Page 171 of Burning Ember
The truth doesn’t always set the world right. Sometimes it wakes you from a dream you’d rather spend your whole life living.
MAVERICK
Slamming the door to the chapel, I bite out, “What in the fuck is so important?” My gaze travels over Whiz who’s holding a manila folder in his hand, and then Taz standing in front of a large brushed metal HOC emblem that hangs on the wall. His arms are crossed and he’s wearing an expression I’ve come to know well. His head is locked on a mark and he’s ready to do what he does best, make whatever problem the club hasdisappear.
The door reopens and Edge and Griz walk in. “What’s this about?” Edge asks me.
“That’s what I’m here to find out.” I motion for Whiz to get on with it.
“You’re going to want to sit down,” he says.
As a hollow feeling begins to build in my gut, I take my chair and feel the worn leather give me what comfort it can, though I’ve been ill at ease since I left Ember. Edge sits with one thigh on the table to my left, and Griz in the seat to my right. After walking around the table, Whiz lays the folder in front of me. He opens it to a picture of Ember on the arm of another man.
I knew eventually I’d have to see something like this, but it’s still a blow all the same.
I lean forward and pick up the photo. It’s her, only a completely different version of her.
Her hair is slicked and pulled back into a low ponytail, not one hair out of place. She’s wearing jewelry, and a conservative white and navy capped sleeved dress. She looks polished and elegant, and nothing like the woman that was wrapped around me a few minutes ago.
I don’t like this look on her. I don’t like it one fucking bit.
My eyes shift to her ex. The asshole that raped her and held her against her will. I memorize every detail of his pretty-boy face, his ice blue eyes, bone structure, and even his fake approachable smile. He’s tall, younger than me, and clean cut. He wears a charcoal suit, tailored to fit his frame and expensive. Everything about him screams money. His posture, clothes, and even the gold watch peeking out from his shirtsleeve.
“You wanted me to dig and find everything I could on your girl’s ex,” Whiz starts.
Shifting in my chair, I push down the darkness rising higher inside me the longer I stare at the picture. “Yeah.”
“Well, I dug. But I found out something you’re not going to like. Whiz flips over news article after news article about her going missing and the fire. I grab one of the articles and do a quick read through. ‘Senator McTearney Helps Son Search for Missing Girlfriend’ is the headline. For a few minutes, I scan through the other articles, besides the most recent one that says they’ve ruled the fire as an accident due to a gas leak; they all say pretty much the same thing.
“I know all this already.” I shove the file back at him.
“There’s more.”
Taz speaks up. “I told Whiz to look into your girl when you started showin’ interest,” Taz confesses. “But we didn’t have much to go on. Didn’t know her name or where she was from, until you told Whiz about the fire and this ex of hers.”
My jaw hardens and I shoot him a dirty look. “That’s what this is about? You found some dirt on her and couldn’t wait to share it?” To Whiz, I snap, “Did you or did you not check into this Warner guy?”
“It’s more than dirt, brother. It’s a fuckin’ mole hill of shit.”
“Is this really somethin’ Griz and I need to hear?” Edge cuts Taz off. He’s about as pleased at his night being interrupted as I am.
“This touches the whole club.” Taz comes closer and pushes the file back toward me. He searches through the documents until he comes to a birth certificate and hands it to me. “Look at her name.”
I snatch the paper from his hands and scan her birth certificate. I read her full name out loud, “Ember Dee Pierce.” I hoard these additional slivers of information about her like their precious jewels I’m collecting. Her full name. August 12th, her birthday, only a couple of days before she showed up at the clubhouse. Her mother’s name is Tessa Owens. Father, nothing listed, which matches what she told me.
There’s nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing incriminating either.
Taz repeats “Dee Pierce” like it’s a revelation.
Griz noticeably freezes next to me. After a few seconds, he sits up with interest, and sorts through the papers. He takes one, his eyes skim over it. Edge leans over the folder and grabs another, does the same.
“What am I missin’?” Raising my head, I peer at each one of them, take in their dower expressions.
“Show ’em,” Taz orders the prospect.
Whiz pulls additional photos from the back of the folder. He places them beside Ember’s picture with her ex. The first isn’t of her, but a face I’ve seen enough of the last two days that I don’t care to see more than I have to. The the second man, I’d prefer never to see again in my lifetime.
Confusion pinballs around in my brain.Why in the ever-loving-fuck is he showing me these?Then something clicks, shifts inside my head. The last name Pierce. The shape of Deed’s—the GB we call Sonny Psycho—cheekbones. Something in Pappy’s green eyes.
