He stands up, the bag rustling as he grabs it tighter. “So what? I just leave?”
“We had our first meeting, that’s enough for today,” I say and he scoffs. “I’ll make sure your paperwork is filed or whatever.”
“Not a very productive meeting,” he says.
“Productive enough,” I say. “And I’ll see you on Monday morning. Nine AM.”
He looks like he wants to talk more, a lot more.
To prevent it, I stride out of the office and to the main door, hoping he’ll follow. He does, the trash bag he’s carrying rustling.
“Until Monday then,” he says dryly at the front door and I just nod and close it firmly behind him as soon as he steps through it.
The coffee I started brewing is done and over done and my whole office now smells like one giant coffee stain. I turn off the machine then collapse onto the sofa.
I have no idea how to proceed with this guy. Or whether I even want to try at all. For the first time since I embarked on this mission of helping trafficked women, and avenging my sister, I feel like the challenge before me is too hard. Impossible even. Why now? Why just as I got so close to finding the people who took her?
Why?
Because I can’t stoop to his level. I can’t be a conniving, manipulative monster just to get what I want. And because I can’t stand to look into his kind eyes. They hide a monster. And they hide it well.
Chance
So, Nic is a girl. And a damn fine one.
That’s more or all that was going through my mind as we spoke, so I didn’t even notice the exact point when it became clear she fucking hates my guts. But there was no pretending otherwise by the time she slammed the office door in my face.
Going there today I didn’t even dare dream I’d only have to stay for less than an hour. Now I don’t know what the fuck happens next. Do I just go straight to jail if I can’t do my community service?
How’s that for fucking everything up less than an hour after my father and Cross told me I was out of second chances? They didn’t use those exact words, but the meaning behind what they actually said was still very loud and clear.
But the absolute worst part about it is Veronica herself. Her damn dark chocolate brown hair falling down her shoulders and over her perfect firm breasts in long waves just how I like it. Or her huge blue eyes as she looked at me. The first time our eyes met. Afterwards they were filled with more contempt than I’ve ever seen in anyone’s when they looked at me. And I have no idea why.
Probably because she sees me as a convict, a person who spends his time putting those women she’s trying to save into a situation where they have to be. Whatever. It pissed me off, but if she won’t take my word for it, there’s not much I can do to prove I’m telling the truth.
When I first saw her, I thought one thousand hours with her will never be enough. Now I’m think each minute might feel that long.
Maybe I can ask for a transfer?
But that thought just made me laugh. What am I gonna do? Walk up to the judge and ask to be sent to jail? My mother would probably have a heart attack if that happened.
So at three PM, I suddenly had the whole day to myself again. I couldn’t go back to the clubhouse or Sanctuary, since too many people know where I’m supposed to be spending my afternoon today, so my original plan of riding out to the beach seemed like a good idea again. I was halfway to the ocean when Hunter reminded me that Harper is playing her first semi-serious gig today at Treetop festival and I better not miss it. Good thing he’s always so on top of everything.
So here I am, walking through the thick, ancient redwood forest not far from Sanctuary towards a clearing where the sound of a fast and angry rock song deafens me. At a guess, I’d say about five hundred people are crammed around the slightly raised wooden stage awash with alternating green, white, purple and red lights and the crowd swaying and moshing to the music. About five hundred more are scattered around, drinking and talking by tall tables held upright by wooden stakes driven deep into the ground.
I’ve been coming to this festival or indie music since I was a teenager and it seems to grow in popularity every year. There’s three bars this year, each inside a trailer painted to resemble the forest around me. The theme this year seems to be forest creatures, because most of the waitresses having trouble finding their way through the crowd to serve the drinks are all dressed in skimpy, flowing white dresses like a bunch of nymphs. But I’ve seen people dressed as gnomes too, and several others dressed as forest animals. Though that could’ve been just random furries.
Harper is standing at the side of the stage, talking to Hunter and his cousin, Summer. No matter what color light is illuminating the stage, her face remains pale green and the expression on her face reminds me of something I might see on a cornered animal. In other words, she looks nervous as hell. I have no idea why she should be. She’s an amazing singer and her songs just have this way of touching something deep inside you. Maybe I’ll tell her that when I go wish her luck.
Playing this festival has been a dream of hers for years, ever since she picked up the guitar and wrote her first song. She’s worked hard at getting where she is with her music and she’s done it on pure talent. She has quite a following on the indie scene these days. Most of that following comes from her YouTube channel so her fame is totally deserved. She has nothing to worry about and I’ll tell her that too.
But first I should go say hello to her father, Scar, who has his arm around Harper’s mom Lynn and is alternating between watching his daughter and the stage, an almost identical look of anxiety on his scared face as the one on Harper’s. Scar is one of the top execs at the MC, and he’s in charge of all the torture that needs to happen to get information from reluctant informants, or to punish those that need to be punished. His badly scarred face is the last thing a lot of bad people see and he’s still feared far and wide. But there’s none of that guy in him tonight.
“Looking forward to the show?” I ask as I walk up to him. “I sure am.”
“I can’t wait,” Scar replies. “But Harper looks like she’s about to puke.”
“Stop it, she’s fine,” Lynn retorts. “Just a little stage fright, but she’ll get over it.”
Harper’s mother used to be a beauty queen once upon a time, and Harper inherited all her good looks and then some. But she has her father’s character, no two ways about that, so I have no doubt she’ll power thorough her stage fright of whatever is gripping her. People often wonder how a gorgeous woman like Lynn ended up with a scary biker with half his face mangled by a jagged knife scar, but it’s really very simple. She found herself the victim of the exact same bad shit my new found hater Veronica is trying to prevent. Scar, with the help of Cross, my father and a couple of others saved her. Maybe if I told Veronica that she wouldn’t look at me with quite so much contempt. But I’m not gonna, because she can hate me all she wants. I don’t care.
“She’s gonna do just fine, she was born for this,” I tell them.
“You might wanna go tell her that,” Scar says. “I think she’s about to go on.”
Harper, who is now alone, is alternating between glancing at me and over her shoulder to the backstage area like she has to leave soon. I jog over to her.
“Is it time?” I ask and she turns a couple of shades greener instead of answering.
“Come on, you got this,” I say. “You’ve sure practiced enough.”
Growing up, she never went anywhere without her guitar and given any excuse to sing, she sang.
“I didn’t expect there to be so many people,” she says in a low, husky voice. “What was I thinking? What if I’m up there and nothing comes out of my mouth? That’s a real possibility with how nervous I am.”
She’s not just saying that, she really means it. I can see it clearly in the doe-in-the-headlights look on her face.
“Then you’ll just wave to everyone and get off the stage, I guess.” I grin as I say it, but she rolls her eyes and looks thoroughly disgusted at my attempt at a joke, so I clear my throat and try again.
“Just imagine you’re back at the forest around Sanctuary,” I tell her. “You never had any problem singing there. So, there’s a few more people here, so what?”
She nods, scans the crowd again and her face turns yet greener. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but I wish Jax was here.”
Now I’m nauseated too. And probably just as green in the face as she is.
“How is he?” she asks, turning back at me.
How does she think he is? He’s stuck in prison and I should be there with him.
“On second thought, don’t answer that,” she says in a firmer, harsher-even, voice. “He’s made his bed and he’s welcome to lie in it.”
Yup, she’s her father’s daughter alright. Ice cold ruthless when she needs to be. But I’ve long since vowed to stay the hell out of the relationship between Harper and Jax, which has been going on and off for years. Jax hurt her a lot when he just up and left, but I know he still loves her, because he never talks about her.
“I’m sure he misses you too,” I say, messing up my vow in one fell swoop.
“Yeah, right,” she says. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s the past.”
I feel someone rush up behind me like of gust of strong, warm wind and the next moment, Veronica’s angry, contempt-filled eyes are locked on mine.
“Are you all right?” she asks Harper breathlessly. “Is he bothering you?”
“What? No.” Harper looks confused as hell as she looks at her, and then back at the stage where the band that was just playing is bowing to the audience.
She gives me a quick hug. “I have to go on. Thank you for being here, Chance. It means a lot to me.”
Then she jogs towards the back of the stage before I can say anything, her long hair streaming behind her.
“What is your problem, Veronica?” I ask harshly as I turn back to her. She’s still glaring at me.
“Are you here working? As in, is she supposed to be your next victim?” she asks.
“Are you high?” I ask since I have no idea where to begin answering her questions.
Plus, she looks hot as hell when she’s angry. Her cheeks are flushed and her face is positively glowing gold as she glares at me with her big eyes that are kinda the next best thing to sitting on the beach and watching a storm roll in.
She’s wearing an interesting tight black dress slashed with red, green and purple that covers her from her neck to her knees but still somehow manages to show off her amazing figure in all its hotness. And she’s done something to her hair to makes it even more wavy, which is exactly how I like it. Now if I could just figure out how to stop her from hating me.
“That woman is a very talented singer and she seemed very uncomfortable speaking to you. Were you trying to lure her away? It sure looked that way,” she says.
“She looked uncomfortable, because she’s about to perform for all these people and she’s nervous as hell.” The sentence is punctuated by a roar of applause that follows Harper as she walks up on the stage. She no longer looks green in the face. She looks like she was born to be up there. Veronica is still looking at me like she wants to scratch my eyes out.
“And not that I need to tell you this, but Harper is like a sister to me. And now I’d like to enjoy her concert,” I say and have trouble tearing my eyes away from hers.
The raging storm in them is subsiding, replaced by confusion and possibly even regret. But I have no time for this.
So I just turn my back on her and stride off to go stand with Hunter, Summer and a bunch of our other brothers, sisters and cousins. I didn’t even want to wait for her to say anything more. It would just make me lose it, I know it would.
“What was that all about?” Hunter asks as I join him, because of course he would notice that whole exchange. Veronica is still standing where I left her, glancing back at me at, but mostly watching Harper up on stage and looking kind of deflated.
“That was the woman I’m serving my sentence with,” I say. “And she hates my guts.”
“That much was clear even from far away,” he says and claps me on the back. “But I’m sure you’ll manage to win her over.”
“I’m not,” I mutter.
“You will,” he says. “She’s just your type for one thing, feisty and gorgeous. And clearly passionate.”
“If by that you mean bitchy, then you’re completely right,” I retort. But now I want to stop talking about Veronica.
Harper’s sultry voice is filling the clearing. As always, it has the power to make all other sounds fade to the background. On a deeper level it does the same with everything that I’ve been so worried about all day too. Including Veronica.
For once, Hunter couldn’t be more wrong. I’ll never win her over. Because I’m not even gonna try to.
* * *
Veronica
“What happened?” Ariel asked me breathlessly when I came back to join her right at the fence separating the stage from the crowd.
That same question has been echoing in my mind, growing louder and more desperate.
“Nothing. I just told her to be careful with him. Enjoy the show,” I tell her with a smile I have to totally force.
She does look up at the stage, but I can see it in her face that she’s scared and anxious now. And it’s all my fault. As always.
Lana had sent Ariel a text inviting her to this concert tonight and Ariel jumped at the chance to see her favorite singer perform live. I really didn’t want to come, but I couldn’t say no to my sister. Her anxiety about being in large crowds of people, especially at night, and especially when those people are high or drunk, didn’t start rearing its nasty head until we arrived at the parking lot about five hundred yards from this clearing. She was shaking by the time we reached the stage and by then even Lana looked worried about her. But we’re here with ten of our friends, half of them guys, one of those guys Liam, and we haven’t left Ariel’s side. Except when I went to warn Ariel’s favorite singer to stay away from Chance. I still think I was right to do that, despite how weird that exchange ended up being, but I wish I hadn’t scared my sister so much in the process.
Harper’s songs helped her find a way out of the blackest depths of depression, and she’s been a fanatic fan of hers ever since she found her about a year and a half ago. But until tonight, Harper has only ever performed at small bars and my sister starts shaking at the mere thought of going into one of those places. I don’t know what her captors made her do in places like that, because she can’t bring herself to tell me, or anyone other than her therapist, for that matter, but I can imagine and I really, really don’t want to. Though I do. All the time.
Tonight, with Harper playing at an outdoor concert, and all of us going, Ariel thought she could handle it. And she was handling it until I caused that scene. She’d had a Long Island Iced Tea and was growing visibly calmer by the time I saw Chance stride into the clearing and go straight for the meanest looking biker in the audience—a guy in his late fifties, maybe early sixties, with a nasty scar across one side of his face and a very beautiful older woman on his arm.
As soon as I saw that, I went into a tirade about how I bet that woman doesn’t want to be here, and that he has to be forcing her in some way. Why else would a woman like that consent to touch a scary looking guy like that?
And when I saw Chance make a beeline for Harper right after speaking to that scarred biker, I couldn’t think clearly anymore.
It looked like he had ordered Chance to go chat her up. I mean, a festival attended by this many people, most of them young and high is a prime hunting ground for predators like them. I was sure Chance had gone to talk to her as a first step in grooming her and the thought of that poor, sensitive, beautiful singer ending up in captivity in some dingy, scary, dirty place made me physically sick.
There were a bunch of other bikers in the audience when we arrived and the number just kept growing as Harper’s set approached. A few of them had gone to speak to Harper before Chance even arrived. Probably because they’re all in on it.
“Do you really think he’s trying to abduct Harper?” my sister had asked in a shaky, broken voice after my tirade about Chance’s real motivations for being here tonight, which I absolutely should’ve kept to myself. I really do try not to bring up that subject in any way shape or form when Ariel is around. She’s trying so hard to live a normal life.
But one way or another, I always manage to do it. Mostly because it’s all I think about 24/7. But tonight it’s because of Chance and the callous way he’s going around ruining women’s lives.
So I didn’t even answer my sister, I just rushed over to warn Harper and give him a piece of my mind.
His answers made no damn sense. How can she be like a sister to him? I’m sure he was lying to me, but the red lights from the stage made his hair and even his eyes look like they were filled with fire that I was almost sure he was telling me the truth.
He is definitely the hottest guy I’ve ever met. And the only one who can totally disarm me just by looking at me for too long. Damn him. I bet he’s aware of his effect on women and works on honing it too.
Harper thought I was crazy, that much was clear from the way she looked at me when I warned her to stay away from him. And then Chance just walked away too.
Now I feel like I’ve been doused with ice cold water and I don’t even know why.
“You know, the more I look at them the more I think I saw a picture of Harper and that guy on her Instagram once,” Ariel leans in to whisper in my ear. “And that woman, the one with the old biker, I think that’s her mom.”
Her voice is still shaky and broken. She’s not enjoying the concert she conquered so much fear and anxiety to attend. “Maybe she’s not in any danger from them.”
She sounds so hopeful as she says it that my heart just melts into a sticky mess of sadness and regret in my chest. And I wish my mind wasn’t now racing with thoughts about Harper being involved with the monsters that destroyed my little sister’s life.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders and hug her tight, ignoring those thoughts as hard as I can.
“I’m sure you’re right. I over-reacted, you know how I get.”
She smiles faintly. “Yes, if there’s a woman to save from being abducted you’re right there saving her. You’re a hero. The way you got in that guy’s face… I wish I could do that.”
I hug her even tighter because I don’t trust myself to speak. The day will come when my sister is well enough, and strong enough to confront her attackers with even more courage than I ever had. Finding the men who took her and bringing them to justice will go a long way towards that.
So as much as I can’t stand the sight of Chance and as much as it repulses me to look into his face and listen to his lies, I will. Because he will bring my sister the justice she deserves so much.
“Come on, you two, you’re missing the concert,” Lana says loudly, sticking her head between ours.
She tried to stop me from blowing up at Chance, but she had no hope of being successful.
“She’s right,” I say and give my sister one more tight squeeze before releasing her. “Enjoy the concert. Harper really has the most amazing voice.”
The lyrics are deep and complicated too, like a poem set to music, blending with it seamlessly and perfectly.
Ariel turns to the stage and soon I can literally see the fear and anxiety start to melt from her face. I wish I could just get lost in the music too. But there was no chance of that happening tonight, not with Chance glancing at me almost as often as he looked at Harper on the stage. He looks angry and offended.
What if getting in his face made him a danger to me? Or worse, to my little sister? Some hero I am.
But somehow, Harper’s voice douses those panicked thoughts before they even fully erupt. And I’m more than happy to give into that magic. For tonight, at least.