Maddox Page 5

I took a deep breath. “Jared uses his mother’s maiden name. His father is Angelo Rossi.”

  “And you know this because…?”

  “Because Rossi is my last name too.”

  The room erupted with noise and tension as everyone began speaking at once. Maddox pulled me protectively to his side, his expression deadly. “Everyone chill the fuck out,” he barked. The rest of his words seemed to fall on deaf ears as I stared wide-eyed at the room of angry bikers and their women.

  Finally, Max seemed to calm down enough to hear me out, and I explained what I knew, about Jared bragging to my uncle about a home he’d purchased in Hawthorne.

  A blond-haired man who reminded me of a Viking assessed me suspiciously. “You told Mad the Rossis were planning a drop, when really Jared had an attempted kidnapping planned. How do you explain that?”

  Maddox growled but I quieted him, wanting to explain myself. “I think my family suspects something and purposefully fed me that information. It’s why I’m here. I think my cover is blown regardless.”

  That was only partially true; I was here because Maddox needed me, because despite how they might feel about me, I cared about this group of people because Maddox did.

  “Why risk it?” another blond man asked. I wasn’t sure who he was but given the deference the rest of the men treated him with, I guessed he was their prez, Cole.

  I wasn’t comfortable disclosing the degree of hatred I felt for my uncle, or how far I’d be willing to go to help Maddox. So instead I answered vaguely. “I have my reasons.”

  “I think I have something,” a man with black and gray tattoos spoke up, his eyes on a laptop.

  And with that, the room spun into motion, their suspicion of me dismissed for the moment. But not forgotten, I was sure.

  “You did good, baby,” Maddox murmured in my ear, still holding me close to his side.

  I nodded, feeling defeated and exhausted. “I should go.”

  His brow creased. “You just got here. You need to rest.”

  I looked around the room where I was very obviously unwelcome, eager to get out of there. All the reasons why I’d always said Maddox and I would never work, they felt all too real right now.

  “You need to be with your family right now,” I pressed quietly. “I’ll call you later.”

  “Francesca.” His jaw was clenched, determination clear in his tired gaze. He looked about to say more when his name was called from across the room. He looked at me, torn.

  I gave him a gentle push. “Go.”

  I headed for the door before he could argue. I’d never get in the way of him and his family, and after today it was clear that’s what being with me would mean.

  As I walked to my car I realized I hadn’t felt a loss this profound since Nonna had died.

  It had been foolish to think I could be happy—I’d given up that dream long ago. It was time to face reality, alone.

  Chapter 7

  MADDOX

  The sun was shining brightly with a hint of a chill in the air that hinted at winter as I made my way to my bike after a meet at headquarters. It was still midday, plenty of time to make the trip to Vegas I had planned.

  The rumble of an engine announced Max’s arrival as he pulled up in a black Mustang. “Nice ride,” I commented as he cut the engine.

  “It’s Wren’s,” he replied as he climbed out of the car. “You outta here?”

  “Yeah.”

  He leaned against the side of his car, arms crossed as he eyed me intently. “You good?” Max had known me most of my life. It didn’t surprise me he knew something was off. “You worried about your girl?” he guessed correctly.

  “How could I not be fuckin’ worried?” I shot back. “She risked her life to save Wren’s. Those assholes know she worked with us. And it’s not like she’s getting the warmest reception from our side either,” I scoffed.

  She’d come to our aid without hesitation, without regard for her own safety. In return, she’d received skepticism at best from my club and her life was now most definitely in danger.

  “She thinks everyone hates her. She’s keepin’ her distance right when I need to keep an eye on her,” I lamented. “If those assholes lay a hand on her, they’ll answer to me.”

  For the past few weeks, Francesca had done anything and everything to avoid me. If she thought we were done, she had another damn thing coming.

  “We have your back on that, brother,” he assured me firmly.

  “Appreciate it.” I nodded, throwing a leg over my bike. “Gonna go see if I can get my stubborn woman to stay with me.”

  The fact I’d claimed her wasn’t something I made a secret of. Whether or not she accepted it was another thing entirely.

  He bit back a smile. “Good luck.”

  I snorted, firing up my bike. I’d need it. With a final two-finger salute, I roared off down the road.

  The ride felt nearly twice as long as it should have, despite treating the speed limit as a suggestion. Francesca hadn’t responded to any of my texts or calls, and though she’d been trying to keep her distance since she’d come to Hawthorne a few weeks back, I doubted she’d worry me on purpose.

  My gut told me something was wrong.

  Why hadn’t I kept a man on her? Why hadn’t I insisted on staying with her? With worry clawing at me, I’d never regretted anything more.

  One thing was for damn sure, she was done getting any kind of space from me.

  When I hit Vegas limits and shortly after turned down the street where the bakery was, at first I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.

  The bakery was embroiled in flames so high they licked toward the sky. Ash rained down on the neighboring buildings as my eyes went toward the small apartment just above the bakery where Francesca lived. It was too aflame to see. My blood ran cold at the sight as I pulled my bike to the curb abruptly, nearly ditching it in my haste.

  “Stop!” one of the firefighters ordered harshly as I ran toward the scene.

  “My woman lives there!” I bellowed over the chaos swirling around me. “Did you pull anyone out?” I demanded, my breathing labored from both stress and smoke.

  I’d never been so fucking scared in my life.

  He paused, radioing in about potential victims. When the response came back in the negative I wasn’t sure what to think.

  “Do you know for sure she isn’t in there?” I demanded, my knees wanting to give out as dread threatened to consume me.

  “The structure was too unstable by the time we got here,” he explained regretfully. “We don’t know the status of anyone who may have been inside. I’m sorry.”

  I lost my footing then, sitting down hard on the curb beneath me, my head in my hands. The thought she could be lost to me before I’d even had a chance to have any kind of life with her was too much to bear.

  My phone buzzed with a text and what I saw on the screen had a red haze filling my vision.

  Francesca, bound and bloody in a chair.

  Not so helpful now, is she?

  I resisted the urge to hurl my phone against the nearest hard surface as I choked back rage so acute it threatened to swallow me whole.

  I vowed then and there that her uncle and any other motherfucker who’d laid a hand on her would pay in blood.

  But first I had to find her.

  Chapter 8

  FRANCESCA

  The smell of blood, my blood, hung heavy in the air as I struggled to hold my head up.

  “That pain you’re feeling, Francesca, is nothing compared to the agony of your betrayal.” My uncle’s voice lanced through the cavernous room, its evil tone on par with his character.

  When I’d been awoken by the smell of smoke, the flames already licking up the walls of my apartment over the bakery, I’d known immediately who’d set the fire and why. I’d had one route of escape and when I’d made it out to the street, stumbling blindly and struggling to breathe through the smoke, Bruno had been there, the gleam in his eye stating that h
e’d been waiting for this moment for a long time.

  “I had my men watching you. Did you think I’d let this go? That I’d turn a blind eye to my own family sharing secrets with a group of disgusting bikers? That I’d ignore the fact that you got my son killed?” His demand was full of a rage so hateful it would have made me recoil if I had the energy.

  The oddest part of it was that despite the pain throbbing throughout my body and the reality that I’d likely die and soon, I couldn’t bring myself to regret my decisions.

  The world was certainly better off without Jared Waters. And the opportunity to wield some form of power over my uncle, to right some of the Rossi family wrongs, was the vindication I’d been looking for since my parents’ deaths. I didn’t regret it, not even now.

  “She’s wearing out, boss,” Bruno noted mildly, as though he was discussing the weather rather than my imminent doom.

  “I told you to wait with that damn knife,” my uncle replied in irritation. “Perhaps I should text that boyfriend of yours, hmm?” he taunted me. “Share with him that you’re about to give everything for his fucking club. Do you think he’ll care, Francesca? Or perhaps he has a new whore at his beck and call. I know how that club of his operates.”

  There was so much to doubt in life, but of one thing I was sure: the Knights operated with a code of loyalty my uncle would never understand. Too bad I’d never know what it felt like to be part of it.

  “Shit, boss, we have a situation at one of our clubs,” Bruno informed my uncle urgently. “What do you want to do about her?”

  “Leave her for now,” my uncle directed. He moved in close, yanking my head back by my hair, forcing my swollen eyes to his. “Get comfortable, Francesca. This is going by far too quickly, and after your disloyalty you don’t deserve a quick death. We’ll be seeing you soon.” He let go of my hair, and my head snapped forward against my chest as the sounds of their footsteps hit the concrete floor.

  In the silence that followed, the only sound my labored breathing, I tried desperately to pull it together. This was my shot, my only shot to make it through this alive. I had to get out of here. I tested the binds at my wrists, finding them impossibly tight. At first I panicked, my breathing growing rapid in my desperation to escape.

  With a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down, my hands working methodically against the bindings. I had small wrists, but getting the rope over my hands felt impossible. The blood that welled as a result of my movements helped slicken the ropes, and after what felt like forever, one of my hands slipped through and seconds later, the other.

  My momentary elation was quickly replaced with an utter sense of bewilderment as to what to do next. After another deep breath, I took measure of my surroundings. I could scarcely see through the swollen slits of my eyes. After a quick scan, I found my glasses on the floor where they’d clattered to the ground when I’d been struck by Bruno. I slid them on, scanning the room and confirming I was in some sort of warehouse. I had no idea what lay outside the door, but one thing I knew for sure, I had to move. If I tried to escape I could die, but if I stayed I would die. I had to try.

  I stood up carefully, willing my legs to support me, and tried not to faint. I’d lost a good amount of blood and the pain was making it hard to think straight.

  After I was relatively sure I wouldn’t collapse, I moved toward the door and pressed my ear to it, trying to make sense of what may lie beyond it.

  The resounding nothingness made for a terrifying prospect. I summoned my courage and tried the door. Finding it locked wasn’t a surprise, but it still forced me to take another deep breath and not give in to the urge to curl into a ball and wail.

  No time for that.

  Instead, I searched for something to try to beat the knob with. The warehouse was huge but mostly empty. I shuddered to think what other poor souls had met their fate inside these cold walls.

  After what felt like far too long searching, I found a step stool in the far back corner. It wasn’t much but it would have to do. With all my strength I held it firm and whacked it against the knob. I could feel the cuts in my sides ripping with the effort and stars floated in my vision.

  Still, I tried again. Harder this time.

  If anyone was outside waiting to take me out, they could just go ahead and do that because I wasn’t giving up.

  After a fifth whack, the knob grew loose. Hope swelled in my heart as I gave it another hit, sending the knob clattering to the ground. I dropped the stool, my breath heaving, any effort to be quiet long forgotten. If someone else was out there, they’d have busted in here already.

  I swung the door open and got my first look outside. One lone floodlight shone upon the depressing landscape as I wondered where in the hell I was. It looked like some sort of junkyard. I’d been unconscious when we’d driven here. Without delay I picked a direction and started walking, limping really.

  I might still die but it wouldn’t be directly at my uncle’s hand. There was some measure of satisfaction to come from that.

  I hadn’t gotten nearly far enough from the warehouse and yet, I couldn’t make it another step when I stumbled upon the truck stop alongside the freeway.

  Fearful of my uncle’s reach and that this could be the first place he’d search for me, I steered clear of the run-down diner and staggered through the parked trucks, seeking a quiet place to rest until I formulated a plan. I’d have to be out of sight by daylight; my appearance would draw far too much attention.

  The broken-down cardboard at the back of the building might as well have been a four-poster bed for how inviting it looked as I collapsed onto it, curling into a ball and promptly passing out.

  ****

  “Holy shit, is she dead?” A male voice woke me with a start. Fearful that it was one of my uncle’s men, I immediately tried to stand up and escape.

  “Whoa there, sweetheart,” another male voice soothed. “No one’s gonna hurt you.”

  My heart was hammering in my chest as I cracked swollen lids to peer up through the dawn light at two bearded men peering down at me.

  I’d slept far longer than I’d intended. Hell, with the way I felt I was likely lucky to be waking up at all. “I’m fine, I’m going,” I croaked, trying again to move.

  “You just stay put,” the bigger of the two men instructed. “We need to get you an ambulance.”

  “No.” I shook my head adamantly. “No hospital. No police.”

  My uncle had the Vegas PD in his back pocket and he’d be sure to check the hospitals.

  The two men exchanged a look I couldn’t decipher as I lay back to take a deep breath. I hadn’t thought it was possible to feel worse, but somehow I did. Everything hurt.

  “Let’s get her up, Greg,” the larger man directed, nodding to the other man.

  When I made a move to protest, the smaller of the two, Greg, leaned in close. “Based on where you are and the shape you’re in, I can take a guess as to who did this to you. We’re not gonna hurt you but we need to get you outta sight. I’m gonna pick you up and put you in my sleeper. All right?”

  I looked at him, knowing I had no choice but to agree. I was out of options.

  I bit back a groan of pain when he picked me up and carried me without delay toward a big rig.

  “You got someone we can call for you? Someone you trust?” he asked as he laid me gently on a small bed in the extended cab.

  “Maddox Black. I–I don’t have his phone number memorized, but he lives up in Hawthorne. His father owns a bar there, Mad’s. You could reach someone there who can get in touch with him,” I rasped.

  “That’s a biker bar. Your man in the MC up there?” he asked.

  I nodded, not correcting him about Mad being my man.

  “Shit, Ken, girl got fucked up by the mob and belongs to the Knights; better get her outta here as quickly as fuckin’ possible,” Greg muttered to his friend.

  He wasn’t wrong.

  “Shut the fuck up,” Ken muttered before he
turned kind brown eyes to me. “The Rossi family ain’t no friends of mine,” he assured me quietly. “I’ll call your man. You rest.”

  I hoped like hell I could trust him because in that moment, in the state I was in, I had no other option. As my eyes slid closed, I welcomed the image of Maddox and a dream where I was free of pain.

  ****

  “Jesus fuck.” At first I thought Maddox’s broken rasp was a dream as I fought to come around. “Fuck, baby,” he choked out, his large, cool hand splayed gently on my forehead.

  “Maddox?” I whispered hoarsely, my eyes still shut. It hurt too much to open them.

  “Yeah, beautiful, it’s me,” he confirmed quietly.

  “Club’s indebted to you,” an unfamiliar voice declared. “Whatever you need. You call in that marker.”

  “Wasn’t a thing,” Ken replied. “Rossi family hurt someone I cared about a while back. Feels good to make some part of that right. They don’t have everyone under their thumb.”

  “Good to know,” the voice said gruffly. “You see any of ’em nosin’ around here?”

  “No, but I’m ready to hit the road and get some miles between me and them, if you know what I mean.”

  “We’re leaving now,” the man confirmed, just as Maddox’s lips hit my ear.

  “Gonna get you up, baby. Can you put your arms around my neck?” At my nod, his muscular arms slid carefully under my back and thighs, taking my weight as he lifted me gently. “That’s my pop, Axel,” he murmured in my ear.

  “You take the Yukon,” I heard Axel instruct. “I’ll ride your bike back to town. Take her to Cole’s; Scarlet can get her seen to. Too risky to take her to the hospital.”

  “I’ll have Scar meet at my place. I want Francesca in my space,” Maddox replied, carrying me toward what I assumed was the SUV. “Keep everyone off us will you?” he asked as he lay me gently in the back seat, swiping a hand gently over my forehead. “I got you, baby. You hear me? I need to put some miles between us and this town. Soon as we’re clear enough, I’m gonna stop and make sure we get some food and water in you.”