He nods, his body tense and his hands fidgeting at his sides before he shoves them in his pockets. “I am.”
“Care to tell the people of Baton Rouge what your club has against them and why you’re threatening to hurt people?”
“We’re not,” he answers. “That video isn’t real.”
She frowns, glancing back at the camera with a worried expression before facing us again. “I see… and what about the other videos? Are you saying they’re all fake?”
“What videos?” Storm asks, glancing over at me but I have no fucking clue what he’s talking about. Her gaze flicks between the two of us as she takes a fraction of a step back. It’s a subtle tell but one we both notice.
That’s it.
Our fates are sealed.
“There are eight other videos that were posted to the Bayou Devils website. Do you really expect people to believe that you don’t know what I’m talking about?” she asks and Storm nudges me before tilting his head to the clubhouse and I nod as he turns back to Christina Hill.
“Ma’am, the Bayou Devils don’t have a website so yes, we have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I turn and start walking back to the clubhouse as she asks him another question and when I’m far enough away from them to not draw a ton of attention to myself, I pick up the pace, running across the pavement as my mind races. Storm is right. The club doesn’t have a website or any social media and though I’ve thought about making one in the past, we all decided as a group that it was best if we did our work through word of mouth instead. Most of the time, it allows us the privacy we need to protect the people we rescue as well as ourselves.
When I get inside, I run over to the stairs and race up them, drawing looks from Kodiak, Chance, and Blaze as they sit around on the couches talking, but I don’t have time to stop to explain what is going on. Once I’m in my room, I sink into my chair and wiggle the mouse to wake up my computer. The screen springs to life and I fire up the internet before navigating to the search engine and typing the club’s name into the search bar. As soon as I hit enter, a page of results pop up and the first website claims to be the official site for the Bayou Devils MC. I click on it and hold my breath as the page loads.
The home screen doesn’t have much on it, except the video of Storm and my heart hammers in my chest when I see the little arrow on the side of the screen. I click it. Another video slides into the same place, this one of Chance and I press play as my stomach rolls.
“For far too long, the city of Baton Rouge has looked down on us, casting us as villains without any proof and we’ve taken it. We live with it every day despite the work we do to protect our neighbors. I’ve been glared at, mothers have moved across the street with their children when they see me coming, and I’ve even been spit on. For what? The way I look? The tattoos on my arms? The cut I wear? We’ve had enough…”
I pause the video and shove away from the desk as I lean back in my chair and run my hand through my hair as I struggle to form a single thought. Time seems to slow as I stare at the screen and every cell in my body aches to take action, do something about this but I can’t come up with anything. Shaking my head, I roll forward and click the arrow again, revealing a video of Moose but I can’t stand to watch it yet so I keep clicking through video after video until I get back to Storm’s. There is one for each of us and no doubt, each one promises pain, violence, and bloodshed to the citizens of Baton Rouge - our home, our city.
Ringing echoes around the room and I blink at the screen a few times, unable to process what it is, before it finally registers. Sucking in a breath, I dig my phone out of my pocket. “Hello?”
“Hi, Travis,” Warren says, his voice sickeningly cheerful and I turn away from the computer as I grit my teeth and glare out of my window where Christina is still interviewing Storm. Blaze has joined him but I’m not sure that will help anything. It seems like she has already found us guilty and with the evidence she has, I can’t blame her.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Gosh.” He chuckles. “So hostile. I was just calling to chat. I noticed that you got my little present and before you say anything, I know Christmas was two days ago but I’ve been so busy, you know?”
Scanning my room, I wonder how in the hell he’s watching me - something else I haven’t been able to figure out despite my relentless digging but nothing has turned up.
“Travis, you still there?”
“You enjoying yourself?” I snarl before shaking my head. My head is still so fucking fuzzy and it’s making me ask him dumb questions. Shaking my head in an attempt to clear it, I suck in a breath and turn back to the computer.
Jesus, get it together, Broussard.
He laughs again. “Oh, immensely. So… do you like my present? I know it’s not as nice the one you gave Rowan on Christmas Eve but I really tried.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
He tsks before releasing a heavy sigh into the phone. “Are you okay, Travis? You don’t quite sound like yourself. Have you been getting enough sleep?”
“Shut up,” I snap, that all too familiar feeling of wanting to put my fist through a wall flooding my body as I grip the arm of my office chair until my hands ache.
“That’s no way to talk to the man who holds all of your friends’ lives in his hand,” he murmurs, sounding disappointed and my stomach rolls at his ability to sound completely sincere no matter what emotion he’s portraying. “You do remember what will happen if you reveal any of this information to your brothers, right?”
I nod. “I remember.”
“Excellent. I’m glad we’re on the same page… although, I would love any excuse to finally get my hands on our little Rowan. I’ve been dreaming about her every night, you know, and the anticipation is just killing me.”
I want to fucking rage at him, scream and tell him to stay the hell away from her but that hasn’t worked in the past and as I think about him actually laying his hands on her, I struggle to take a breath. I need to find something else, a way to discourage him from going after her but what can I do? As I rake my hand through my hair, I wonder if he is only focused on her because of me and if I reacted with disinterest, he would lose interest. Sucking in a breath, I try to calm my frazzled nerves as I shrug.
“Go ahead. She is just another in a long line of women I’ve fucked and honestly, I’ll get bored with her soon enough.”
He roars with laughter and my chest feels like it’s going to explode. “Did you really think that would work? My infatuation with Rowan has absolutely nothing to do with you, Travis. I want her. I have from the moment I watched you press her perky tits up against your window, putting her on display for me. Torturing you with it all is just an added bonus.”
There is a pounding in my ears and spots flash in my vision as I think about him watching us that first night we were together. He would have had to been outside the clubhouse to see what we did and knowing he was right there makes my blood boil. How many other signs have we missed?
“Nothing to say to that, old friend?” he asks and I shake my head. “Fine, then. I’d better get going anyway. There is so much work left to do before we end this but I’ll talk to you soon.”