Chapter One
Hilary Huffman closed down the microfilm machine as the weight of the world settled onto her shoulders. She threw herself into research because it busied her mind. When she was neck-deep in facts, the bitter divorce her parents were in the middle of and her loneliness remained at bay. Now everything came rushing back full force as the rickety mental dam she’d erected broke. Her career was thriving, but everything else seemed to be unraveling at the seams. Her parents’ marriage, the closeness she felt with her friends, even her own security.
With her circle coupled up, getting married and having children, she was in that odd place where she wasn’t sure what to say or how to relate. Between the tug-of-war her parents were putting her through during their divorce and her own insanity, she was barely treading water. Being in a relationship had never been a must for her. She led a full, successful and mostly joy-filled life. She loved her job as writer, had a close circle of friends and up until recently a solid family unit. Now everything was changing.
She felt the distance creeping in between her and her three closest friends keenly. Their lives were changing while hers remained the same. You got bedlam when you tossed in the havoc caused by her best friend Juliette’s deceased ex-fiance, Peter, a man so obsessed he’d made it his life’s mission to possess her. His goal had been the first domino knocked over in an array of fucked-up things. He and his three other psycho best friends formed a club based on sexual deviancy, control, manipulation and games of power.
They more than dabbled in human trafficking. They’d set up shop in the city under everyone’s noses. The names they had on the books for clients made them dangerous.
People would do anything to keep their secrets from coming out in the wash. Peter, the abusive ex of her best friend Juliette, had been murdered in a holding cell before his trial. The drama should’ve ended there. It didn’t. His partners were ruthless but loyal. They had killed him to make sure their secrets were kept, but remained determined to seek revenge. The kind of desperation and influence they shared scared the hell out of her. The men involved in the sex trafficking ring wanted to fight back with force. She preferred knowledge. Which was why she’d begun to look into Peter’s past and his companions. Safety could only be achieved with them out of the picture for good.
Specs and Gadget, the club hackers discovered the identity of the men who ran the private sex trade operation and brought it to the Lords of Mayhem. Now she was on to something even more important. She gathered her things, hefted the strap of her satchel onto her shoulder and exited the library, marveling at how quickly the time had passed. Day had yielded to night, and the moon hung high in the sky. She found her black luxury sedan and slipped inside, thanking the car gods for seat warmer. I need to bring the identity of the other girls they tortured to Specs and Gadget. The club computer specialistshad become close friends and confidants.
Their brains worked the same. I never thought I’d be living a suspense novel. She rummaged through her bag to find her phone. She wanted to make sure they had time to talk with her before she made the drive to their new complex. After the older structure had been compromised, they’d relocated to a more spacious and remote location.
Spread across many acres of woods, the base had an almost campground feel to it. More than a dozen cabins had been built close together around a main lodge. The isolation provided more protection, which meant less scrutiny and more freedom. Something they all needed desperately after being on lockdown in the smaller safe house weeks earlier. The phone slipped from her hands.
Shit. She bent down to grab the slippery rectangle. Thwack. Ping. The noise made her freeze. She frowned. What the hell? It came again. Tiny particles fell into her hair. Realization dawned. I’m being shot at. She shoved her thin frame into the cramped space between the driver’s seat and the pedals. Fear set in like rigor mortis, stiffening her limbs. Blood rushed through her veins. Her vision blackened around the edges. Her legs shook. Wet trails ran down her cheeks and dripped onto her clothing. The quiet cracks continued followed by the tinkle of glass. Please God, don’t let me die here like this.
An eternity later, the assault ended, and she cautiously lifted her head to see her surroundings. Tiny slivers of glass scraped her palms as she balanced her weight against the leather seats. People surrounded her car. Their voices were distorted and worn as if they had been recorded on a chewed cassette tape. They sounded like they were speaking from a great distance despite their proximity. She read their lips. Are you okay? She nodded dumbly. They opened the door and helped her outside. Shivering, she allowed herself to be guided back into the library where she plopped down into a chair. I’m the next target.
She covered her face with her hands and sobbed.
* * * * *
“Ma’am, can you think of any reason why someone would want to ha
rm you?” the officer asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Are you sure about that?”
Anger and indignation rose up, chasing away the fear that had held her normally sharp tongue and rendered her meek and silent. “Yes, Officer Brown, I’m positive. Is this how the police handle cases now? By blaming the victim? If so, I must say I’m not impressed. In fact, I’m quite worried that you’ll never catch the people terrorizing the law-abiding citizens of this city.”
“We can’t help you unless you tell us everything,” his partner, Officer Ryan, said.
“I did,” she said through clenched teeth. So this is what good cop, bad cop looks like in real life.
“Okay, in case you remember anything else, we’ll be leaving a card,” Officer Ryan said. She followed his gaze to the group of men standing in front of the bikes lined up in the parking lot. Her only option had been to text Specs and Gadget about what happened. She’d never been so happy to hear the sound of motorcycles in her life. The Lords of Mayhem had become her safety net. Despite their rough exteriors and less than savory business dealings, they were family. The thought sobered her. The girls aren’t the only ones changing.
Frustrated by the situation she stood. “Am I free to go now?”
“For now, but we’ll expect you down at the station tomorrow to make a full statement.”
“The interrogation I just underwent doesn’t count?” she scoffed. The policemen had been all kindness and concern until Mayhem showed up. Now they thought she was some sort of biker bunny or mule for drugs. She could see the judgment form in their eyes. It sickened her. The men behind the rash of violence were highly respected in local society. Wealthy, handsome and from good families, they could get away with murder because. They almost got away with mine. Giving the cops the cold shoulder, she walked out of the library.
The sight of the red caution tape and the CSI crew gathering glass as a flatbed truck took her car away made her weak in the knees. Reality slammed into her.
She’d grown pretty close to Gadget and Specs, so she headed in their direction. It was Hawk, who stepped away from the rest of them and blocked her progress.
“You’re riding with me.”
She looked up at the gruff voice and froze at the fierce male named Hawk. There were members who put her on edge, but none quite as much as Hawk. With his high cheekbones, bronze skin, and a strong jawline, he looked every inch the proud warrior his name suggested. She’d never had an in-depth conversation with him, but she was fairly sure he had a healthy dose of Native American blood running through his veins.
She opened her mouth to protest.
“It wasn’t a question.” He crossed his arms over his chiseled chest. His biceps flexed. She watched the intricate dreamcatcher etched onto his skin wave as if blown by an invisible wind. She nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat. He’d never been rude, but she got the distinct feeling she irritated him. Biting her bottom lip to hide its trembling, she followed him to the bike and climbed on behind him. Someone had installed a seat on the back she knew hadn’t been there before. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he started up the engine.