Page 34 of Toxic Biker

I nod, trying to figure in how him being kidnapped fits to him making people money. Shouldn’t it be the opposite with the clients buying you shit for making them rich?

“It wasn’t until I started todomy job that I realized they’re the cartel. Then, it was like a personal addiction. I couldn’t stop myself from digging, deep diving into everything I could find of theirs. I just had to know where their money was coming from, after alI, I was investing it and moving it where it needed to be so my ass was essentially on the line. Anyway, I started finding stuff. None of it added up, connections to other countries, an abundance of unexplainable assets, it was just one big pile of red flags that they have buried into the nightclubs.”

I nod. Not surprised. I mean, it’s the cartel, of course, shit doesn’t add up. We sling enough dope out of the club, ours isn’t exactly adding up perfectly, either.

“When I started researching some of the corporations and digging through the shadow accounts, I realized it was the cartel investing their money made from drugs, the sex trade, the slave trade, the black market…all of it – everything into one big cesspool of proof, I’d uncovered. I spoke to Dad about it and told him I was dropping the account. He shocked me by saying I couldn’t, that they’d kill me if they had any idea I knew what they had their hands into. I respect my father, I always have, but this was different.”

I nod, agreeing and submerged in all these new details coming to light. Why didn’t he tell me this on the phone? He said he was worried Seth was possibly into drugs, but it sounds like he was really covering his ass on what his son had uncovered.

“I didn’t listen and took a meeting with them. I showed up at the nightclub like we’d planned. They invited me several times before and when I heard they’d be in Dallas, I figured it was the perfect time for me to finally drop in. I showed up, met with them and made up a bunch of untrue ‘facts’ about their accounts, basically telling them the market wouldn’t meet their needs, that we were already losing a big chunk of their money.”

He takes a breath, sips some water, then admits, “I told them I would make sure they saw a return on the number they were missing from their accounts, and if not, I would deposit it in good faith. It was a lie. I’d put that money into a fundraiser with all the evidence of where it came from up for safekeeping. I was trying to buy more time so I could get myself, Lacey, and my parents out of the country and into hiding while I brought the authorities in. I knew it was much bigger than me and I’d end up dead if I moved too quickly.”

“They knew you were lying.” I state, starting to piece it all together and the threats to Lacey.

He nods. “They don’t know I was planning to give the evidence to the authorities.”

“And the money? You didn’t try offering it up if they let you go?”

His eyes flick away as he carefully shakes his head. He’s still pretty fucked up and the pain pills will only get him so far. “No. I wanted that money set aside so if the authorities found anyone from these dealings, they’d have something.”

“You were going to give the cartel money to the victims? The cops wouldn’t have allowed it.”

“It’s the victim’s money, no one else! And the police wouldn’t have known.”

“How? You said you put it into a fund, the cops dig around.”

“I did, but it’s in an offshore account, so no one in the States would know about it or monitor the money.”

My brows are basically in my hairline at this point as I process the depths he went to and just how smart my childhood best friend ended up being. Well, smart and dumb all at the same time. “You never should’ve met with them in person.”

“I thought it’d make me look not guilty if I showed up to discuss their accounts like there was nothing wrong.”

“Nope, just made you look dumb.”

He glares, but with his two black eyes, one still not open all the way, it doesn’t hold the same effect. He just looks like he was stung by a couple bees and lost the fight. Poor dude.

Chapter 17

I told the stars about you. - d.j

Lacey

Watching Seth heal has been both heartbreaking and inspiring. Days pass and it seems like nothing changes, but then the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months. His road to recovery is slower than he wants, and his frustration breaks my heart each time he has to fight another battle when they all seem to be uphill for him.

One thing that has changed is my smart, easy-going brother is gone. In his place is a serious, usually grouchy man, who is hell bent on getting the cartel busted. Not an easy feat considering they’re a massive criminal organization and my brother was a smarty pants investor. He should’ve been working for the FBI or somewhere as equally accessible to busting people like the ones who captured him. That’s another thing, he won’t discuss what happened to him. I only know the bits Asher has shared with me and even he’s limited on what he knows. My brother won’t tell anyone what they did to him, only that he has to figure out a way to save the people they’ve hurt.

He's become friendly with Baker’s daughter, Sam. She’s his age, a successful nurse, and super nice. She’s been taking care of him and checking up on him here regularly. Whiskey’s doctor friend was stopping by weekly for the first two months, but those visits have become less frequent. She said the rest of Seth’s healing was up to him and how far he wants to take it. She recommended he see a psychiatrist regularly as well as go to a physical therapy center.

Seth has the money, and even if he didn’t, my father does, but so far, he’s refused any further help. If the nurse doesn’t work with him, he remains seated, glued to his laptop. He’s constantly researching and digging around to see if he can find anything out or remotely hurt the cartel. It’s been a lost cause for the most part so far.

Blow’s ol’ lady has probably been the best asset my brother’s had at getting any answers, as well as being able to provide some information. Asher says the motorcycle club remains out of that part, but what do I know. The Royal Bastards Motorcycle Club’s business is not mine and it’s been made very clear. It angered me at first, but I’ve come to realize it’s not personal in the slightest, it’s simply the way things are done around here. Once I was able to accept that, it didn’t offend me anymore.

“How is he today?” I ask Asher after he’s left Seth’s side.

We’re outside, soaking up the Texas sun, even though it’s the ‘ber months. In Texas it doesn’t feel like fall until November, so October is the perfect weather to chill outside and enjoy the beautiful parts of the state. I’ve lived here my entire life and have loved it to the point I can’t imagine moving elsewhere.

He shrugs, pulling me to sit between his spread thighs. One thing I’ve learned about Asher over the past few months we’ve been together is that he doesn’t like me to leave his sight and if we’re in the same room, he has to be touching me somehow. Me being able to work remotely most of the time has become one of his favorite things about my job. In the beginning, he would throw a fit, worrying over my safety each week when it came time for me to go into work, so we’ve developed a routine. Now, he takes me to work and picks me up on those days. He’ll also stop in, bringing me lunch to eat with me. He also texts several times throughout the day to check in. Between him and Seth, one of them always knows where I am. I suppose it would bother other people but after witnessing how badly Seth was hurt, I can understand their worry for my safety.

---