Further inside, I find more of the same. The flower vase on the large table that seems to serve no purpose is also on the ground, along with a dozen different pieces of mail. The kitchen floor is wet from a broken glass, and even in the dark, I can feel the heat from the oven.
“The oven is hot,” I tell Coop and open the oven door. “Pizza cooking in the oven means they were surprised.” Which doesn’t make sense because this house is like Fort fucking Knox. “Look for points of entry.”
We split up and search every inch of the house, and quickly, the lights come on, and the alarm turns off.
“Thank fuck, Wilder must have found the code,” I mutter to Coop though he can’t hear me.
Down the hall to the left of the kitchen, I find a pantry full of cans and jars, a few food items in boxes. Just past that is a utility room with cleaning supplies and a small window. A small broken window.
“Got one,” I shout for Coop.
A second later, Coop laughs in reply. “Same here.”
The gears in my head churn with all the possibilities of what the women went through.
“Rich people,” Coop murmurs behind me. “More money than sense. The window just beside the giant home office isn’t connected to the alarm.
“Neither is this one.” I shake my head and turn to him. “I guess one of us needs to talk to their father about the importance of proper security.”
“Don’t look at me.” Coop holds up his hands and shakes his head. “My woman lives with me. Yours on the other hand, well…” he shrugs and lets the words trail off with intent.
“Fuck,” I growl. “This is definitely Hector’s doing, but the question is where would they take them? That old warehouse is burned to the ground, so that’s out of the question.”
Coop nods. “And we fucked up a lot of their other properties, so who knows? We can always ask Nico?”
“Shades took care of him,” I say.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. You don’t have some type of tracker on Kelsey or her phone?”
He tosses his head back and laughs. “I love my woman, and I love getting laid whenever I want, so no, I don’t have a fucking tracker on Kelsey’s anything. She never goes anywhere.”
“Let’s lock the door and get the fuck outta here, then.”
Coop nods and follows me out, closing the door behind us. We hop on our bikes and exit the fancy neighborhood in opposite directions just to be safe.
I can’t stop thinking about how afraid McKenna and Kelsey must be in the company of those twisted Iron Kings fucks. This life, the biker life, is so far out of McKenna’s experience that she’s probably throwing a fit, using that haughty voice she pulls out when she’s nervous and out of her element.
On the heels of that thought comes another. Her haughty attitude might not be so cute to the Iron Kings, which means she’s going to get hurt. Badly.
Or worse.
Worse than what they did to Kelsey. And that thought scares the shit out of me.
I rev the engine on the freeway and let the cool evening wind brush against my overheated flesh. It’s a nice distraction, the wind and the road, from the shit show currently going down all around me. But once I pull into the clubhouse and cut my engine, the thoughts return once again.
McKenna. Afraid and mouthy.
Kelsey. Traumatized all over again.
Hector and Nogales. The crazed fucks they’ve always been.
It’s too much, and I know exactly what I need before the next fucking shoe drops. An hour—or two—at the gym.
But that’s not an option, so I take my time before entering the clubhouse where I know my brothers are waiting for me to issue orders, to command them to go balls out to fuck up all that Hector and the Iron Kings hold dear.
I just need a moment to myself. A moment to just be me. Not Ace, but Mark, the man McKenna sees when she looks at me, when she gives herself to me freely.
I’d love to be that man every single fucking day, but I don’t even know who Mark is anymore. I know Ace. He is me, and I am him. But goddammit, if I don’t want to be Mark when McKenna calls me by my real name and looks at me like I’m a man worthy of a woman like her.
“Ace, I got something you should see.” Wild Man’s voice manages to break through my thoughts. I turn to face him.
“Let’s see it,” I tell him and head inside, where the rest of the MC waits with looks of anger and sympathy for me.
“I’m fine,” I growl and follow Wild Man to his setup on the bar. “What have you got?”
“Footage from McKenna’s doorbell and the aftermarket surveillance system. “Take a look.”