Train's Clash (Biker Bitches 4) - Page 114

“I couldn’t take your money.” She gently took it out of his hands before going to the window and letting the morning sun hit it. “Rae was talking about you when she posed for this. I know she loves you. She may not have told you, but she does.”

Train felt the fragile thread of hope strengthen.

“Do you know why she would have stolen my friend’s key?”

She shook her head. “No.” Then she briskly set the sculpture on a worktable that had some drawings. “But yesterday morning, Hammer and Jonas came by and told me they were meeting Killyama. They didn’t want to come inside, so they stayed out on the front porch until she arrived.” She rubbed her temples with her slender fingers as she recounted what happened. “I was in the kitchen, and I couldn’t hear much …”

“What did you hear?” Train moved nearer to the table.

“She was begging Jonas not to tell her something about The Last Riders.”

Train felt his stomach clench in dread. The Last Riders kept a lot of secrets. One in particular that could destroy the whole club was buried a mile away from the clubhouse, on more property they owned. There was no way Hammer or Jonas could know about it, because it was only known by the founding members. None of the other brothers knew about it. Razer, Shade, Knox, Lucky, Cash, Rider, Viper, and Train himself would kill anyone in a heartbeat who tried to expose that secret.

Cash and Shade had found the spot when they had searched for Gavin after he had gone missing. Afraid he could have been lost or hurt, they had searched the entire mountainside, finding the two huge moss covered rocks that the men had to squeeze through to come out on the other side and into a large plain surrounded by rocks on three sides and the mountain at its back. The men had come to the conclusion that it must have been a crater that had been filled with time.

“Did you hear what Jonas said?” he asked.

“No. They went to Hammer’s SUV and stayed there for almost an hour. When she came out, she went to her car and left. Hammer and Jonas came in to eat lunch, but they acted like everything was okay.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

Peyton looked like she wanted to say something else, yet she couldn’t make up her mind.

“I know you’ve only met me one time, but I keep my word. You can trust me,” Train assured her.

“I hope so. I won’t be the only one hurt if you break your word to me.” She straightened her shoulders like she was bolstering her courage. Then she walked to one of two closets in the room.

He didn’t move, intuitively knowing she didn’t want him to see what was inside as she slid the closet door open. However, he couldn’t help seeing more shelves of tiny sculptures.

She pulled one from a shelf, bringing it back to the worktable and setting it down next to the one of Killyama.

As Train stared down at the man’s face, it took him a minute of admiring the piece before he actually began to realize the face was familiar to him. He tried to place who it belonged to, but he couldn’t.

“Who is this?”

“Maybe this will help.” Peyton went back to the closet. “Rae doesn’t let me keep anything of his around. She doesn’t want to see it.” She reached up to the top shelf, taking down a scrapbook, before coming back to the table and shoving her drawings to the side.

Opening the book, Train was floored at the image staring back at him.

“Major Timothy Cooper,” Peyton said.

“I know who he is … He was in the SEALs. I never served with him, but anyone who’s a SEAL knows of him. He’s the one who inspired hundreds of men to join the Navy. He’s won medals that are almost impossible to win.”

“He’s Rae’s father.” She flipped the next page over. It showed the major holding a crying baby as Peyton looked lovingly at the man who showed no pride or affection for the tiny infant he held. “I met him when I was sixteen. I had gone to stay with my aunt and uncle when my mother was killed in a car accident.

“I was jogging one day when a man tried to drag me off the path. Timothy stopped him. He helped me home and stayed with me until my aunt could come home.” She ran a graceful hand over the picture; love in every brush of her fingers. “I became infatuated with him. I saw him several times when I went out jogging, and he would stop to talk to me. He would walk me home”—she looked up from the picture, blushing—“and I invited him inside.

“I didn’t know he was still married then. Truthfully, I was so in love with him I don’t think it would have mattered, anyway. He told me he was separated from his wife. Then, when he was selected to become one of the president’s pilots, he admitted he was getting back together with her, that the president wouldn’t allow any unmarried men on his team. That’s what he told me.”

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