Read Train's Clash (The Last Riders Book 9) Online
Authors: Jamie Begley
She lifted her lashes. “You can’t hate me any more than I hate myself. I can’t justify to myself why I let that happen. I had no friends or family by then—my aunt and uncle had died from cancer. I was so afraid Timothy would turn his back on me and Rae that I tolerated things I never would have done now that I’m older.
“Other than when he smacked her hand, he never touched her in anger … or affection. Rae adored him. She would stare out the window when I told her he was coming and wait until he got here. As she grew older, his visits came fewer and fewer.
“One day, when Rae was in school, Hammer and Jonas came with Timothy. He told me he wouldn’t be coming back anymore, and Hammer and Jonas would help us move into a small apartment. I broke down. I didn’t want to leave my home.
“The next day, Hammer and Jonas told me that Timothy had changed his mind, and we could stay. After that, we saw Timothy even less—maybe twice a year—while Hammer or Jonas were here every other weekend.”
She flicked through page after page filled with pictures of Rae as a young girl. “She was an outstanding student. She would show Timothy her grades when he came, doing everything she could to make him proud. It was never enough. When she was little, she even told Timothy she wanted to go into the military like him when she grew up. He talked her out of it, saying she didn’t have what it took to be a soldier.
“She was in sixth grade when the school band was asked to the inauguration. She kept saying the new president wouldn’t care if Timothy was married. She kept believing that we would be a family. I tried to tell her it wasn’t going to happen, but she just kept telling me, ‘You just have to believe, Mama. I do.’
“When she came home from that band trip, the little girl who had left came back a young woman I didn’t know.” Suddenly, sobs tore from her lips. She pressed a hand to her mouth from crying aloud again. Train put an arm around her shoulder as Peyton gathered herself to continue. “She never told me what happened. Jonas did—they were there also. He said the students had filed in line to shake the president’s hand, and Timothy was standing where they had to pass him. When Rae tried to take his arm and talk to him, he moved away as if he had never seen her before.”
“The bastard is lucky he’s dead.” Train’s harsh voice had Peyton crying harder.
“You want to know the sickest part? I didn’t tell him to go take a flying leap the next time he came. We just pretended it didn’t happen. Except, Killyama would find a friend or go to Hammer’s to stay the night or whole day when he came, and she wouldn’t come back until he left.
“The day he was killed by his wife, she laughed. She laughed so long and hard that Hammer had to take her to emergency room. They said it was hysteria. They had to give her a sedative to calm her down.”
“I remembered when he was killed,” Train said. “It made all the papers. He was coming home from a mission, and his wife was sitting on the steps when he came through the door. She shot him six times.”
“Yes.” Peyton nodded. “Killyama … By then she was grown, and they hadn’t talked in years. I didn’t handle it well. Even though I didn’t spend much time with him, I missed him so badly that I’m ashamed to admit I turned to drugs. By the time Killyama found out, I was an addict and kept using them every chance I had. I refused to stop, sneaking out to get some during the middle of the night. She even took my car away so she would have to take me everywhere. When she was gone, I would walk to somewhere the dealers would meet me.
“One night I slipped out then came back to bed to pass out, Hammer, Jonas, and Killyama carried me out of my home and checked me into a rehab center. When I tried to leave, she told me it was the drugs or her. She told me that I had chosen Timothy over her and asked if I was going to choose drugs over her, too. I’ve been clean ever since.”
“Can I ask you a question?” Train handed her a tissue from the desk.
She shakily wiped her tears away. “There isn’t much I haven’t told you.”
“Why does she mail presents so I don’t know who they’re coming from? Why won’t she just give them to me herself?”
Peyton’s tear-filled eyes met his. “When she was a little girl and Timothy came by, she would draw him pictures he would never take with him. As she grew older, she would save her money to buy him things. The last time I remember her giving a present, she had bought him a watch. He left it sitting on the table in the kitchen when he left. Usually, I would hide the gifts so she wouldn’t get her feelings hurt, but I didn’t see it sitting there when we went outside to say good-bye. He was getting in the car when she saw he wasn’t wearing it, so she said she would go get it for him. He left as she was coming out the door.”
Peyton flipped the scrapbook closed before carrying it back to the closet. Then she opened the second closet. Taking out a small box, she then lovingly packed Killyama’s statue with bubble wrap before putting it inside. Placing the lid on, she handed it to him.
“Remember, you gave me you word not to tell anyone.”
“Her father is dead; why would it make a difference if anyone found out now? She made sure no one can discover who he is.”
“Rae doesn’t want his other children to be hurt because of Timothy’s past.”
Train shook his head in disgust. “That’s why he didn’t want her to go into the military. He was afraid she would run into her brother and sister.”
“Yes.” Peyton paused, then told Train, “If Rae took the key, she had a good reason. I don’t know what it was, but if she knew it would cost her you, she would never have done it unless it was important. I’m not saying she isn’t sneaky—the Lord knows that’s why I gave her that silly nickname. What I am saying is that the woman on that sculpture wouldn’t want you hurt.”
“I agree. That’s the one thing I do know now, thanks to you. I can wait until she’s ready to tell me.” He gave her a small smile in gratitude. “Can I give you a ride back to your trailer?”
Peyton shook her head. “No. I think I’m going to work for a while. I’m used to walking back and forth between the two.”
“If you’re sure.” He looked around the place before saying, “You should get some security. No one is close—”
“Jonas did. I turned the alarm off when we came in.”
“You put a lot of trust in a man you’re just getting to know.”
“Not really.” She shrugged. “Killyama would have never introduced you to me if she didn’t trust you. My daughter is a good judge of character. Much better than her mother.”
“I think you did just fine. You raised a woman you can be proud off. A woman I hope to marry.”
“Good luck with that.” She smiled warmly.
Train started laughing. “I’m going to need a lot of luck. Fortunately, luck is on my side.”
T
he grim-faced
men entered the vacant building one at a time. It had been vacant for years before T.A.’s new boyfriend rented it for her. She had told him that she wanted it for her bookkeeping business. The numbnut must have taken too many tackles to have believed that story, but it had worked.
“Tracker is here. We’re ready,” Jonas told Killyama. “Hammer will finish loading up the equipment after you make the call.”
“I will. I want to talk to you first.” Killyama’s hands had been clenched so tightly she had left marks on her palms. She had been standing apart from the men as they checked their guns. “We’re wasting time, I know. I just … I need you to promise me something first. When we get there, I know one of you will want to be with me. Not tonight. Tonight, Train comes first.”
“No way in hell! I’m sticking with you,” Jonas argued heatedly as Hammer came over.
“I’m going to do what needs to be done, and then get the hell out of there. We’ve planned this for two weeks now. I know what I’m supposed to do. If Train gets hurt, though … If I know you both are with him, I know he’ll come out alive.”
Hammer’s jaw clenched. “In and out, just like we planned.”
“Yes.” Killyama gave one curt nod. “Jonas?”
He nodded reluctantly. “Fine,” he growled. “But I’m checking your equipment myself.”
“Good.” She briefly squeezed their arms before she took the cell phone from Hammer. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
* * *
“
Y
ou want
to play a game of pool?” Rider asked Train as he passed through the club room after dinner.
“No thanks. I’m just going to go to my room and watch the news.” Train started to pass Rider, but then felt one of the women jump on his back.
“That’s all you ever do anymore. Come on; stay down here for a while.” A pair of breasts rubbed against his back. “I want to play spin the bottle. Moon and Crash said they’ll play.”
“You don’t need me, Stori. Some other time.”
Like when Killyama is here
, Train thought to himself.
He was helping Stori off his back when he felt his cell phone vibrating. Looking down, he felt the sting of disappointment that it wasn’t Killyama. Every day of the last two weeks he had hoped she would call to return the numerous messages he had left her.
“Hey, Stud, what’s up?”
“What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“I just finished your bike. I wanted to see if you wanted to take it out and break it in.” Stud’s enthusiastic voice sounded like he expected Train to be just as excited.
“I’ll come pick it up tomorrow. It’s been a long day.” The enjoyment of looking forward to the bike was gone.
“Come on; give a brother a break. I’ve been cooped up with four kids, and a wife who is mad at me because I forgot to start dinner. I rode it to the clubhouse. The brothers are sick with envy.”
“Is Killyama going to be there?” Train asked. The tracker he had placed on her phone showed she was home.
“No. I think she’s at home tonight.”
“All right. Give me thirty minutes.” Maybe he could use his new bike as an excuse for stopping by her apartment to show it to her, something to break the ice. He had already promised himself another week of waiting, then he had planned to take matters into his own hands.
“Ask Shade if he wants to come with you. He’s been wanting me to make one for him, too. I’ve already sketched it out for him.”
“If you rode my new bike to the Destructors’ clubhouse, how are you going to get home?”
“I keep a spare bike behind the club. Don’t forget your trailer, or you could let Shade ride bitch,” Stud joked.
“I’m not even going to tell him you said that. The brother has no sense of humor. Give me an extra five to hook up the trailer, and we’ll be on our way.”
Train disconnected Stud’s call then dialed Shade’s number. He went to the hall closet, pulling out his jacket as members began moving the furniture so they could play their game.
“Stud just called,” he said when Shade answered. “My bike is ready for pick up. He wants us to come over to Jamestown to break it in. You in?”
“No, I’m giving John his bath.”
“That’s fine. I’ll tell Stud. He said he has the sketch of the bike you decided to buy—”
“Wait.” Train could hear Shade turning off the water. “Stud said I wanted to buy one of his bikes?”
“Yes. Did he get it wrong?”
“No. It’s just been a while since I asked him. When are you leaving?”
“I’m getting ready to hook the trailer up now. Five minutes give you enough time?”
“Give me ten. I need to get John dried off and dressed for bed.”
“Sounds good.” Train hung up, seeing that Moon had spun the bottle and it had landed on Sasha.
“You sure you don’t want to play?” Sasha had already lost her top and bra. “Moon dared me to give him a blowjob.”
“How’s that a dare?”
“He dared me to do it hanging off the bar.”
Moon was already helping her onto the bar.
Shaking his head at their antics, he told them, “I’ll see you guys later. I’m going to ride my new bike.”
The men didn’t pay any attention to his leaving, too intent on Sasha.
Stori had Crash lift her up onto the bar, too, so she could see if she could do it.
Either he was going to have to get Killyama back soon, or he was going to have to stop watching the brothers play until he could.
He had finished hooking the trailer up when Shade appeared out of the darkness.
“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!” Train grasped his chest. “Where the hell did you come from? I didn’t see you come out of the club or down the pathway.”
“I needed to get my bag out of the factory.” Shade tossed his special ops bag in the back seat of the truck. “Help me get my bike on the trailer. I’ll ride in the truck with you.” From the warning glint in Shade’s eyes, Train didn’t ask any questions, just helped him roll his bike onto the trailer.
When they were inside and driving out of the parking lot, Train was about to ask Shade what he needed his bag for, when Shade stopped him, shaking his head.
Train gripped the steering wheel tighter, becoming worried about what they were heading into.
Shade turned up the radio and took a pen out of the glovebox. Train couldn’t see what he was writing in the dark, and Shade didn’t attempt to give him the note until they had stopped at a red light in town.
Train took the note from him, reading it.
I didn’t ask Stud about buying a bike.
He crumpled it in his hand, giving it back to Shade.
When the light turned red, he floored the gas pedal, the note sending a sense of urgency through his bloodstream. He didn’t know why Shade didn’t want to talk, but he never questioned what he was thinking. It was obvious Stud was sending a private warning, needing Shade to come.
Stud didn’t know that Shade was in the same special forces unit as Train, but Hammer and Jonas did. Anytime there was a mission, silence was mandatory. They each had a special phone they carried all the time. Neither him or Shade had heard from their unit commander, which was Hammer until the next round of recruitment when he was done for good. It could only mean one thing: a special mission that Hammer had instigated himself. That was the only thing that made sense.
He turned into the Destructors’ parking lot, maneuvering the truck and trailer past the rows of bikes. At the back of the club, he saw Stud waiting on his bike.
As soon as Shade and Train got out, Stud tossed Train the keys to his new bike.
“Let’s get Shade’s bike off the trailer. Hammer is waiting.”
With three of them helping unload Shade’s bike, it only took minutes. Then Shade pulled out his black duffle bag, sliding the strap through his arms.
When Shade would have gotten on his bike, Stud stopped him.
“Take mine. I’m going to ride yours.”
Shade wasn’t happy, but he switched bikes without arguing.
As they got to the end of the parking lot, Stud motioned for them to stop.
“Give me your phones. All of them.” Stud held his hand out.
Shade and Train looked at each other. They were putting their lives in Stud’s hands, willing to follow where he led them, yet now he wanted them to give him their only way of communicating to The Last Riders?
“Hurry! We’ve got to go, or they’ll leave without you,” Stud warned.
Train had gotten to know Stud since he had started seeing Killyama, and he had started to respect the man almost as much as Viper. Therefore, both of them handed Stud their four phones, watching as he put them in his jacket pockets.
“When we get there, I’ll point out the building, but I’m not stopping. The door will be open. May God be with you, brothers.” Stud revved his engine, peeling out.
Train and Shade followed him closely, wondering what the hell they were going into.
They were a couple of miles from the club when Stud pointed toward a large building as he kept going, while Train and Shade slowed down, turning into the parking lot.
Train’s adrenaline started pumping when he recognized a few of the cars. Hammer’s, Tracker’s, and O’Neil’s, all members of their elite team, showed it was a high-level mission.
Shade met his eyes before he went through the door. Then Train really knew how bad it was when he saw the number of men getting into their gear.
“Train and Shade are here.” Hammer’s yell had all the men stopping.
“Did someone die and we don’t know?” Train muttered to Shade, feeling a chill travel the length of his spine at the look the men were giving them.
Shade shrugged off his duffel bag. “I have a bad feeling about this one. I have since you told me what Stud said.”
They went to a large table where plans were laid out.
“I’ve scheduled ten minutes to explain what’s going on. You being late has taken three of them, so let’s get started. Gather around!” Hammer shouted out.
Train watched as the men left what they had been doing to gather around them. When a woman stood up that he hadn’t seen sitting at the back of the building, his control slipped, his anger coming out.
“Why in the fuck is Killyama here?”
Train had to put up with her chasing felons across two states, he damn sure wasn’t going to put up with her going on a mission when they were loaded up with enough artillery to take out a small country.
* * *
K
illyama felt
Train’s dark eyes drilling holes into her as she walked over to the command table. She loved him, so she would bear his hatred for her until this mission was over. Then she would get out of his life. Because … what he was about to hear was going to hurt him enough.
She could tell that both Shade and Train expected her to give him a jab at what he had said. Instead, she went to stand quietly next to Hammer.
“Killyama is here because she is part of this team. She’s been given a job to do, just like I’m going to give you, yours. Jonas, cue up the video.” He met both Shade’s and Train’s eyes. “The other members have already seen this video. Shade, Train, I’m sorry, but this is going to be hard for you to watch. I expect you to get your shit together once we leave this building. We have a job to get done, regardless of how it personally involves us. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Train and Shade responded in unison.
“Good.” He nodded once then continued, “Months ago, Killyama, Jonas, and I arrested a felon. It was a simple take down. Jonas and I kept the computer with every intention of turning it over to the police, but we long ago figured out some of the best ways of catching other felons is to find what they have on their computer. Is it legal? No, but we did it, anyway. We’ve never done it this way before, but when Jack Carter said he had friends who would come looking for us, we were concerned about Killyama’s safety.
“I know some of you have already said that it jeopardized getting the jumper convicted legally for the crime shown on this tape, but personally, Jonas and I don’t give a fuck. And if anyone else who watches this tape still feels that way, you’re more than welcome to leave.”
None of the men moved.