Page 49 of StoryTeller's Tale

Prez just stares as though he’s recalculating in his head. “We’ve two witnesses who knew that the Wretched Soulz were involved.”

Slugger sits forward. “I’ve got my ear to the ground. Not sure whether Knuckles was running his own operation, or whether it was part of a larger network. So far, there’s been no chatter about half of one of their chapters being taken out.”

“You think Knuckles might have gone rogue?”

Slugger shakes his head. “It’s a hope, but I haven’t stayed alive this long by being optimistic. We act as if we’ve taken the whole fuckin’ Dominators on and prepare for retaliation.”

“Won’t make much difference.” Bull snorts. “The relationship between our clubs couldn’t be much worse.”

Now Slugger’s head changes direction, this time moving up, then down. Then, his eyes focus on me. “It’s him I’m most worried about.”

Me?I frown.

Prez nods as if this isn’t news to him. “Yeah. If they go after anyone, it will be StoryTeller, which is why we’ve got you this, Brother.”

A brand-new leather vest, styled like the one I used to own, is sent down the table toward me. I turn it over. Frowning, I ask, “You run out of nomad patches? I don’t mind waiting, Prez.” The look in his eyes tells me this is no mistake. I groan. “You can’t fuckin’ mean this?”

Prez shrugs. “Under the circumstances, we reckon it would be best to keep you close to home.” His voice drops an octave. “Put the damn thing on, ST.”

I stare at the offending object, then stand, my chair rattling with the force that I used to get to my feet. Angrily, I slip into my new cut, feeling the unfamiliar stiffness of the untried leather. But it’s not that that bothers me so much as the fucking rocker that’s replaced my nomad patch. Now I’ve one that firmly states I’m a member of the Arizona club.

“Not what you wanted,” Prez acknowledges. “But it’s safe to assume you’ll have a target on your back.”

The VP backs him up. “Safest to stay where your brothers have your six.”

“What do you know?” Fire calls out. “You might even find you like us.”

I shoot him the finger, knowing this really isn’t what I wanted, but understanding they’ve got my interest at heart. They just better sort out a new mattress and better fucking digs.

Me? A permanent fixture of the club?

Legend sends a wary glance my way, but I give a slight shake of my head to show I won’t be kicking off against my new status. I’d be a fool to think I’d be safe out on the road. Knuckles knew I was a Wretched Soulz nomad, but he didn’t know what chapter I was affiliated with. Staying close to home will be the safest. But fuck, it isn’t what I want.

Prez moves on. “What’s the latest on the women?”

Legend clears his throat. “The cops picked them up and took them to the hospital to get them checked out. Once they were registered, I was able to check into their backgrounds. Carole was a hooker taken off the streets. Seems she went straight back there.”

That doesn’t surprise me. She’d seemed better able to cope, probably as she already knew the worst that men could do.

“Angie and Leah…” Legend continues. “Were apparently good girls snatched one way or another. They’re back with their parents.”

And hopefully getting therapy. Tons of it.

“They need anything?” As it’s Beard who asks and he’s our treasurer, he’ll be thinking of financial support.

Legend shakes his head. “They come from good families who don’t seem to be hurting.”

A spark of anger goes through me, remembering that Sheri had walked away thinking we didn’t give a damn about the women we’d rescued. We do care, as Legend’s checking up shows.

“Kelly?” I ask, remembering the final name.

Legend brushes a hand over his face, and he grimaces. “Not good, Bro.” When his eyes meet mine, I can tell by his expression, her story won’t have a happy ending. I raise a brow to encourage him to continue anyway. He obliges. “She checked herself out of the hospital, went home, and overdosed on painkillers.”

Motherfucker!Standing, I walk to the wall and smash my fist into it.

What if I hadn’t found that book? What if I hadn’t followed up on tracing who owned it? Sheri might have ended up the same way as Kelly, dead, either through her own actions or because someone had killed her for pleasure. Who the fuck thinks they can take people, toy with them, use them, sell them, when they are living breathing creatures with their own desires and emotions? Damn Knuckles to hell and everyone like him.

“It’s not your fault, ST.” Legit stands and puts his hand on my shoulder, not reacting when my flinch shakes him off.

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