Badge by K.L. Savage
My stomach turns as I stare at the dead woman on the ground. Her blonde hair is the same color as Hope’s. Her eyes are vacant and cloudy. Her arms are placed strategically on her stomach where a long, jagged cut goes across from hip to hip. Blood is pulled under her, and something tells me this happened while she was alive and conscious. I bet she felt every bit of pain.
But wouldn’t someone hear her scream? Where could these murders be happening where no one could hear a woman crying out for help?
“She’s so young,” Reaper notices, crouching down to look at her face. “She reminds me of—”
“—Hope. I know,” I grit my teeth as I notice the resemblance. This is going to give me nightmares for the rest of my life. I can hardly look at the body.
“How long has she been here?” Reaper asks.
“I only noticed her when I called you. I don’t know how long before that,” Moretti replies.
“Her body isn’t stiff yet, so I’m assuming it hasn’t even been a couple of hours. She isn’t that cold either. Is she another—”
“—Hooker? Yeah. I talked to her pimp already. She stopped working when she started to show. Doesn’t know who the father is and was going to give the baby up for adoption. That’s all I know.”
“Whoever did it took the baby this time.”
“I have my men combing all the nooks and crannies in Vegas for the kid. We haven’t found him.” Moretti glances around and crooks his fingers at his men and they pick up the body, then take her inside. “We will respectfully dispose of her ashes. I’ll be sending all the victims to Italy and having their ashes spread there. Beautiful?”
“That’s very kind of you, Mateo.”
“Just because someone has no one, doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be cared for,” Moretti replies to Reaper. He holds the door open for his men as they bring the body in.
“Mateo, we really need to get the cops involved. I have a friend on the force. He can help.”
“Too late for that when the bodies have been… taken care of, Badge. Sorry, but I paid for discretion and that’s what I expect.” Mateo slams the back door entering the casino and leaving me and Reaper out in the dark.
“So you’ve already been paid?”
“I’ve already put what is owed to the club in the account. I wasn’t trying to steal or anything.”
“Badge, it isn’t about that. I’m pissed that you didn’t bring me in early on this. You kept it from me. You went behind my back, for what?” He stands there with his feet shoulder-width apart and his cut is wet from the light rain we hit on our way over. His hair is slicked back, but he has a betrayed expression on his face, one that promises punishment, which I know I deserve. “Did you not trust the club?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know. I felt like I had to do this on my own. Or maybe I was afraid you’d say I couldn’t. And I didn’t want that. I was pissed about my badge, even though I love the club, but I don’t feel like you should have that kind of power, Prez. This is what makes me happy, and you took that from me. So I guess a part of me wanted you to know what it was like for something to be taken from you.”
“And by doing this what did you take?”
“My trust. I didn’t trust you.” I lift a shoulder and Reaper visibly flinches. “I know you always do what is best at heart for the club, Prez. But I don’t know if you know what’s best for each individual member, but that was before—”
“—Before?”
“Before we talked. I don’t feel that way anymore.”
“You know I have to give you a heart, right? I’ve made examples out of a few guys for less.”
“I know. I just wanted to let you know why I did what I did.”
“Message received,” he grumbles, exhaling as he stares up at the sky. “It isn’t easy being the president of a club where people always question you. I’m not going to have fans all the time. I’m not fucking perfect, but I give my damn best, just like all of you do. I’ll fuck up too.” He holds out his hand. “Truce, Badge? Come on, ever since I’ve taken what you love most, I hardly see you around.”
I shake his hand. “I’ll be your friend after you carve a heart in my chest.”
He chuckles. “That’s fair.”
We begin heading toward our bikes when I see a rattle randomly in the middle of the alleyway. I crouch down and use a handkerchief to pick it up. “I think someone left something behind. I’m going to have to call my friend, Utah, Prez. He can run the fingerprints on it.”
“Only him. Mateo will flip the fuck out if he finds out someone else knows besides us. We have to figure this out before more babies are ripped from their mothers. It’s sickening,” he says.
We hurry to our bikes and they grumble to life as we mount them. The rain hits our arms like pellets, but the pain is welcome. It’s been way too long since I’ve been on my bike. A few days, which feels like an eternity to me. I think about the woman’s body back there. She looked so much like Hope. All I want to do is run away with her and the kids to get away from this danger.
The rattle is nearly burning a hole in my cut, and by the time we get to the clubhouse, it’s past midnight.
I sit on my bike after I shut it off and hang my head, wondering when life became so damn difficult and cruel.
“Tomorrow I have a run to do. We’re delivering some weapons for Moretti, but I want you to stay here, okay?”
I lift my head, about to argue with him that I deserve to be there. It’s a knife to the gut. Reaper dismounts his bike and places his helmet on the seat. “It’s nothing against you. I need someone here I trust with the kids and ol’ ladies. A few guys are staying behind, but I need you to be in charge. Alright?”
It isn’t action, but it’s a big responsibility to hold down the clubhouse while most of our main members are out doing business. “You can trust me, Prez,” I say, hopping off my bike and joining him as we walk up the steps.
“I know. I made the mistake of not trusting you once. I won’t do it again.” He opens the front door, and everything is cleaned up from the floor. There’s no more fort on the ground or blood. A few people are still awake, judging by the light coming from the kitchen.
I take out my phone and call Utah. I’d shoot a text, but I don’t fucking feel like texting.
“Nothing good happens after midnight, Walker. What’s up?” Utah answers.
“I have something I need you to run fingerprints on, but I need you to be discreet.”
The exhale on the other end of the phone tells me he isn’t happy. “This has something to do with the body you found, doesn’t it?”
“If you can come over now, I’ll explain everything,” I tell him as I take a seat at the kitchen table.
Hope bends down and steals a kiss before going to the locked, secondary fridge and grabbing me a beer just for the hell of it. We have to keep it out of the way so Mars doesn’t relapse. None of the guys mind. She lowers the bottle until the cap is aligned with the corner of the table, then smacks it, popping the cap right off. Hope places the ice-cold beer in front of me, the glass sweating from condensation.
I don’t know why, but that turns me on so fucking much. My cock takes notice and I watch her ass sway and my mouth waters. I chug my desire down with a big swallow of beer and hold back a growl as she does the dishes, helping Dawn clean up the dirty dishes us guy left around.
“Are you listening to me?”
“Yeah, sorry. What did you say?”
“I said I’m on my way, and you better have a fucking beer for me because it’s late and I just left a really hot lady promising me a good time. Last I heard, you don’t have whores there anymore.”
“You’re kidding, right? Nearly all of us have ol’ ladies now. If you want that, you have to go to Kings’ Club.”
“Mother fucker.” I hear a car door slam. “Fine. I’m on my way.” He hangs up, sounding unhappy, but Utah has always been there for me and has been a great friend. Even when I quit the force and handed over my gun and badge, we always kept in touch. Even if we have times that we don’t talk for a while, we still consider each other close friends. I like that.
“You okay?” Hope asks, taking a beer out of the fridge for herself, then handing one to Reaper before he takes a seat.
I tug the rattle from my cut pocket and set it on the table before carefully unwrapping it so as not to smudge any prints. “The murderer left something behind this time and I’m having Utah run fingerprints on it. I’m hoping whoever it belongs to will lead us to the killer.”
“That’s huge. That’s amazing! Isn’t that great? Why aren’t you happier?” she gushes, taking a happy long swallow of her beer.
“Because of the woman we saw tonight. Her hair… she looked too much like you, Angel. Her baby was cut out of her, and I just kept picturing you. If anything happened to you like that, I don’t think I’d be able to come back from the brink for the second time in my life. That would be it.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me. I don’t meet the requirements, remember?” She touches my hand and it’s like mini explosions dance along my skin. Her touch is so powerful, I believe it could align planets if she concentrated hard enough.
Tool comes pounding into the room, a pissed-off expression on his face as he mumbles something half asleep. His tattoos come to life every time he takes a stride, and his hair is in a complete mess. He must have gotten back from the club before Reaper and I got home. He grumpily thrusts his phone at me. One of his eyes is shut and his head is turned to block the light.
“What?”
“It’s for you.” He sounds angry. “I’m fucking tired and this son of a witch calls me to tell me I’m going to get a flat tire tomorrow. He knows how I feel about his hocus goddamn pocus.” Tool drops the phone on the table and continues to mutter something none of us can understand as he disappears again. He has to go outside to the house where Juliette and he moved to. I’m sure he is pissed to have to wake up and walk over here.
Reaper laughs before drinking his beer. “I fucking love Seer.”
I don’t mind him, but usually, when he wants to talk to you, it’s never good. “Hey Seer, how’s going?”
“Mon amie, I’m well. I have seen your issue in the city. I’m so sorry for all the losses. Ya have a bebe now, right?”
“Yes, I found Jay in the dumpster, but the killings haven’t stopped.”
“I know. I’ve seen everything. The killer is a woman, Badge. And she’s much closer than you think.”
“Does she kill again? Is there another body?”
“There will be if ya can’t act quick enough.”
“This is where I wish you’d give me some detail. Name, face?”
“I can’t,” he groans in frustration. “I want to, but it could ruin everything and make the situation worse. You’ll end this. And tell Tool he won’t get a flat tire. I just like fucking with him.” Seer laughs before ending the call and I toss the phone to the side and snag the cold bottle of beer in my hand.
“Anything?”
“Plenty and nothing all at the same time. I don’t know how he does it.”
“It’s a gift. I can’t wait to see that guy.” Reaper finishes off the beer and yawns. “I’m heading to bed. Keep me updated on the prints. And Badge?”
“Yeah?” I lick my lips to grab the beer lingering.
“Tomorrow.”
I already know what he is talking about, so I lift my beer. “Cheers to that.”
“What’s that about?” Hope asks, standing from the chair and lowering herself on my lap.
“Nothing, baby. Just something about a run a few of the guys have to do tomorrow.” I kiss the side of her neck, burying my nose in the strawberry scent of her hair. “I love your hair. I don’t know if I ever told you that after you got it done.”
“You didn’t, but the way you fuck me kind of gives it away,” she whispers into my ear, dipping her tongue inside. I squeeze her thigh and she turns my head for me to look at her. Beer lingers on her breath, but I bet if I were to kiss right now, she’d taste like wine because she’s so damn sweet. “It’s just hair, baby. I’m not her. I’m right here.” She takes my hand and places it in the middle of her chest.
“Damn, looks like I’m missing out on all the fun and this little dude has a wicked grip.”
Hope and I turn to see Utah being dragged into the kitchen with an arm behind his back. Braveheart is keeping his arm locked up tight. “This guy says he knows you,” Braveheart states.
“He’s cool. He’s a cop, Braveheart.”
Braveheart immediately lets go and dusts off Utah’s shoulders. “Sorry about that. God, don’t arrest me. A man like me wouldn’t do well in jail.”
“I’m off-duty, kid. Don’t worry about it.” Utah spins a chair around and sits down, stealing my damn beer and finishing it off. “Start from the beginning and don’t leave a damn thing out. I don’t want to be here all night.”
Mars’s teenage sort-of daughter Poppy comes strolling in and she freezes when she sees Utah sitting at the table. I say sort-of because he didn’t officially adopt her or anything, but she looks up to Mars like a father anyway, and lives with him and Sunnie in their house.
“I know you.” He taps his finger against his chin. “How are you holding up, Poppy?”
“You know Poppy?” I ask, skeptical that that is even possible. I’m really happy that all of the bottles are currently under the table right now and out of sight for Mars.
“We have had a few unfortunate run-ins together.”
Poppy begins to panic and it’s as if Mars can sense her discomfort or the fact that she’s finally coming home, because he enters the room as well, a pissed-off look on his face. But the look disappears when she sees how uncomfortable she is. Her face is as white as a sheet and she begins to scratch the inside of her arms, similar to Sunnie when she is nervous.
“What the hell is going on here? Are you questioning my daughter without my fucking permission?” Mars glares at Utah.
“No. Nothing like that. I’m sorry you are uncomfortable with me, Poppy. I didn’t enjoy the times I had to arrest you,” Utah explains.
“Come on, sweetheart, we’re going home.” Mars gives Utah a deadly stare on his way out and I can’t help but chuckle.
“Making friends already,” I note.
“Ah, you know me. I have friends in all the right places. Thank you, Hope,” he tells her kindly as she places a fresh beer down in front of him once we are alone. “I am sure I’ve arrested a few people here in this club. So if we could get a move on, that would be great.”
Hope hands me another beer too, and I chug half of it down before I start my storytelling. “I started my own business, as you know. Remember that first victim we found, with the baby?”
“Of course,” he nods. “Didn’t the family keep the baby?”
“I’m not sure what the killer was thinking, but they changed their preference. There have been four other murders since. I have one of the babies downstairs. He’s the only one that has survived. All hookers with no family, so the kid has no one,” I explain before he even thinks about taking Jay away from me.
“Earlier tonight I got a call for the fourth victim. At the last crime scene, I found this.” I point at the rattle in the middle of the table and slide it gently toward him by tugging on a corner of the handkerchief. “I need you to run fingerprints on it.”
“Jesus Christ, Walker. What the hell are you doing keeping this under lock and key? Who knows if this is connected to anything else? What the fuck, Walker? What. The. Fuck.” Utah finishes off a second beer. “I need something stronger.”
“Sorry, you will only find something stronger in one of the houses surrounding the clubhouse. We aren’t even technically allowed beer in the main area.”
“What the hell kind of club is this? What biker club doesn’t have booze?” Utah frowns.
“The kind where they care about the recovery of a few of their members,” Hope snaps.
Utah surrenders and holds up his hands. “Understood. Sorry for tiptoeing where I don’t belong.”
“And there have been other cases,” I say hesitantly. “A few more bodies in California. I think it’s the same person.”
“We need to alert the news. Pregnant women need to be warned so they have a chance to consider their own safety. What are you thinking, Walker?”
“I’m thinking we don’t have bodies because maybe, possibly, they were dumped at Lussuria where the Moretti Syndicate resides,” I say the words slowly and with a wince when Utah’s face becomes annoyed.
“Fucking damn it. Give me the rattle and I’ll run fingerprints.” He holds out his hand.
“Utah, you have to swear you won’t tell a soul. Mateo might just find you and kill you.”
“I’m not stupid. Pissed? Yeah. Stupid, no.” He takes the rattle and hands me the empty beer bottle. “I’ll get the answers to you as soon as possible.” With that, Utah leaves, and I’m left with a cold feeling of dread.
“It’s going to be okay,” Hope tries to comfort me.
“Yeah, I know.” I’m afraid it won’t be, though. I’m afraid I fucked up by listening to Mateo. I shouldn’t have. The cops should have handled this and now if I don’t figure out who is killing these pregnant women, I’m fucked. It all falls on me.
Hope and I are the only ones awake, but I’m nowhere near ready to fall asleep. Hope grabs a bag and hides all the empty beer bottles in there. “Want to go watch a movie and fall asleep on the couch?”
“God, yes.” I take the bag from her. “I’ll go dispose of these. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll start a scary movie. You know how much I love cuddling up to you so you can protect me.” She bats those eyelashes at me as if she is innocent.
“And somehow it makes me feel so manly.”
She giggles and heads to the living room while I make my way out the back door and toss the empty bottles in the recycling bin. That’s when I notice Braveheart coming towards me with something in his arms, and when I hear a cry, my worst fear comes to light.
“Who the fuck gave you that baby, Braveheart?” I take her from his arms and hold her tight as she begins to fuss.
“I don’t know. This… fucking crazed woman. She went on and on about her calling to God and how she needed to continue her work. She handed the baby to me through the gate and left.”
Son of a bitch.
Our killer just made a delivery in person.
