Rowe by Jessica Gadziala

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Rowe

“Brooks, where the fuck…” Fallon started, but the smile immediately fell from his face.

And I knew.

I knew before it was even possible to know.

So did Malc who rushed over to cut the music, leaving everyone startled, looking over as he held up his hand and pointed to our president.

“When? How long of a head start do they have?”

“Someone took Billie,” Finn, who was standing close enough to his brother to hear the conversation on the phone announced.

There was an audible gasp around the room as the men rushed forward. And some of the girls too.

“Where? Okay. We’re on our way. We’re moving out,” Fallon announced. “Billie’s learning center. Now. We have no time to spare,” he added.

“You, Valen, Voss, Cary, Dezi, and the new chapter hang back,” he said, nodding toward me.

“No.” The word came out of me immediately, without thinking.

“I don’t have time to fucking argue with you. Stay. Go over the boxes. See if there is anything we might have missed.”

With that and nothing else, they were gone.

Before I could even move to do so, Slash was already going down into the basement to grab the boxes, coming running back up with them.

“Whoever knows Billie and her life best, look over these,” he demanded, spreading the notes and images around the table.

“We’ve all been over these,” Layna said, having arrived with Vi to hang out with Valen before the party really got going.

“Look again,” I growled, snatching one of the notes and pictures up, reading over the words once, twice, three times. But aside from the growing sick sensation in my stomach, there was nothing new to be gleaned from what was written.

“It has to be someone who’s taken one of her classes or something, right?” Vi asked. “That makes the most sense. Do you think there is a roster of those names somewhere?”

“If there is, it is at her apartment,” Layna said, shrugging.

“I’m going to go check,” Vi said. “I feel useless here. I’ve been over these.”

“Go. Check. Call us with any information. We can send it up to Chris at Hailstorm to go over it all,” Slash said, taking the leadership role since all of our present leaders were on the way to the learning center where Brooks and Billie had been caught off-guard.

Wait.

The learning center.

“Hey, give me that one,” I demanded, pointing toward the picture in Layna’s hand.

Her brows pinched at the sharpness in my tone, but she handed it to me anyway.

It was the picture from the first box I’d ever seen.

I thought I’d studied everything in that box.

But as the idea of the learning center came into my head, something made me want to check it over again.

“What? Did you find something?” Layna asked, watching me.

“I don’t… maybe,” I said, shaking my head and refocusing on the picture.

I’d been focused the last time on the fact that someone had drawn Billie naked in a cross-legged position. I hadn’t really even given the background a lot of thought.

But that was all I was looking at right then.

And, sure enough, there were the wooden walls and the speaker where Billie plugged in her iPod. There were mats on the floor facing Billie who was in a position like she was teaching her class.

It was from the perspective of a student.

Watching their instructor.

“You’re not breathing,” Dezi said. “What did you find?”

“Give me a second,” I demanded, trying to mentally put myself back in that class.

And as I started to do that, the memories of the night I’d been there came flooding back to me.

My focus had been so much on Billie at the time that everyone else had become background noise.

But she’d been having an issue with a member of the class that night.

What the hell was his name?

I knew she’d called him by name, but I was struggling to drag it back to the forefront of my mind.

“I think a woman drew this,” Sway said from over my shoulder.

“What? Why would you say that?” Slash asked, looking at his man.

“Just the gaze, y’know?”

“No, I don’t know. Explain it to me,” Slash demanded, voice rough.

“Like in movies. The male gaze always focuses on the parts of a woman that we sexualize. The breasts, the ass, hips, thighs, pussy. That is where the lens goes because it is usually a man filming and directing. But a woman’s gaze goes to things that aren’t inherently sexual. Like a man’s hands or his eyes.”

“To the point, Sway. A woman is kidnapped right now,” Slash grumbled.

“This image of Billie is naked. Her legs are even open. But the focus isn’t on that. Her hair is over her shoulder, half-covering one of her breasts. And your gaze almost goes to her hands on her knees instead of between her thighs just because of how they are drawn. It’s soft. I think a woman drew this.”

“Well, Billie teaches tantric sex workshops, right?” Layna said. “There would be couples there. Maybe one of the couples is sick and—“

“Reggie.” The name burst out of me. I wasn’t even cognizant of remembering it in my head before it was coming out between my lips.

“What?” Slash asked.

“Reggie. I was with Billie at one of her workshops. There was this fucking asshole there named Reggie. He kept giving her a hard time,” I explained.

And when he wasn’t giving her a hard time, his eyes were pinned to her, watching her every movement. Even when he was supposed to be focusing on his wife, when they were doing that rocking and breathing exercise, his gaze kept slipping to Billie.

“I don’t remember the wife’s name. But she is this slight thing with eyes that dart away if you look at her.”

“Sounds like the kind of woman who might be okay with her man abducting and abusing another woman,” Layna said, venom spitting from each word.

“I don’t know more than that. Just Reggie. He’s got these absent green eyes. Tall and skinny. Almost has a nerdy look.”

“Hey, that’s a lot,” Layna said. “I will call Vi, see if she found any files and can cross-reference the name Reggie.”

With that, we waited, still poring over the files.

“Hey, we got something,” Layna said, coming back, and putting her phone on speaker. “It’s Chris,” she explained.

“Vi sent me over the name for Reggie and Lizzie Laurent. I did a quick search for them and I think it might actually be a good lead. I have an address to—“

“Give it to me,” I growled, hopping up and ripping at my brace with impatient fingers.

“We need to call Fallon,” Slash insisted as Chris prattled off the address that was on the edge of Navesink Bank.

“Call Fallon. I’m not wasting another second,” I growled. “That bastard explicitly talked about raping her,” I snapped, rushing through the clubhouse, outside, and onto my bike.

I didn’t think about my back.

I didn’t even bother with my damn helmet.

I was pulling out the gates when I heard other bikes rumble to life to follow.

It had to be right. We had to be right. It was the only way. We had to get her back. Before anything happened to her.

At least I hoped to fuck before anything happened to her.

She hadn’t been gone that long.

That was the only reassurance I had. Brooks was sure he was only out for five minutes tops. Which gave them a very narrow head start.

Sure, it took us a few to put the information together, to get a name and address. But not that long. And Billie was smart. She was trained. She would do whatever she could to talk them down or fight if she could.

She would buy herself some time.

She would know we were looking for her, would be coming for her.

And if I found out that fucker touched one goddamn hair on her head, I was going to revel in hearing him beg for his life, for mercy. Of which I would have exactly fucking none. Even if all he managed to do was hit her over the head and get her back to his place. Even then.

No. Fucking. Mercy.

A block or so away from the house, I pulled the bike to a stop and hopped off, not wanting them to know we were coming, to get desperate, to possibly try to kill Billie.

I leaned down to get my gun, only letting out about seven nasty curses at the pain that shot up my spine and down my leg at the sudden motion.

That pain was nothing to the pain that damn near brought me to my knees as I ran through the neighbor’s backyard, glad when they didn’t have an observant dog to alert anyone to my presence.

I could hear the others behind me, but far enough back that if I saw something going on in that house, I had to rush in without them.

It was an average, every day ranch with white siding and some pretty hideous green shutters. The landscaping was simple, but meticulously manicured. I got the anal vibe from Reggie, so it was no surprise that not a single weed was permitted to grow up in the flowerbeds or the cracks in the front path.

There were lights on in what seemed to be the main living areas of the house and one room toward the side. I imagined that was the bedroom. And since there was no basement to this ranch, I figured that the bedroom was the next logical place to keep someone you abducted and wanted to assault.

I wasn’t going to be able to haul myself up into a window. It wasn’t something I was proud to admit, but my back was screaming. It didn’t matter how much I wanted it, my body wasn’t going to let me do it.

Decision made, I made my way around the house, pausing at the window where the light was on, wanting to make sure I was right in my assumption before I broke several laws by charging into a stranger’s house armed.

The others filed in behind me, silent but for their breathing as we listened.

And then we heard voices.

Two women.

“I think I might play with you a little hard,” the first voice said. It wasn’t Billie, so I had to assume it was Reggie’s wife, Lizzie. “I’ve seen some videos, you know.”

“What kinds of videos?” Billie asked, voice tight. If you didn’t know her, you might not have caught how strangled she sounded.

And then the Lizzie chick proved she wasn’t just an innocent bystander.

“The kinds where men use their whole hand, sometimes even their arm. You know… inside a woman.”

We were only catching the tail-end of a conversation, but the implication was clear. For reasons unknown to any of us, this chick wanted to put her fucking fist and arm inside of Billie.

So much for the soft, feminine gaze.

Inside the house, there was a clicking sound.

A door closing.

Reggie. That had to be Reggie.

“Oh, we’re going to have fun now!” the woman said. And, I shit you not, she clapped her hands.

She clapped her handsat the idea of not only watching her husband assault another woman, but to participate in it herself.

I had to fight down the growl that grew in my throat as I nodded toward Slash who had moved in behind me, then turning back to make my way around the house, knowing we needed to step in and fast.

I said a silent thank you to whatever higher power there was in the world that the small front porch was cement, not wooden planks that I would have to worry about making noise.

I reached for the doorknob, feeling it turn in my hand. That didn’t seem like something Reggie would overlook, but he was also likely trying to haul in an unconscious, or conscious and livid woman.

Whatever the reason, it was a stroke of luck.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the door, wincing, waiting for a squeak that never happened.

The inside of the house was a lot like the outside. A little outdated, kind of cold and empty, but meticulously clean.

The only thing that gave me pause was the wooden easel set up in the corner of the living room with a picture of Billie’s face drawn there.

Before I even got a chance to analyze that, there was a crashing sound in the back room followed by shrieking.

My heart flew up into my throat as I recognized the voice.

Billie.

I didn’t think.

I didn’t check to see if anyone was at my six.

I rushed through the house, ripping open the bedroom door.

And then there was the scene before me.

Billie on the floor, broken pieces of a chair still attached to her ankles with ropes, sprawled out on her back with that motherfucker straddling her waist, his hands ripping at her shirt. Then there was the woman, Lizzie, holding Billie to the ground by her shoulders as Billie shrieked and squirmed.

“Get the fuck off of her,” I growled, making three heads whip in my direction at the same time.

Billie, thanks to years of relentless training from her aunts, managed to recover first, taking advantage of her attackers’ surprise, bucking her hips upward and yanking out of Lizzie’s hold.

Billie pulled in her legs, landing her feet on Reggie’s chest, and shoving him back hard enough for him to crash into the dresser.

Billie popped up, knocking Lizzie onto her ass in the process.

I reached with my free hand, yanking Billie forward.

“Run,” I demanded, moving out of the way of the door so she could escape.

Someone would get her out of there.

I wanted to go to her, to comfort her, but I had to deal with the sick sonofabitch who planned on hurting her.

“No no no no!” Lizzie shrieked, hopping to her feet. “Don’t hurt him.”

“He was going to hurt someone who means a lot to me,” I told her, aiming at Reggie. “He has to pay for that.”

I saw the recognition in Reggie’s eyes, followed by the fear, for all of ten seconds before my finger slid to the trigger and pulled.

“No!” Lizzie screamed as Fallon moved in at my side.

“I know she’s just as guilty,” I said, nodding toward the woman who was literally pulling at her hair. “But I can’t shoot a woman,” I told him.

It was clear from the unsettled look on Fallon’s face that he was dealing with the same uncertainty.

Before either of us could figure out the next move, though, it was Voss who moved in at my side and lifted his arm. “Luckily, I don’t have those reservations. Nighty-night, psycho bitch,” he said, and before we could even draw a breath, Voss was putting a bullet in Lizzie’s forehead, making her body fall back onto the bed.

“Jesus Christ,” Fallon mumbled, looking over at Voss as he tucked his gun away again.

“A crazy rapist is a crazy rapist, don’t matter if it’s a dude or a chick in my book. Only one way to handle that. They gotta be put down.” With that, he turned around and walked back out of the room.

“I don’t disagree with him,” Fallon said, brows pinched. “But I’m not sure how I feel about how casually he just handled that. Gotta have a full file on him as soon as possible,” he added, speaking mostly to himself. Because I was already making my way out of the room, walking through the house, then out the front door, and down the steps.

It was right then that Billie flew out of nowhere, charging at me, and throwing her arms around me. I fumbled to tuck my gun away so my arms could wrap her up as well, the rush of relief so strong I nearly sagged under the weight of it.

“I knew you would come. I don’t know how, but I knew you would,” she said, squeezing me tighter.

Then, just as suddenly as the hug started, it ended, and Billie’s hands were reaching for the sides of my face, she was leaning up, and her lips were sealing over mine.

I just stood there in stunned non-reaction for a long moment.

I couldn’t kiss her.

Least of all in front of all of the very same people who would never approve of me putting my hands on her.

But there was no stopping my lips from taking over, from doing what I’d dreamt of doing a million times in the past.

Her lips were pliant under mine for a long moment before they got harder, more demanding. Her teeth nipped my lower lip. Her tongue teased the seam of my lips, looking for a way in.

And I had every intention of letting her.

“Not to be a buzzkill here, but, ah, Sugar is making his way up the street,” Fallon announced, making my lips rip from Billie’s.

“I don’t care,” Billie insisted, looking up at me with hazy eyes.

“He can’t… he can’t find out like this, babe,” I said, voice low enough for only her to hear.

Billie let out a grumble, but went down on the flats of her feet and moved out of my arms just in time for her father to come into sight.

There was undiluted fear in his eyes until his gaze landed on his daughter.

He flew forward, sweeping her off her feet, and crushing her in a hug until she started making gasping sounds from the lack of air.

“Where is he?” Sugar asked, looking at Fallon.

“Rowe took care of him,” Fallon told Sugar. “And Voss took care of the wife.”

Billie made a pained noise, making her father look down at her. “They had to go, baby,” he told her, shaking his head. “I know you don’t like that, but they couldn’t walk away from this. They would have just found another victim. One who didn’t have loved ones who could know how to find them. How did you know how to find them?” Sugar asked, looking at me.

“One of the pictures,” I told him. “But it was Sway who suggested it was a woman who’d drawn them.”

“Yeah, but it was you who came up with the name of Reggie,” Slash said. “Take the credit where it is due.”

“I owe you,” Sugar said, nodding.

“No, you don’t,” I said, shaking my head. “We all wanted to find her,” I added.

Fallon murmured under his breath Well, some of us more than others.

“What?” Sugar asked.

“Nothing. We need to get the hell out of here. The neighbors are going to suspect something,” he insisted.

“We need to clean up,” Slash said, jerking his head toward the house.

“We usually handle our dirty work. But I think just this once, we might need to contract out. This is the ‘burbs. The nosy neighbors are going to suspect something if they catch sight of any of us. Someone get Quinton Baird’s office on the phone. Tell him we need a full clean-up. Give him the address,” he added as Brooks reached for his phone.

With that, we all headed back out.

“You realize this shit is going to need to be a discussion,” Fallon said, falling into stride with me at the back of the group. All the running and riding was catching up to me now that the adrenaline was wearing off. I was pretty sure I’d set my recovery back a few weeks. But it was worth it. We got her back. That was all that mattered.

“For the record, I tried to fight it,” I told Fallon.

“Is that the reason Billie suddenly didn’t come around anymore, and couldn’t look you in the eye?”

“I think I was harsher than I realized at the time. She was off-limits. I don’t want you to think I didn’t know that. I did. And I respected that. Even if…”

“Even if it was harder than you thought it would be.”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Fallon said. “She’s been crazy about you for a long time. I figured it was one-sided.”

“I didn’t think there was a choice.”

“There’s not,” Fallon said. “Not if the intention is something casual. But if it is more than that, I think we all know you well enough now that we can trust you. Well, I think I can. This is a matter for you and Sugar to talk through.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be the one to bring it up, though.”

“I’ll mention it to everyone before they slip up to Sugar,” he agreed.

“I appreciate it.”

“Yep. But don’t sit on it, or you’re going to force me to tell him myself.”

“Got it,” I agreed.

“You okay to ride back?” he asked. “You’re walking like a grandpa first thing in the morning.”

“I feel like one too. It’s not a long ride,” I said, even if just looking at my bike filled me with dread.

Eventually, though, I had no choice but to climb on and follow the men as well as Billie, Vi, and Layna back to the clubhouse.

Where literally everyone in the family was there to swarm Billie with as much love as she could accept.

I stood back and watched. Partly because I was so glad she was okay that I was drinking in the image of her there with her loved ones, relatively unharmed, even managing to smile here and there. The other part was the fact that any movement was causing pretty blinding pain, so just staying near the bar was the least agonizing option.

“Not exactly the welcome home you had planned, huh?” Seth asked as Valen walked up to grab a refill.

“You kidding? It wouldn’t be a proper welcome home without some sort of life-or-death scenario,” Valen said, smirking as he raised his glass to his lips. “Feels good to be back. Who wants to place a bet on when the next life-altering event will take place? I’ve got the six-week mark.”

“This club?” Voss asked in that rough, rumbling voice of his as he walked up. “I don’t think they’d make it three weeks.”

“Hey, Fall,” Seth called, getting a nod from the president. “We got any leads on the fuckers who ambushed us?”

“Nothing concrete, but we got leads.”

“Okay,” Seth said, smirking at us. “I will take the week mark.”

“Why would you take sooner when we have no leads?” Valen asked.

“You’ve been away for a long time,” Seth said, smirking. “With Chris taking over for Aunt Lo at Hailstorm, she’s gotten even more obsessive than she used to be. The fact that there are no leads is, no doubt, driving her up a fucking wall. She will have something for us in a couple of days.”

“Chris finally took over, huh?” Valen asked, nodding.

“You have a lot of catching up to do,” Seth said, clapping him on the shoulder, then moving away. “Oh, by the way,” Seth called, turning back around to smirk at Valen. “You’ll never guess who I bumped into at the coffeehouse today.”

Valen’s smile fell from his face immediately.

“No,” he said, the look of dread on his face matching the dread in his voice.

“Yes,” Seth said, his smile devilish.

“You didn’t.”

“I mean, she asked what was new. You’re new. I didn’t really have a choice but to tell her, did I?”

“You fucker,” Valen growled, charging forward as Seth weaved through the crowd, trying to avoid him.

“Shit is interesting here,” Voss declared, grabbing a refill, then moving off to talk to some of the older guys.

“Hey,” Billie’s voice called from my side, soft, sweet. “That bar has been holding you up long enough,” she said, sliding an arm around my lower back, then slipping under my arm. “Let’s get some salve on your back and your brace back on,” she said, pushing her shoulders up to take some of my weight.

“I can—“

“No, I’m pretty sure you can’t,” she said, shooting me a soft smile. “Otherwise, you would have gotten to a more comfortable position sooner,” she added, pressing a hand to my stomach as she moved us past a few of the guys.

“You okay?” Malcolm asked as we passed.

“Tweaked my back,” I admitted.

“You could have let someone else charge in,” Billie insisted as she kept half-pulling me through the clubhouse.

“No, babe, I couldn’t,” I told her, making her pause, look up at me, and give me a sweet smile.

“Thanks for saving me, Rowe,” she said, eyes getting a little glassy.

“Anytime, babe,” I said, shrugging, but that slight movement immediately made my back scream. “On second thought, if you could stay out of trouble for, roughly, three months, my back would appreciate that.”

“On the pain scale, where are you at?” she asked, grabbing my brace from Brooks who held it out to her as she passed.

“I don’t know. Seven, maybe?”

“We will get that down to hopefully a three or four,” she said, leading me into my room where she stopped near my dresser so I could lean into it a bit.

With that, this woman who’d been stalked and kidnapped and attacked carefully nursed me. She smeared on salve, got my pain meds, and helped me into my brace, then led me over toward my bed.

“I should be taking care of you.”

“Why? There’s nothing wrong with me,” she said, shaking her head.

“You just went through something traumatic.”

“It was scary for a minute,” she said. “Some of the things Lizzie was saying…” she said, eyes haunted for a second. “But it’s over. They will never get near me again.”

“You okay with that? I know you don’t like the more violent acts this club commits.”

“Normally, I’m not. But after a lifetime of hearing stats about sexual predators from my aunts, I am inclined to be more in the ‘you can’t fix that kind of sickness’ camp. So as much as I don’t even like thinking something like this, I think the world is better off when these people aren’t around anymore.”

“I agree with you,” I said, reaching out to brush some of her hair behind her ear. “You lost your earring,” I said, noticing the other pussy flower earring was still attached to her other ear.

“I know. These were my favorite too,” she said, frowning. “What do you think? Sitting or trying to lie down?” she asked, gesturing toward my bed.

“Flat I think might be best.

“Flat with pillow under the knees,” she suggested. “It takes the strain off the lower back.”

“Sold, I agreed, moving to get onto the bed.

“Wait, let’s get these off,” she said, reaching for my fly.

“Billie…”

“Stop fighting,” she demanded, making short work of my button and zipper, then grabbing the waistband to pull them down, leaving me there in my boxers and tee. “That will be more comfortable.”

So I got in the bed.

And Billie fiddled with the pillows and blankets until she was satisfied. And I was just happy to watch her fussing.

“What are you doing?” I asked as she climbed up on the bed, moving to straddle me, but not sitting her weight down.

“Finishing what we started,” she said with a smile as she pressed down toward me, then sealed her lips to mine.

“Baby, the clubhouse is full.”

“Mmhmm,” she murmured against my lips. “But they’re out there. We’re in here,” she said, punctuating each word with a soft little kiss.

“Billie…”

“Shh,” she said, pressing a kiss to the outside of my lips. “This is medicine too,” she told me as her lips trailed down my jaw, to my ear, then down my neck.

“Never heard of this kind of medicine,” I said, turning my head to the side a little to give her better access.

“That’s because you’ve never been with me before,” she told me, moving toward the other side of my neck. “Think of all the times you could have enjoyed this type of healing if you hadn’t rejected me,” she said, lifting up to give me a ‘you were an idiot’ smirk.

“I never wanted to,” I told her, my hands gliding up the backs of her thighs, then over her ass.

“Do you remember what you said?”

“I don’t,” I admitted. “But judging by the hurt you have in your eyes when you look at me, I know it was over the line.”

“Had.”

“Hm?”

“Had in my eyes. Past tense. But you… aside from saying we weren’t going to get together, you called me sad.”

Ouch.

I didn’t remember that word, but the certainty with which she said it let me know that she never forgot it, not even for a moment.

“I didn’t mean it. I never meant it. You’re not sad. You’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. But I couldn’t have you. And it was killing me to have you keep coming on to me, but not being able to act on it.”

“You could have acted on it.”

“The club,” I said, shaking my head.

“Doesn’t dictate my life.”

“But it does dictate mine,” I reminded her. “If your father—“

“Found out that you made me happy, he wouldn’t care that you were a member of the club,” she cut me off.

“You don’t know that, babe.”

“I do know that. Because I know my dad. And any man who will live with a collection of alien penises in his house because he loves his woman so much would understand why you couldn’t help who you wanted either. Even if it was his daughter. Besides, he’s worked side-by-side with you. He likes and respects you. And so long as you treat me well, I can guarantee you that he is not going to have a problem with this.”

“He’s gonna find out what I did to you a while back. He might have a problem with that.”

“So, he gives you a talking to about how he expects you to treat me. You’re a big guy, you can handle it,” she said as her hips dropped down a bit. “A very big guy,” she added as my cock pressed against her.

“Billie…”

“Can you feel this?” she asked, sliding so my cock pressed between her thighs, and she did a little circle with her hips. “It’s okay if you can’t,” she added as her hands slid up and down my stomach and chest.

“I can,” I admitted. The numbness had been getting better. I’d been a little worried that overdoing it might set me back in that department too. But, clearly, things were okay there.

“Well… then I know another kind of medicine we should try too,” she told me with a wicked little smile before rolling her hips again.

“Tell me you don’t want me, and I will stop,” she told me, shrugging.

“I can’t tell you that,” I admitted. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I’m never going to stop wanting you.”

“Well then, that’s all I needed to hear.”