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Needing to make sense of it, I called for Church, an urgent gathering of our club in the hall where I was supposed to be married. My brother and Eve’s dad stayed behind, their faces etched with concern. Pagan stepped in, authoritative and focused, and began assigning jobs like searching the property, canvassing downtown, checking in with contacts. The usual buzz of the clubhouse was replaced by a somber determination. We were a family on a mission.
We huddled around, mapping out our strategy as I ran over the possibilities, the potential threats that could be at play here.
“The Asphalt Gods MC in Arkansas,” I started, my voice low. “We had our beef in the past, but I thought that was water under the bridge.” I paused, scanning the surrounding faces, each one a mirror of my own worry.
“But her dad?” A brother called out.
“I called in a favor there. I made sure no one, I mean no one in their club, gave two shits about him being here. But then there’s the mob,” I continued, feeling like a shit sandwich with no bread. “I’ve been feeding them false info about a bigger threat out there. Noah Fond. Maybe they got wise to it.”
A murmur spread through the room at the mention of his name. Noah Fond wasn’t just anyone, he was a power player, the kind of man who could make or break lives in Nashville with a single word. “Fond’s had a target on Eve since the beginning of her time here. Told me straight up, she shouldn’t step foot on Broadway again.”
“Why did she go last night, then?” Riff asked, his confusion clear.
I shook my head, the frustration and guilt a tight knot in my gut. “I told her not to,” I admitted, the words tasting like ash in my mouth. “I thought… she agreed.”
The room fell silent, the magnitude of my situation settling in. This wasn’t going to be easy. Not only were we up against the clock to find Eve, but we were dealing with men who’d sooner kill her than negotiate. We were also potentially poking the bear, having to face our biggest threats to find her. Rubbing my head, I considered every angle, every possibility. But one thought remained at the forefront. Hallow was right. Somehow, this was all my fault.
Brothers were all throwing out possibilities, and Pagan was tasking someone to check them out. We sent brothers to Arkansas, to her Gran’s, to her friend’s grave, to Shakey’s, to Broadway. Anywhere we could think of.
Snapping my fingers. “A girl involved… in what happened to make Mr. Fond target Eve just died.” I had Pagan get me the paper. “Maybe she has family, friends, a lover set on revenge.” I sent someone to question Celie who contacted Eve out of the blue the other day. Fuck.
As our Church disbanded, my brothers moving out with their assigned tasks, I stood there in the empty hall, the decorations mocking me. This was supposed to be a day of celebration of love and new beginnings. Instead, it had turned into a complete nightmare.
I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had somehow led Eve into danger, that my past, our past, was threatening to tear everything apart. The clubhouse sprang into action, but I felt utterly helpless. Igniting another cigarette, I silently made a vow. I would find Eve. I would bring her home.
Chapter 13
Kingpin
Eve’s absence cut a hole straight through my heart, and I couldn’t wait hours for answers. I had to act. I made the call to Scar, the president of the mother chapter of the Asphalt Gods MC. We had our dealings in the shadows, running another club together in secrecy. I couldn’t believe I got him on the first try. He said he was down in Alabama, making his way to Florida, but I couldn’t care less about his itinerary. My world had narrowed down to one singular focus. Finding Eve.
“Fuck our deals, son,” I said, my voice tight with barely contained rage. “I think your boys might have my ol’ lady, and if that’s the case, I’m ready to bring my whole damn storm down on the Gods, all of y’all.”
There was a pause on the other end, and then Scar’s voice came through, cool and measured. “I’ll look into it,” he offered, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly.
“Look into it?” I echoed, suspicion sharpening my tone. “Shove it up your ass, Scar. You can’t even keep your clubs in line.”
His response was immediate, a low growl. “Those are fighting words, Kingpin.”
I was past caring about diplomacy or the fragile alliances between our clubs. “Then come on down here to Nashville. Put up or shut up, little boy.” It was a challenge, pure and simple.
To my surprise, Scar took me up on it. He showed up at Royal Road the very next day with his Tucson crew, a bold move considering the bad blood between our clubs. Especially after the Arkansas Gods ambushed and killed some of my brothers a few years back on Halloween. I told Gunn to let the fuckers through the gates. The tension was unmistakable as they roared in, Scar on a fucking Indian, kicking up dust. An ominous cloud threatened to burst at any moment.
With all the visiting Royal Bastards still around, we didn’t have to worry about the dozen Gods with Scar. The boy was young, inherited the deal with me from the General, an evil SOB, his late father. I’d never met this biker in person, but I didn’t see a single Scar on him. He was a bit too put together for my liking, but he ran an empire bigger than mine. It was clear in his stance and ease that he was in charge of his and wasn’t afraid of mine. I could respect that.
But soon as the boy opened his mouth, spoke the word, mentioned the Asphalt Gods MC, my brothers spit. We hated the Gods. Regardless, Scar wanted to talk, just the two of us. His VP, a fucking woman to beat all, started to kick up a fuss, but a sharp look from Scar shut her down fast. We made our way to my office. Pagan and Scar’s VP, who was almost as big as him with tits, stood guard, their arms crossed, an uneasy silence settling between them.
Once the door was shut, I laid it all out for him. “My woman’s missing,” I started, leaning on my desk. “And I need the Road Monsters.”
He took a seat, and I watched Scar closely, gauging his reaction. This wasn’t just a request. It was an admission of the stakes.
“No one here can know I have anything to do with that club, Scar. You know it, so I need you to get it rolling, be the contact. I need the big dogs, and you know it takes two of us to tango.” I had to have another Ace anyway to get the Road Monsters MC involved in any of my personal matters.
The room was burdened with the significance of my plea, the unspoken implications. This was more than a test of loyalty. It was a demand for action, a call to arms. For Eve, for the future we were supposed to have, I was willing to cross any line, break any truce. Scar’s response would dictate the next chapter in this unfolding nightmare, and I braced for whatever came next.
Scar met my gaze, unflinching, as the silence stretched between us. Scratching his beard, he was mulling it over. Finally, he spoke. “I already paid my debt. Hell, I even allowed Fighting Cock to come to your wedding. Why should I help?”
“I’ll do anything to get my ol’ lady back.”
