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“No one connected to my family knows this place exists. If I didn’t feel it was safe, I would never involve her.” Then Max turned to Bash and grinned. “It would give us some time to get to know each other, and I’m sure Mamma would love to meet her grandson.”
It might not be a terrible idea, Bash thought. Then, the doubts set in. Can I trust him? Would Mom trust him? Is he trying to gain control of Morgan’s ledger? He did say it was worth millions in extortion money. Is that the motive, or does he really want to help?
Morgan nervously ran her hands through her hair. “I’m not sure what to do. I need to get back to my life. I have a job. Need to pay bills. My friend Nicole is feeding my fish. She lives next door to me.”
“It might not be safe for you to go home,” Bash said. “What if your father finds out where you live and tracks you to Atlanta. How can I protect you?”
“That’s sweet, Bash, but it’s not your responsibility to do that. I can take care of myself.”
“Against a motorcycle gang?” Bash’s voice elevated with more irritation than he intended.
“Bash? Don’t yell at me!” Morgan scolded, jumping to her feet, hands on hips.
Max stood up and spread his arms. “Let’s all calm down. There’s a lot of emotion on everyone’s plate right now. Sebastian is just worried about your safety. I am, too. None of us are a match for a ruthless motorcycle gang, not to mention the men working for Enzo, who I’m sure know your identity by now. It is no reflection on your ability to defend yourself. Have you checked in with your friend to make sure there haven’t been any suspicious inquiries about you?”
Morgan’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my gosh. I never thought of that. I took the battery out of my phone to make sure no one could track me. If there was a problem, Nicole wouldn’t be able to get in touch with me.”
“Morgan. Stop with the recrimination. Why don’t you put the battery in and call?” Bash suggested.
“Nicole and I teach first grade at the same elementary school. I won’t be able to speak with her until her lunch break.”
“Why don’t you leave her a message and let her get back to you. I need to get an update from the security company I’m working with.” He turned to Max. “Were you serious about the house in Maine?”
“Absolutely. My offer is to both of you.”
“Would you object to having my security team on the property?”
“Who are you using?” Max asked.
“SMB Protection Agency. They are out of Chicago. I’m working with Sam Barrett, the owner.”
“I’m familiar with them. If I can be part of the security set-up discussion, I’m good with that.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Asa Kline leaned on his motorcycle with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at Tree Brook Apartments in Dunwoody, Georgia, waiting for the rest of his crew to arrive. He was pissed. He had ridden all over half of hell’s creation, looking for his son, who always seemed to be one step ahead of him. Asa had to admit his old man, the son of a bitch, had done a damn good job of hiding him all those years. When his father took off with his child, it was as if they had vanished into thin air. Unfortunately, his old man died before Asa could properly exact his revenge for the 25 years that he had suffered rotting in prison. He may have lost out on making his dad pay, but he planned to get his money’s worth out on his son.
When Asa was released from prison, he headed back to his home with the Dragon Fire MC based in a small town south of Los Angeles. There weren’t many of the same guys around, most of them dead, but once a member, always a member. He was surprised by the lukewarm reception. After all, he had taken the fall for everyone involved in the human trafficking ring. The club members still harbored ill feelings about his father’s betrayal. The only way to make things right was to find the ledger and return it. Asa had recruited three of the members to help him in the search.
One of Asa’s buddies saw an article in a popular motorcycle magazine about the death of some big-deal motorcycle mechanic and what a huge loss it was for professional motorcycle racers across the country. And there it was. A picture of his dad, 25 years older with wrinkled, leather skin, seated on a bike in front of his shop near Gainesville, Georgia. Probably didn’t realize the picture was taken.
When Asa and his crew traveled to Georgia, they found the shop had closed and relocated under new ownership. After questioning the locals, no one knew where Eli Skylar (Clark Kline) had lived. When he went to see the sheriff, Asa had to convince him Eli Skylar was his father. The only thing the sheriff had was his wallet with a driver’s license and $50. It didn’t surprise Asa the old man didn’t have anything left. Probably spent his money on women and drugs like in the old days. A note was found in his dad’s pocket with general directions to a cabin near Tipton, North Carolina. Written at the bottom was a name—Morgan Skylar. That was the first time he knew his son’s name.
When Asa and the guys found the cabin, it was a bust. Groceries sat on the kitchen counter. Little asshole must have heard him coming and ran. They tore the place apart, looking for the ledger, but found nothing. The rental car was bare except for a contract agreement on the floorboard of the passenger side. Name and street address were scratched out until there was a huge hole in the paper. He could still read the renter’s city of residence by the indentions of the pen on the back—Dunwoody, Georgia. When Asa searched online, he found a Morgan Skylar listed as a kindergarten teacher at Glendale Park Elementary, not far from Dunwoody.
The conversation he had with the principal was a waste of time. Bitch wouldn’t tell him anything. As they were leaving, they spotted a young teacher walking alone to her car in a deserted parking lot. The sound of the motorcycles and the backward glance to see who was coming up behind her were enough of a scare to have her singing like a bird. Didn’t have to lay a hand on her. The terror in her eyes was all the coaxing she needed to give up the apartment building where Morgan lived. It was dumb luck that she was one of Morgan’s friends.
It was after 4 p.m. when the guys finally pulled up beside him in the parking lot.
“Where the hell have you been?” Asa barked. He wanted to get this over with before people began returning home from work.
“Stopped to get a few burgers,” Brutus said, stuffing the last bite in his mouth.
“You couldn’t fuckin’ wait…never mind. Let’s get movin’,” Asa said, standing up and heading to the front door.
An older lady carrying a canvas bag with a rat dog stuck in it was opening the door with a code when they stepped behind her. Brutus caught the door and held it open for her.
“You can’t…” she didn’t finish.
