reason I’m here. Not anything to do with the woman sitting opposite me. She is nothing to me.

  She clears her throat, also looking uncomfortable, but then her expression goes blank. “Now tell me everything you found out. I need to know. We don’t have time to waste, I want my cousin back.”

  I realize that I don’t even know her name.

  “What’s your name?” I ask, leaning back in my seat.

  She licks her lips, then says, “Johanna.”

  Johanna, I repeat in my head, then lean forward and tell her everything she needs to know.

  FOUR

  Johanna

  EVER since my cousin went missing, I’ve been a wreck. I wonder if people can tell. I’m barely holding on, but I know that I need to stay strong, that everyone is looking to me with hope in their eyes, like I’m their last chance of finding her.

  I have to find her.

  I don’t know why we need a biker working wit
h us, but at this point I’ll take any help I can get. Is he here because of the supposed biker connection to her disappearance? And if so, wouldn’t he side with the bikers? I’m curious about the man sitting across from me. Not only have I never seen a biker so good-looking, I’ve never seen any man so striking. He’s tall, extremely so. I wonder if he ever played basketball. Dark, thick hair tied at his nape, bright hazel eyes framed in thick dark lashes. Lashes wasted on a boy. He runs his hand across the stubble on his cheeks as I realize I haven’t paid any attention to the last thing he said.

  I clear my throat and respond to the last thing I remember. “I’ll see if anyone reported another girl missing. We might have to wait another twenty-four hours though. I’ll alert the police that the bar might be being used to lure women into whatever they are doing with them. I really hope we can stop this before it happens again.”

  The thought of my cousin missing makes it hard for me to breathe. What was she doing at that stupid biker bar? It seems so out of character for her. Elizabeth hardly even drank.

  While we don’t see each other that often, Elizabeth and I are still pretty close, our whole family is, and her disappearance has been hard on everyone. Whenever we have a problem, we call each other to vent. When I’m down, she cheers me up, and vice versa. She’s more like a sister to me than anything, since I’m an only child, and we’ve shared a lot of memories together.

  I remember when I visited her over the holidays one year, I think I was about seven. We were playing on the playground with a few other kids, and one of the little boys pushed Elizabeth down because she wouldn’t get off the swing. Without thinking, I rushed over to the boy and punched him in the face. Blood started gushing from his nose. I helped Elizabeth up and pulled her into me, protecting her, always protecting her. For as long as I can remember.

  Where is she?

  I’ve been a cop for the last four years, just like my mother before me, and I’ve seen things that will haunt me in my dreams forever. However, when something like this happens to you personally, you get to feel firsthand how the people you usually try to help feel, and it’s unlike any pain I’ve ever known. The helplessness, the worry. I can’t sleep; I can’t eat; I keep playing out different scenarios in my head. I keep dreaming about her, calling out for help, and I’m trying but I can’t save her. I need to save her. I keep telling myself that I’m not doing enough, that I need to push more, try harder. How can I be okay knowing that she’s out there, going through god knows what?