I flicked off the monitor and turned to the task at hand. Using an untraceable line, I had a face-to-face call with Matteo and Marcus. It was later in the day in the part of the world where they lived. We exchanged pleasantries, and I had to smile at the sound of children’s voices in the background and Evie calling to them. Matteo grinned, not at all apologetic.
“Bedtime.” He chuckled dryly. “Always a production. I never knew how imperative a glass of water could become. Any delay, actually.”
Not wanting to take up much of their time, I asked some questions about biker gangs and their thoughts and any dealings they’d had with them. Matteo frowned, shaking his head.
“Most of them are lower-level crimes. Drugs seem to be their thing, not slavery or selling women and children, so they were never on our radar. The RCMP are usually on top of them. The worst ones are given priority. Why the sudden interest in a biker gang?”
I hesitated then told them. They exchanged a glance, then Marcus spoke.
“You have a personal interest in this woman?”
I scrubbed my hand over my face. “Yeah, I do.”
“She is, ah, important?”
I hesitated. “Yeah, she fucking is.” Then I couldn’t shut up. “I hired her even though I knew I shouldn’t. It was as if someone else had taken over my mind and body. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I felt like a fucking stalker. And it’s only gotten worse.”
I rubbed my eyes and told them what had occurred on the weekend. How she cared for me. The attack. My reaction. The intensity of what I felt for her. The gist of her story.
Marcus grinned. “Lightning again, Julian?”
I met their eyes, serious. “I would kill for her. Without thought.”
Matteo’s eyebrows shot up. “Then keep your head in the game, Julian. Find out what you can, but if they aren’t a threat to her, leave it alone. Don’t start a war you don’t need to. Leave them to the RCMP and their fate. If they’re a danger to her, then you know what to do, but do it properly.”
“I can’t stand the thought of any threat to her,” I admitted. “Jesus, how did the two of you handle this shit? I feel as if I’m going to come out of my skin. I want to lock her up in a room and never let her out.”
They both had the nerve to laugh. “Now you understand our reactions.”
Matteo leaned closer to the camera. “Bring her here. She would be completely safe. Evie and Missy would befriend her.”
“And what the hell am I supposed to do without her?” I snapped without thinking.
Marcus shook his head. “It’s simple, Julian. If you love her—and I think you do—you give up that life and make a new one with her. Here.”
I stared at the screen in silence.
“We all find our reason,” Matteo said. “We all reach that point where we want more than we can get from fighting a never-ending battle. We have to let others carry on while we choose a different path. If you aren’t ready now, you will be soon. Think it over.”
I nodded, still silent.
“Bring her here for a vacation. See how it feels. You would be welcome.”
Damien entered the room and stopped to say hello to them as I sat, my mind racing. I ended the call, their words echoing in my head. I shook it to clear the thoughts and focused on Damien.
“What did you find?”
He shook his head. “They’re a bunch of scum. Drug dealers, into loan-sharking, prostitution. The women all appear to be of age, though.” He lifted a shoulder at my inquisitive stare. “I can’t say if they’re willing or not. The club keeps a pretty low profile. They’ve been raided, charged, let off, got a slap on the wrist, and done it all over a few times. Nothing seems to stick much.” He rubbed his chin. “But there’s something there. I can feel it. I need to dig more.”
“Any information on Tally’s brother, Dean?”
He tapped on his keyboard. “Well, since their online security was for shit, I was able to get right into their system. They keep lousy records, although I found a few things. There is a Dean Bedford. Long list of charges. He’s the leader of the group. Usurped the old one.”
Damien looked up. “Funny enough, the old leader has never been seen since Dean staged a coup.”
“Has to be a different Dean. Her brother’s dead.”
Damien spun his laptop. “Is he?”
I stared at the picture on his screen. The picture of the biker wouldn’t have caught my eye except for one thing. The wild copper hair. Even with it brushed back and wrapped in a bandanna, Dean’s bright hair color was still visible. I narrowed my eyes, studying the picture. That was the only similarity. It had to be a coincidence. This man was rugged, with a heavy beard. Cold, dark eyes. Again, my gaze went to his hair. It set him apart from the other bikers.