Haven: Renegade Saints MC (21 page)

 

The old man licked his lips. “I don’t know,” he said. He shrugged. “Mistakes happen, maybe it was a different hospital. You know papers get those details incorrect all the time,” he added.

 

“I don’t think that’s it,” I said softly. “I don’t think the paper fucked up at all. I think you were bribed.”

 

“I wasn’t,” the old man argued. “I wasn’t bribed. That young lady was the victim of a stabbing.”

“Ha!” I crowed. “She wasn’t. She was in a fucking car accident, asshole. That’s how she died. Or rather, that’s how she faked her death. I know she’s still alive. I know she is. Now tell me the fucking truth,” I added in a dark tone as I pulled a gun out of my pocket and cocked the trigger, pointing it at Dr. Young’s head. “Tell me or I’ll fucking kill you right now.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Dr. Young said in a shaky voice. He eased himself back down into his desk chair and looked up at me. “Alright. That young woman, you’re right, she didn’t die. At least not then. There was a woman who paid me…a lot of money, you see, to forge this.”

 

I blinked. “You’re sure it was a woman?”

 

Dr. Young nodded. “Positive,” he said in a shaky voice. “She was alone.”

“That’s not possible,” I scoffed. “I think you’re lying!” I shoved the barrel of the gun against Dr. Young’s temple. “I think you’re full of shit, old man.”

 

“I’m not lying,” Dr. Young said. He was sweating and shaking in his chair. “I swear it! She was alone.”

 

I let the gun drop. My phone was buzzing in my pocket. “Excuse me for a moment,” I said nastily as I reached for it and answered.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hello, is this Max?” Talia’s voice sounded just like it always had—clear and scratchy, but full of bells all the same.

 

I almost dropped the phone. There were so many things I wanted to ask her, so many things I wanted to say.

 

“Hello, Max, we have Victoria,” Talia said before I could say anything else. “She’s at the Grand Best Hotel. Room 714.”

And then she hung up before I could reply.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty-Three

Victoria

 

Three Hours Earlier

 

I didn’t leave my room for almost the whole night. Max and Danny stayed in the living room, drinking and carousing for hours. When I heard the front door slam, I had to assume that Max had left again and that he wouldn’t be coming back for quite some time. But I was still too nervous to leave my room. What if Danny wouldn’t let me back inside? What if I wouldn’t be able to shake him again?

 

I shuddered. I didn’t know exactly who wanted me at that hotel downtown, but I knew that I had to go. Max be damned, if someone knew something about my father’s death, I wanted to know.

 

I hadn’t been to downtown Marquette in a long time, not since the day that Max and I were married in the courthouse. Even though it was less than two weeks ago, part of me couldn’t believe that it had happened at all—it was like a little slice from someone else’s life.
That morning, I dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt with a leather jacket that I’d borrowed from Max. I didn’t know who I was meeting with, or how they’d treat me, but I wanted to look tough. I put on some makeup and actually did my hair. When I was done, the girl staring back at me from the mirror didn’t even look like the Tori I knew.

 

Sneaking out again wasn’t hard. I even did it the same way. Part of me was afraid that Max would have installed a lock on the window, but he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. This time, I called for a cab before I dropped to the ground. I didn’t know how fast Danny could run but I didn’t want to find out, and I had a feeling he was watching the windows more vigilantly than ever before.

 

It was the same cabbie I’d had the day before. I shuddered—a feeling stronger than déjà vu came over me.

 

“Where to, miss? Baker Park again?”

 

I shook my head. “No, thank you,” I said softly. “The Grand Best Hotel, it’s downtown on Royal street.”

 

The cabbie nodded and whistled. “Nice place,” he said with a smirk. “You meetin’ a date?”

 

I felt a shiver of revulsion come over me and I held up my left hand. “Sorry,” I murmured. “I’m married.”

The cabbie frowned at me in the rearview mirror. “What kind of married lady leaps out the window to go to a hotel?”

“You don’t know anything about me,” I said smoothly. “You have no right to ask those questions.”

The cabbie took the hint and shut up. I was glad; I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about my father since I’d gotten the phone call the night before. I wondered who had called me; the voice sounded like it should have been familiar, but I hadn’t recognized it at all. It was both deep, amused, scratchy, and a bit melodic, like some famous singer from the ’90s.

 

“I wonder what she knows about my father,” I wondered aloud as the cabbie pulled up in front of the hotel. Glancing around nervously, I saw that he’d been right: it
was
a nice place. Columns and palm trees filled the carport, and a bellboy in a red jacket came forward and opened the back door.

 

I glanced down at my outfit, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I’d felt great when I’d left the house, but suddenly I was feeling way underdressed. I felt like I was really standing out as I walked calmly into the lobby.

 

“Ma’am, can I help you?” Another bellboy grinned at me and I blushed. There was something about being called ma’am that never sat well with me, even though I knew it was always meant in respect.

 

“Not really,” I said with a nervous smile. “I’m meeting a friend of mine in one of the rooms.”

 

“Right,” the bellboy said. He glanced around and I wondered if I was posing some kind of security risk. A horrible thought struck me: what if this woman didn’t know anything about my father? What if Silas had somehow recruited her and paid her to get me to the hotel? What was he going to do to me?

 

“Actually,” I said softly. “There is one thing you can do. Would you mind escorting me up to the room?”

 

The bellboy looked relieved; I wondered if he had been about to call for security when I’d suggested that he accompany me. He led me through a twisting maze of lobby, through marble statues and giant fountains until we stood in front of a bank of elevators, all done in red and gold. It was the swankiest-looking place I’d ever been in my life. For a moment, I thought about surprising Max with a night there, until I remembered that I was currently angry with him.

 

“Which room is it?”

 

I was relieved he hadn’t called me ma’am again. “It’s room 714,” I said softly. “Would you mind taking me upstairs?”

 

The bellboy shifted a lever to one side and the elevator jumped up, making me cry out with surprise. It was an old elevator with a metal grate to the front and I felt my stomach doing nervous twists and flops as we rose higher and higher.

 

“The ceilings here are so high that each floor really feels like two,” the bellboy explained. “Some people say it’s part of the charm of the hotel.”

 

I nodded nervously. “We seem so high up in the air,” I said softly.

 

The bellboy nodded. “The Grand Best is known for that,” he said mechanically, as if he were reading from a guidebook.

 

The elevator screeched to a stop and I saw that we’d arrived on the seventh floor. I followed the bellboy out into the hallway and down a winding, narrow corridor. Eventually, we stood in front of room 714.

“Here we are,” said the bellboy in a nasally voice. “Want me to knock?”

I nodded. He knocked on the door and it was opened by a very gorgeous woman with dark hair. She was shorter than me with bright eyes and sparkling skin. She looked radiant, like she’d just won the lottery or discovered something amazing.

 

“Hello, Victoria,” she said. I recognized the voice from the phone.

 

The bellboy glanced at me. “Is this your friend?”

 

“Of course I am,” the woman answered. She reached forward and grabbed my arm with surprising strength. When her fingers wrapped around my wrist, I had a flash of panic. Then I scanned the room: no Silas. I let out a sigh of relief.

 

“Thanks,” I said to the bellboy. “I’m good now.”

 

He left and the woman closed the door with a soft click. “So, you don’t recognize me?”

 

“I don’t,” I said. The woman smiled at me and I felt another shock of fright. “Should I?”

The woman licked her sensual, full lips. “You should,” she said softly. “Unless Max doesn’t talk about me anymore.”

 

Oh my god. It’s Talia. Max’s dead ex-fiancée.

 

“I think there’s been a mistake,” I said, backing towards the door. Blood was pounding in my veins and I felt more frightened than ever before. I desperately wanted to leave, but Talia sensed that and she moved quickly towards the door, barring my exit.

 

“There hasn’t been a mistake,” Talia said softly. She glanced at me in a way that sent shivers of fear down my spine. “And you won’t be leaving.”

 

“You know, I didn’t tell Max where I was going,” I said in a rush. “And I think I ought to leave, you know, just to tell him where I am.”

 

Talia shook her gorgeous head. She was incredibly beautiful, like a model come to life off the pages. I felt ugly, small, like something rejected onto the floor. Still, Talia’s beauty was frightening, almost supernatural. I shuddered as she stepped in front of me once again.

 

“You’re not leaving,” Talia said softly. She looked me up and down and twisted her full lips into a cruel smile. “Max has an interesting sense of humor,” she said softly, glancing at my chest. I felt a hot, irate blush break out over my cheeks. “I didn’t even think he’d be with someone like you.”

 

Before I could ask her what that even meant, a strange man came out of the bathroom. He was incredibly muscular, even bigger than Max, with biceps bigger than his head. He was bald and grinning nastily at me as he stepped towards me with alarming speed. I couldn’t even move before he’d grabbed my wrists and tied them behind my back, yanking me painfully away from the door.

 

“Hey,” I cried out. “That hurts!”

“Good,” Talia said with a menacing smile. “I hope it hurts. I hope it hurts a lot, you bitch.”

 

“What the hell?” I asked, staring straight at her. The big man shoved me back on the bed and grabbed my ankles. From his pocket he produced a length of plastic ties and began trussing me up like a hog. “Why are you doing this?”

 

Talia smiled again. She walked closer and stroked a long, black-painted nail down the side of my face. “For revenge,” she said softly.

 

I frowned. “What the hell, Talia? I didn’t do anything to you! Max didn’t even marry me because he loved me, Max married me because—”

 

“I don’t care about what Max did,” Talia said in an even tone. She raked a hand through her long hair and flashed me a gleaming, evil smile. “I don’t care what he did, or who he did it with. That’s not why you’re here.”

 

“I don’t understand,” I said softly, wincing as the man tied my hands behind my back and shoved me hard on the bed. “I don’t understand what I have to do with this.”

 

Talia cocked her beautiful head to one side. “It’s not really a question of
you
,” she said slowly. “More like a question of your father.” She pouted at me. “You know, I had to get revenge.”

 

“Revenge for what?” I squinted at her. Already, I could feel the plastic cutting off my circulation and my hands going painfully numb. “Revenge for what, Talia?”

 

Talia laughed again. The sound was beginning to grate on my nerves. For the first time, I realized that she was crazy, like actually crazy. Not the kind of crazy that Max said I was, but really, legitimately crazy.

 

“Revenge for everything your father did to my family,” she said softly. “Revenge for everything Kristoff did, everything the Renegade Saints did…” Her voice trailed off and she met my gaze. Her eyes were like dark liquid pools, and I felt hypnotized. “Revenge for that,” she added. “You understand now?”

 

I shook my head. “No,” I said. In truth, I was feeling more confused than ever before. “What are you talking about?”

 

Talia shrugged. “Your father, used my mother as a pawn and left her for dead,” she said softly. “I used Max to get close to the group. I never loved him. That’s why I don’t care that he married some piece of trash.”

 

A horrible feeling was sinking over me, going into my bones, making me feel like I was melting in a pool of agony.

“Talia,” I said nervously. “Did you kill my father?”

Talia just smiled.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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