Page 37 of Her Biker Daddy

“She found photos of these six. Photos that no fourteen year old should ever find,” he adds, and I groan, praying I’m not right.

“They were sex photos, weren’t they? The chief and his friends doing awful things to men in them, I’d guess,” I question.

“I’m sure she wishes that’s all they were, but no. She said the photos were of him and several of his friends, different ones with different men, but the chief was in all of them. They were holding up the men’s dismembered heads like it was a deer instead of a human,” Cash says, and I see Victors barely catch himself in time before he upchucks everywhere. One of the Keeper’s isn’t quite as lucky, but he thankfully makes it into the hallway before it comes out.

“And all of these men were gay?” Law questions, his voice dark and steely, matching the fury pounding through me that my girl,mylittle girl had to see something that vile when she was still a child. It makes me thankful that I can be there for her, remove the dark stains that were her childhood and give her happy memories to replace it when we’re in our playroom and I swear to god, I’m going to erase every last one of them so she only knows that bliss she finds in there with her daddy.

“Yeah, she knew I sometimes met guys online, and she wanted me to know to be extra careful with anyone that might claim to be from around here, because it could be the chief. We were already discussing as a club what to do about the mayor and the police, and we figured if the chief of police was discovered to be a serial killer, the Governor would have to send someone else in to deal with the entire department. Which would get them off our backs and let us deal with the mayor separately,” Cash continues. “So, I got a separate phone, set up a fake account, used photoshopped pictures so he wouldn’t possibly recognize me, and found his account he’s currently using. The shit he writes…he’s either got someone writing it for him or he’s the biggest closet-case piece of garbage I’ve ever met.”

“You’ve been communicating with him this whole time?” I ask and he nods. “Since Everly was taken?”

“Yeah, I figured he was in on it and if there was any time to try and draw him out, it was now,” Cash answers. “He’s hinted at a meet up several times, most of them I’ve play off, but he asked the night before Everly was taken and I hadn’t responded yet. I wrote back to him last night that I might be able to make it this weekend if he was still interested. He suggested tonight almost immediately but I’ve not given the final yes to get a place and time, but I can if it’ll get us closer to getting Everly back.”

“Where he’ll be planning to do the same thing to you with his buddies as the others. They just won’t know that we’re there as well, and we can counter their plan to jump you,” I state, and he nods.

“No,” Law says, pulling Cash’s attention back to him and off me.

“What?” Cash questions.

“I said no. You’re not doing it. It’s too dangerous,” Law snaps, his hand slamming down on the desk surprising the other Keepers in the room it seems with the outburst.

“He’s an adult and a member of this club, it’s his decision,” I warn the other man.

“If it was Everly you’d be saying the same damn thing,” Law fumes, and I drop my eyes, doing my best to keep the smile off my face. Seems he’s finally made up his mind about making Cash his rather than merely playing with his feelings still.

“It has to be me,” Cash says calmly, moving closer to him, and Law’s hand snakes out, grabbing onto the back of his neck, holding him tight. “There’s no way they’re going to show themselves unless they see me. He may not know the face entirely, but the photos showed enough of my body that no one else will be able to go in instead. Anyone that’s even close to my size and build has way too many tattoos. He’d sense it’s a setup and bail.”

“What’s to say he doesn’t see you, recognize you, sense it’s a setup, shoots you and still bails?” Law returns, as the others wisely keep their mouths shut.

“Because very few people around town know I’m part of the club to start. Yeah, I ride a bike, but I rarely wear a leather jacket or even my cut when I go into town. When I do wear them on rides, I have a full head helmet on, and no one ever sees my face. Even if he does recognize me and puts me together with the club, he’s likely to be even more anxious to come after me, because he’s expecting a horny gay boy to show up wanting to get fucked. He has no idea I know it’s him, know what he does because he doesn’t show his face online. Not once in any of the photos does he show his face and since the phone is a burner, it’s not tied to me or the club. Even if he tried to trace it, the closest he’d get is to the local tower nearest to the town’s single gay bar,” Cash says, holding Law’s gaze until the man pulls him in closer and kisses him the way we’ve been expecting since day one.

“Come on brother, we’ve got shit to get mapped out if we’re going to do this tonight,” Knuckles says breaking them apart finally.

“You and I are going to have a conversation when we’re back here about keeping things from me, especially when they involve talking toothermen,” Law warns him before turning towards Knuckles. “You bring any of those undershirts we ripped off?”

“The bullet proof ones? Yeah I think we’ve got a couple in with the rest of the equipment,” Knuckles states.

“Get him one.”

“They’d spot one a mile away,” Cash says shaking his head.

“Not these. They’re the thinnest ones we’ve ever seen, they have an extremely thin plate, and the Kevlar is woven into the material as well. It may not completely stop a bullet, but it’ll keep you alive and they’re only noticeable up close. Very close,” Rambo adds and while they head off to get things together, Cash sends the message to Thatcher about the meet.

I hate having to wait for a response and the minutes tick past, my worry about what they’re doing to Everly growing with each passing one. I almost jump when the phone finally goes off and Cash shows me the message with the time and place, scheduled for barely two hours from now. The location is deep in the woods outside of town, but it’ll only take thirty minutes to get there. That gives us around an hour to get the snipers in place. The rest of us will have to come in behind them.

We head out, parking bikes and the trucks far enough away on the other side from where the meet is that they won’t be seen. Forty minutes before the meet time, we get word from the snipers where the four men are lying in wait, and I send out our own guys to make their way through the woods so they can come up on their blinds. They won’t draw closer until Cash heads in on his bike so the engine will cover their footsteps, and we send Stealth back to cover Thatcher. We need him alive, at least for now, and if I got my hands on him, I can’t guarantee I’d stop myself from doing him in.

I know Law is likely to be in the same boat, and I hold him back from joining the others with a firm shake of the head. “No, you’re too emotionally attached to this. So am I. You’d shoot first if he laid a hand on Cash before we got him subdued and I can’t let that happen. Not yet.”

“I get first shot at him once we have news on Everly,” Law states and I nod, passing the information along to the others to remind them to hit first, shoot later, when it came to Thatcher.

We stay with the truck, and don’t approach until Cash pulls his bike in, leaving the engine revving for an extra minute to let everyone get closer. He’s on an open mic and we hear everything as he approaches Thatcher. He stops short when he recognizes the chief of police but it takes him longer to recognize Cash, and before he gets within five feet, Stealth has him in a headlock, which brings his buddies out to help, but each one is picked off one-by-one until only Thatcher is left alive.

Law and I get out of the truck, and I’m jealous as hell seeing him able to kiss Cash while I’m still missing Everly, but it won’t be for long.

“What the fuck is this?” Thatcher demands as Knuckles, Rambo and Stealth have him on his knees.

“Thought you were going to do some gay bashing, were you?” I question, dumping out the bag with all of the weapons they brought, and I pick up a baseball bat, testing it’s heft with a low swing towards the bastard. I pull it back right before it’d hit him in the gut, enjoying the wince it pulls from him. “Yeah, we were onto you. Set you up and you completely missed it. I guess that’s because serial killers on the hunt can’t think of anything else. Whereas a guy like me that might have more than three kills to his name, doesn’t go hunting for a kill, only handles a problem when it arises and right now…we’ve got a hell of a problem.”

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