Hack: Silver Saints MC Read online

  As I walked past them, Jessica snickered, “Like it’ll be for her.”

  I was tempted to stomp up the stairs, but whoever was at the door rapped their knuckles against it again as I neared. Flinging it open, I was prepared to wave them inside and disappear, but when I saw who was standing at our step, all I wanted to do was slam the door shut and run upstairs. For the first time since they’d moved in, I was grateful for my roommates. The odds of a decorated cop doing anything to hurt me with three witnesses only ten feet away were slim. All I had to do was get through this confrontation, and then I was out of here.

  There was nothing to keep me in town. My classes were done, and I had returned my textbook rentals after my last final. I hadn’t elected to walk during graduation, and the school was going to mail my diploma to my parents’ house. I’d applied for a few jobs but hadn’t accepted anything yet. My lease wasn’t up for another two and a half months, so I hadn’t been in a rush to find a new place. I could disappear without a trace for a while without worrying anyone—which was good if I was the one doing the running and bad if John Clark wanted to get rid of me.

  2

  Hack

  I was starting to worry that I would lose my fucking mind if I gave Paisley any more “space.” I was never far from her unless I was on club business. But when that happened, I had someone watching over her.

  She was about to graduate, and I was done waiting. The beast inside me had been caged far too long, and the bars were nearly bent open. I’d been away on club business for the past three days, and it had nearly killed me, so I’d informed Mac, the prez, that I was taking some time off until I brought Paisley home with me. Considering the way he’d stolen and kept his wife, he was pretty understanding. In fact, most of my brothers had been mighty impressed with my patience. I was just as shocked as they were.

  I brought my motorcycle to a stop in a parking spot only a few doors down from Paisley’s. My eyes swept the lot, and I frowned when I didn’t spot her little silver car. I kicked the stand down on my bike and stepped to the ground before swinging my other leg over the back. After grabbing my keys and shoving them in my pocket, I hurried down the sidewalk to apartment 4A. I stayed out of sight, mostly, over the months, but my instincts were shouting that something was wrong, so I decided it was time to make my presence known.

  I knocked on the door and waited. Paisley had three roommates, and I’d seen all of their cars in the parking lot. The man I’d had on her had said Paisley was home too, so I didn’t understand why her vehicle was missing. Finally, a girl opened the door and giggled. “Hello, handsome,” she purred, making me cringe. All the girls in the apartment were over eighteen, but this one clearly had some maturing to do—physically and mentally.

  “Where’s Paisley?” I asked gruffly, getting right to the point rather than acknowledging her inappropriate behavior.

  Her lips tipped down in a pout that was probably supposed to be sexy, but just looked like my four-year-old niece when she wanted me to wear a crown at her tea parties. “She’s not here. But I’m sure I can help you out with whatever you need.”

  I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath, praying for patience. “I need Paisley. Can you help me with that, little girl?”

  Her face twisted in anger, and she huffed. “I don’t know where that little mouse is. Some old guy stopped by and freaked her out. Next thing we knew, she’d packed a bag and left without a word.”

  Son of a fucking bitch!

  I didn’t bother to reply before taking off toward my bike. Somehow, I just knew that motherfucker hadn’t kept his “word.” As I stalked back to where I was parked, I sent a text to Dom.

  Me: Asshole didn’t keep his end of the deal. Went to check on Paisley. She’s gone.

  Dom: Be on the road in twenty.

  A small amount of relief trickled through me when I sent and received similar exchanges with several of my other brothers.

  By the time I reached my ride, I’d sent over a dozen messages and had an army of people looking for her. As well as digging into John Clark’s latest activities. He wasn’t gonna get a second chance. I was taking that motherfucker down.

  I went to the hotel where we’d stayed after confronting the Clarks and set up a tactical command center. One of our prospects, Benji, was almost as good with a computer as me, so I put in a call to him, and we discussed some strategies, particularly to find out what had spooked Paisley.

  “What’s your instinct telling you?” he asked while I listened to the click-click of his keyboard over the connection.

  “John Clark,” I spit. The name tasted dirty in my mouth.

  “Then I’ll dig into him first.”

  “Call me in an hour to check in. And don’t forget to run Paisley’s credit cards and check her phone history.” I could practically hear Benji roll his eyes. That was all pretty standard stuff, and he probably didn’t need me to tell him to do it. But I wasn’t taking anything for granted, and lucky for me, a prospect’s job was to shut up and do whatever a patch told them to do.

  “Sure, man,” he agreed, doing a decent job of keeping his annoyance out of his tone.

  I hung up and dropped into a wooden chair with a plastic-covered cushion and back. It would take my brothers at least four hours on their bikes, and there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d be able to sit around and wait that long. Besides, if I didn’t stay busy, I was just going to get angrier over the fact that Paisley hadn’t contacted me when she realized she was in trouble.

  After getting around the hotel’s firewalls, I did a little magic that would keep me from leaving any evidence trails wherever I went digging. The first place I broke into was the prison server where they housed the records.

  When we were done scaring the living shit out of John Clark, I’d known we couldn’t leave the innocent girl he’d had put away rot in prison. She was only guilty of dating a fucking douche, who turned out to be a murderer.

  So, I’d done what I do best and searched every nook and cranny of the internet until I found the information I needed to get her released. John had tried to delete everything, but it’s almost impossible to truly wipe anything out of cyberspace. I’d gathered up as much evidence as I could find—holding up my end of the bargain and leaving John Clark out of it—and sent it to the District Attorney’s office

  The records confirmed that she’d been released a few days ago. It wasn’t like she knew there’d been a suppressed witness, so I was almost positive she wasn’t the one who’d sent Paisley on the run. Still, I shot off a text to Benji to look into Sarah’s activities since she was freed.

  Scouring traffic cams in the area wasn’t a fast or easy job, and I was so engrossed in it that I didn’t notice the time until a hard rap on the hotel room door got my attention. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure who it was, and considering what I was up to was illegal, I shut off the displays on my computers and stalked over to the door rather than just yelling for them to enter. When I swung it open, Dax, our sergeant at arms, and enforcers, Dom and Nova, stood outside looking like a mother’s worst nightmare. All three of them were badass motherfuckers, and I was damn glad to have them by my side.

  I stepped back to allow them in, then shut the door behind them and returned to the table to get back to the surveillance cams.

  “What do you know?” Dom asked.

  I filled them in on everything I’d learned. My only interruption during the time alone had been a couple of texts from Benji about John Clark’s recent activities, which seemed to revolve around a local gang who ran coke. And not because he was busting them. But he hadn’t found a trace of Paisley. I was trying not to panic, but the longer we went without finding her, the bigger chance that she was in the wind and lost to me.

  The guys used the facilities and ordered some food while I continued to search. Finally, I hit pay dirt. I’d missed it on the surveillance cam in Paisley’s parking lot because John was driving a different car, one that wasn’t registered to him or a rental.
He’d also lost some weight, and his hair had a hell of a lot more gray than the last time I saw him. He’d shown up at Paisley’s a few hours before I’d come to check on her. He hadn’t stayed long, and he’d looked fucking pissed when he stalked out to his car. At least he hadn’t been dragging my girl along with him.

  I scoured the lot for Paisley’s little silver coup, but as I’d thought, it was nowhere to be seen all night. If she’d left in her own car, it had to have been parked somewhere else. There were a few spots along the road on the side of the building, but there were no cameras that covered that small area.

  I’d checked the footage at most of the local gas stations, but there was a mom-and-pop shop—the Penny Station—a couple of blocks away that had a single pump and a small convenience store. Unsurprisingly, they had a dinosaur of a security system. “Who the fuck still uses videotapes?” I muttered. It was brilliant in one way because they were unhackable. But I highly doubted that they were using them in a strategy for security. My guess was they were just old as dirt.

  There was a laundromat across the street that had a camera, though, and I scanned through it as quickly as I could. About two hours after John had departed her building, Paisley’s car had rolled into the Penny Station. She’d filled her car and gone inside for approximately seven minutes, then returned to her car and headed north on the highway.

  Now that I had at least a time and direction, it was easier to follow her through the traffic cams. Eventually, she slowed down and turned into the lot of a busy twenty-four-hour diner that I was quite familiar with. My eyes narrowed as I followed her every movement, suspicion trickling into my mind. She didn’t.

  She parked her car and hopped out with a small duffel bag that she slung over her shoulder. Then she looked around before walking toward the road. Holy fuck. She did.

  Dom started laughing, and I realized he was looking at my screen over my shoulder. “No way.”

  I would have glared at him, but I couldn't take my eyes off my girl as she crossed the street, coming closer and closer to the camera I was watching her through. The feed was less than four hours old, which just served to piss me off even more. All this time, she’d been right under my nose.

  Dax and Nova joined in his laughter, and when Paisley disappeared into the lobby of our hotel, I tore my eyes away to scowl darkly at them.

  “She’s been right here the whole time?” Dax asked as he laughed uproariously.

  Right then, my phone rang. “What?” I snapped when I answered.

  “Found some disturbing activity for John Clark.”

  “Send me the details,” I demanded as I broke into the hotel’s registration records. I knew to look for a name that held some significance to her, so I spotted Polly Benson pretty quickly. I’d spent the past six months learning everything there was to know about my girl, including family history. Polly and Benson were her mother’s and father’s names.

  I noted the room number, then shot to my feet and grabbed the cut I’d discarded on the bed a few hours before. After yanking it on, I grabbed my boots and sat on the bed to don those as well. “Benji is sending over some dirt on John Clark. Need you three to round him up and get your hands on the physical proof.” Once I was dressed, I grabbed my wallet and room key and stowed them in my jeans as I stalked to the door.

  “What are you gonna do?” Nova asked.

  Dom cuffed him on the back of the head and scoffed, “Go after his woman, jackass.”

  Yeah, I was going after her. And I was going to kiss the fuck out of her. Then I’d spank her cute little ass until my handprint was practically tattooed there. It was time Paisley learned who she belonged to.

  3

  Paisley

  The only thought on my mind when I left my house was to find somewhere safe to hole up until someone from the Silver Saints MC could get to me. I had planned to call Hack, my contact with them, as soon as I got into my hotel room, but I was a sobbing mess when the door shut behind me. I flopped face-down onto the mattress and cried my eyes out until I fell asleep. I must’ve exhausted myself because I didn’t wake up until almost four hours later.

  “Holy crap,” I mumbled as I rolled off the bed and crossed the room to grab my purse off the floor where I’d dropped it near the door. I quickly found my cell phone and unlocked the screen. Scrolling down in my text messages, I found the one I received when Harlowe and Link had visited me before everything had gone down with David Clark. It felt weird calling a guy I’d never talked to before without giving him a heads-up, so I decided to send Hack a message first.

  Me: Hey, this is Paisley. Can you talk? John Clark came to my house today.

  Almost exactly when I hit the send button, there was a loud knock on the door. It scared the daylights out of me, and I jumped back about a foot. Nobody knew I was here, and I wasn’t expecting room service or housekeeping. I’d booked the room through an online travel service using a prepaid card. But John Clark was a cop. What if he had managed to find me by using traffic cams or something?

  I thought about looking through the peephole to see if it was him, but I was afraid he’d be able to tell I was here if I did that. I backed up another step and glanced over my shoulder at the door leading into the bathroom. If I tiptoed in there and climbed into the tub, maybe he wouldn’t know I was here if he was able to get into the room. I only made it a few steps before the person outside the door pounded on it again, but this time they said something too. “Open up, Paisley.”

  It definitely wasn’t John Clark. His voice did nothing for me, but this person’s deep tone sent goose bumps down my spine in a really good way. But I still didn’t know them, and opening the door to a stranger when I was trying to hide from a decorated cop who had it out for me would be foolish. I continued toward the bathroom and pressed the button on my phone’s screen to pull up the phone number on the text I just sent so I could call Hack from the safety of the tub. As I walked through the door, I hit the button. The call was picked up before the first ring was done, and my head whipped around when I realized I was hearing the greeting in stereo because it was coming through the front door too. “Open the door, baby. It’s me.”

  “Okay.” I kept the phone against my ear as I crossed the room again to do what he asked, stunned by the fact that Hack was the person at the door. I had no idea why he was in town, but I felt a surge of relief at knowing I wouldn’t have to tackle this situation by myself. I flipped the deadbolt and twisted the knob, but only got the door open about an inch before Hack pushed it wider and wrapped his hands around my waist to nudge me inside. Once his tall, muscular body was through the gap, he kicked the door shut behind him.

  Standing face-to-face and staring up at Hack, I wished that I had reached out to him the first time I felt like someone was watching me. Then I would’ve been able to meet the hottest guy I’d ever seen months ago, instead of in the middle of this mess. His dark brown hair was longer on top and sticking up like he’d been running his fingers through it—making my digits itch to do the same. His square jaw was covered with several days’ worth of dark scruff, and so was the skin on top of his plump lips. The small gold ring in his right ear wasn’t hokey at all and only added to his sexiness. The black T-shirt covering his broad chest was stretched tight, showing off the ridges of his muscles. And the edge of a dark tattoo peeked out of his right sleeve with more of a tribal design showing on the left. If motorcycle clubs had websites, I would want to use Hack’s picture all over the site I’d build for the Silver Saints. It might not pull in a ton of prospects, but lots of women would want to drop by the MC.

  “What’d I do to put that frown on your gorgeous face?” he asked, swiping his thumb across the corner of my lower lip where it was turned down.

  I hadn’t even realized I was frowning until he pointed it out. Heat filled my cheeks because there was no way I was going to confess the jealousy I felt over the random tangent my brain had gone down. “It’s been a heck of a day.”

  “It kills me
to see you upset,” he rasped, stepping closer. “I’d do anything to see your pretty smile instead.”

  I wasn’t sure when he would’ve had the chance to see my smile since nothing good had happened during the time I’d spent with the Silver Saints MC six months ago. But Hack didn’t give me the chance to ask about it. Instead, he brushed his mouth against mine as he took the final step that eliminated the remaining space between our bodies. When my lips parted on a gasp, he took full advantage. His tongue swept inside to tangle with mine, and his hands cupped the back of my head to hold me in place.

  My body melted against his, and I whimpered into his mouth. Every inch of our bodies was plastered together. His unmistakable hard length pressed against my belly, a huge proof of how much he wanted me. Ripping his mouth from mine, he let out a guttural groan. I licked my lips, savoring his taste and making his dark eyes flare with need before they hardened. Dropping his hands onto my shoulders, he growled, “What did that motherfucker say to you when he came to your house that sent you running? And why the fuck didn’t you call me right away?”

  The sensual fog cleared as his questions registered in my brain. My back straightened at the accusatory tone of the latter, making me feel a little defensive. Jerking my thumb over my shoulder, I answered, “I was so upset, I cried my eyes out until I passed out. But I texted you as soon as I woke up.”

  “Shit.” His gaze scanned my face, taking in my puffy eyes.

  “Yeah, having a decorated cop—who’d already threatened me—show up on my doorstep to rant and rave over something I didn’t even do was terrifying.” I shook my head and sighed, shivering a little as I remembered my confrontation with John Clark.