He tuts at me. “Stop it with the suicide threats. No, you won’t. I see how much you want to live, Camile. I see that fire in your dark eyes. You’ll fight to live with every inch of your soul, and I’ll enjoy putting out that spark. Now, tell me where your family’s safehouse is.”
I shake my head and brace myself for what comes next. “Never.”
2
JACK
I failed her.
I fucking failed her.
That’s the one all-consuming thought that fills me as the club members I trust the most file into my office so we can try to figure out what the fuck happened to Camile. I’ve only experienced such guilt and regret like this once before, and I’d have walked through the fires of hell to never have to sit with this sick fucking twisted feeling in my belly again.
Maybe I’m not fit to lead this club or fit to be the kind of man women fall for, the way Camile clearly has. I failed my wife, and now I’ve failed Camile.
Thank God my daughter has her three men, because if she had to rely on me for her safety, I’d probably fail her, too, one day. The fact that I keep repeating this pattern is something I need to deal with at some point, but right now I must focus on Camile and getting her back safe and sound.
What has happened to her is entirely my fault. She could have been in her dorm room right now, reading her books, or sitting drinking coffee with her friends. But no, I insisted I was the safest bet for her. After what happened to my wife, why the hell did I think such a stupid thing?
Camile had begged me to let her go back to the college, and I convinced her not to. In fact, I hadn’t just convinced her, I’d insisted the compound was the safest place for her. That I would keep her safe. But I was wrong. Someone has come onto my territory and taken her. Besides my daughter, Vani, Camile is the most important person in my life, and I’ve been stupidly late to understanding the way I feel. Whoever took her are audacious bastards, and they’ve not only committed a crime against this club but me personally.
And I will make them pay. If it’s the last thing I do, I will destroy them. They don’t know who they’ve fucked with, and I will make them regret so much as learning Camile’s name.
My mind keeps flicking to the worst possible thought. Are we too late? Is she already dead? Has she been raped and murdered by some sons of bitches? The possibility sickens me right down to my soul.
I’ve always felt like a strong man. Practically fucking immortal. But in recent years, events have knocked that foundation right out from under me. I thought things were terrible enough when I lost my wife to a tragic accident. I never thought I could feel that way again, never thought that level of grief could affect me in my life. I had, for a long time, believed myself to be numb. It was a lie because the moment a petite girl with dark hair andflashing eyes came into my life, I fell hard. I denied it, though, because I was too much of a coward to face reality. Yet this has made me feel as though I’ve forgotten how to even breathe. My head is spinning, and I need to grab the edge of my desk just to remember how to stay on my feet.
Someone knows who has taken her. I’ll find out who and make them speak. I’ll enjoy it, too. Hearing those bastards scream will be the highlight of my life. I couldn’t take out my anger at my wife’s death on anyone, as it was an accident, so I turned the blame inward. But this is no accident. The rage I’ve been feeling for years, burning deep inside my gut, that I pushed down every single day, is finally bubbling its way out. I’m like a volcano about to blow.
They took what was mine. And I will burn the world and them and everything they love to ashes to bring her back.
This has to be connected to what happened to her family back home. It’s the only thing that makes sense. But while I know motorcycle clubs, I don’t know the cartel—and I don’t want to admit it, but I feel like I’m way out of my fucking depth.
From the grim expressions on my club members’ faces, they feel the same way.
My closest allies take seats in the office, dropping their large frames into chairs. A bleak atmosphere settles over us. They already know why they’re here; I sent word around as soon as I knew. Ghost, Ace, Saul, our club lawyer, Normie, and one of the senior members, Becker. The rest of the club is not invited.
My gaze focuses on Ace. He’s lost his usual bouncydemeanor. Instead, he sits with his legs spread, his elbows on his knees, and his face in his hands.
“You were the last one to see her,” I address him. “How did she seem?”
Ace clears his throat and looks up. “I wasn’t the last one to see her—or at least, I wasn’t the only one. Rook was there, too.”
I grind my teeth so hard I think I might crack a molar. “Why was Rook there?”
Ace clears his throat again, dragging a hand through his mop of unruly curls. “We, um… did what you said.” His cheeks flush pink. “We helped her feel better.”
We have CCTV from the house—footage I didn’t even know existed until this morning. But I haven’t gone far back enough into it yet to see what happened earlier in the day, before Camile went to bed and was snatched in the night. I realize exactly what it will show—myCamile with Ace and Rook making her feel better, just like I’d instructed.
I drag a hand down my face, over the coarse hair of my beard.
Fuck. I can’t decide if I can’t bear to watch it or if I want to pull it up right now and go through every second.
Ghost must have seen it, too, but he’s kept that part quiet. No wonder. I shoot my club enforcer a look, but he doesn’t meet my eye. Yeah, the fucker watched it. What was he doing while it streamed live? I can guess. Probably the same thing I’m thinking about now, my cock hardening in my jeans, despite the terrible situation.
I tear my thoughts away from the filth and refocus. None of that matters now. Besides, I was the one who encouraged Ace to go and be with Camile. Still, I’mjealous—irrationally jealous. Bright green fury blooms inside me, threatening to burn everything down. They got to touch her, kiss her, be inside her, hear the little sounds she makes when she comes.
Okay… maybe I’ve done some of that myself. Even so, I let the thought trail off, realizing I’m heading down that path again when I need to focus. I must put my feelings to one side. I can deal with my men later.
