“No, you’re still sick.”
“You’re not in fucking high school or Disneyland, PG. You’re at Koyn’s compound. Everything we do is sick in some form. It’s fucking rich coming from you. Acting like you’re some prissy bitch. Like you weren’t sleeping with the enemy’s son.”
“Why is Magna the enemy?”
He shrugs. “Not my story to tell.”
“Useless bastard.”
“Useless to you because I don’t want your teenage cunt. But not useless to Prez.”
“Want a fucking cookie? I’ll have Bermuda put it on the shopping list.”
“Did your daddy ever wash that mouth out with soap? You’re mouthy as shit, PG.”
I scowl at him and shove him before stalking back toward the house. He’s soundless, but I feel his oppressive presence behind me.
“If I tell you who I am, you’ll just let me walk out of here?” I ask over my shoulder.
He laughs. “You’re not walking anywhere. Prez will deliver you himself.”
The thought of leaving and going back home makes me shudder. Nope. I quite like my freedom, even if it means being held in a swanky Man Mansion surrounded by trees. There are worse prisons—like under Magna’s nose.
“Get lost, loser.”
“Nice try,” he says with a sigh, stopping his stalking after me the moment I reach the back patio. “I’ll be around, little girl. Always watching. Remember that.”
Fucking prick.
Koyn
“Two of Magna’s guys got out.”
I lift my gaze from my computer to frown at Copper. “How do you know?”
“I pulled the report after the fire to make sure nothing incriminating was left behind. The notes showed a picture of the row of bikes out front, but a few were missing from the formation. After pulling the tags on them all, I found that Junior’s was there. Putnam was off the grid, so his bike must have been under an alias and one of the ones missing.”
“How many others?”
“Two.”
“So he’s got two of his men.” I scrub my palm over my face and sigh. “They haven’t popped up anywhere. You’ve called all the local chapters?”
“And checked out the local police databases. They ghosted out of there.”
“Putnam may have disappeared once before, but he won’t do it again. Not like that. This time he’s running from me, not the law. He’s too arrogant to stay hidden for long.”
Copper and Halo nod.
“Where’s Bermuda?” I ask, scanning my light group of men today.
Dragon looks up from his laptop and laughs. “He’s with Stormy.”
Filter doesn’t even flinch, which means not in a sexual way.
“The store?”
“They’re planning Thanksgiving,” Dragon says with a grin.
“Tell ’em I want sweet potato casserole,” Bizzy chimes in. “Not with that marshmallow crap on it. Momma used to make it with brown sugar and pecans—”
“Go tell him yourself,” I snap, cutting him off. “Dragon, what’s the status on Hadley’s social media.”
His eyes narrow as he shoves his laptop my way. “Found this.”
I’m expecting a narrowed list like I’d asked for, but instead, I find one Facebook profile. Jane Don’t. The fakest name ever. I click on the profile picture. A picture of long legs in a pair of black heels. Same long legs that were wrapped around me last night.
As I study the picture, I will my hard-on to go away. I almost fucked her. Rubbed all up on her like she was fucking mine. My dick strains against my jeans as I skim my eyes along her bare flesh on the screen. The girl is maddening. I need to quickly figure out where the fuck she lives so I can get rid of her. Last night felt…too good. I don’t do good. Good makes you weak and blind and vulnerable. I’ll be goddamned if I’m ever weak again.
“You’re sure this is her?” I ask, though I know for a fact.
“Come on, Prez, we both know those are her legs.” Dragon lives to fucking taunt, and most days I find humor in it. Not today.
I cut my eyes over to his and Filter stands, clutching Dragon’s shoulder.
“Wanna grab a smoke?” Filter asks Dragon.
They both rise and Bizzy follows after them, leaving just me, Copper, and Halo.
I return my attention back to the screen and start skimming through Jane Don’t’s friend list. Several of the men and women affiliated with Putnam’s MC are on that list, including Junior. I get lost down a rabbit hole for a bit searching for the two guys that got away with Putnam. When I don’t find anything, I go back to her friend list.
Nicolette Genworth.
I click on the “friend” of Jane Don’t and am stunned by what I see. Hadley. Plain as fuck. Prissy, beautiful, rich. In every picture she’s making one of those stupid duck faces Blaire used to make. You can tell Hadley is used to being a princess based on all her pictures. Both guys and girls seem to look at her as if she’s royalty. Her wicked smirks in several of the photos tells me she knows she’s hot and popular. It’s so reminiscent of Blaire that it makes my stomach clench violently.
“What is it?” Copper demands. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Nah, just nearly fucked one.
I’m such a sick fucking freak.
Rubbing bare on the pussy of some girl who looks like my daughter. What the fuck is even wrong with me?
“Nicolette Genworth of Dallas, Texas. Run it through your systems. Halo, you too. Find out everything you can about her. From what I can tell, she’s just like every other spoiled little rich girl. She wanted a taste of a darker life and went for it.” I lean back in my chair and meet Copper’s gaze. “We’ll get through Thanksgiving, gather more information, and then we’ll ditch the girl.”
Copper seems relieved, which is annoying as hell. It’s not like I actually did fuck the teenager. I have some semblance of self-control. I may be a ruthless MC prez, but I’m nothing like Putnam.
My brother nods and Halo grunts. They both go back to work on their computers while I stalk out the girl a little more. In every picture, she’s wearing a different headband. Like it’s her signature thing. I haven’t seen her in one the entire time I’ve had her.
After scrolling through a lot of pictures, I come across one of her and an older man who looks just like her. His face is familiar to me, though I can’t place it. The caption says, “We miss you, Momma.”
She didn’t tag the man in the picture, because from experience I know it’s uncool to tag your parents, but it’s evident he’s her father.
“Genworth,” I tell Copper. “Find out everything you can about the Genworth name—specifically about Hadley’s father.”
I email him the picture of the two of them and then snap my laptop closed.
“Where are you headed?” Copper asks, his brows furling.
“Talk to Hadley.”
Before he can open his mouth, I wave him off.
“Not about this. I don’t need her running off until we have a clearer picture. I’m just going to see if I can find anything else out.”