Inking Eagle (Charon MC Trilogy Book 1) Page 7

  I turned on my heel and bolted for the bathroom, making it into a stall just in time to throw up the water I’d drunk. It was like liquid acid in my mouth as I continued to gag over the bowl. Would this day never fucking end?

  Chapter 7

  Silk

  Knowing I couldn’t hide in the airport bathroom forever, I pulled myself up and flushed the toilet before I unlocked the door and made my way to the sink. Grabbing a couple of paper towels on my way, I splashed some water on my face, the icy coolness a relief I felt all the way to my toes.

  “Miss? Are you okay?”

  I squealed and jumped about a foot in the air. Clutching my chest, I looked in the mirror at a middle-aged woman in a TSA uniform.

  “Yeah, I just, ah, just needed a moment.”

  She smiled gently and came closer, handing me a sealed bottle of water. “I helped Greg locate the bag. I know who you are, and fully understand your reaction. If you like, I can take you into one of the interview rooms where you can go through the bag in private?”

  I frowned at her. Why did she assume I’d want to look through it here? Wouldn’t any normal person take the thing home to do that?

  “I also know who the man waiting out there for you is. Don’t know why he’s with you, but I’m guessing it has something to do with that bag of your father’s. So, if you want a few minutes alone with it before he gets to paw through the thing, I can help with that.”

  I tentatively smiled. This woman was a complete stranger. Sure, she sounded like she was trying to help me, but I couldn’t be certain she wasn’t up to something. Regardless of what she might be pulling, I did want to go through that bag alone first and was grateful of her offer.

  “That would be nice. I’m sure I’ll end up crying, and no one needs to see that.”

  I followed her back to the counter and before following her through the door beside it, I turned to Antonio.

  “I’m not trying anything here, I just want a few minutes to myself with his things first, okay?”

  His gaze was hard, but he knew he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. And I knew if I did try anything, he’d rain hell down on me for it. It was all there in his eyes. With a sigh I followed the lady, whose name I didn’t even know, through the door into a white corridor then into a small room with a metal table bolted to the wall and a seat on either side of it. My father’s old bag sat innocently in the center of the table.

  “Fuck. I still can’t believe it.”

  “Normally when bags are unclaimed for any length of time, they go to the auction house. I’m not sure why the stuff from flight 175 didn’t get put through the normal channels. Guess things got crazy after the towers went down, and they got shoved aside.”

  “How did they get found now?”

  “Most of the unclaimed bags we have come in now, only stay on site for a few hours, then it gets sent to our off site office down the road. We’ve been slowly going through all the storage rooms here at LAX and sorting out all the old stuff that’s lying around. Last month, we found an old storage crate with five bags in it. When we saw the date, then the flight number we couldn’t believe it. Guess someone called the media about it and they wanted to run this big story about finding the owners of the bags. If you haven’t already heard from a reporter, I’m sure it won’t be long before you do.”

  I forced my stare away from the table and back to the TSA woman, delaying having to open that damn thing. “That’s how I found out it was here–from a reporter. Did they find next of kin for the other bags?”

  She shook her head sadly. “You’re the only one so far to turn up to claim anything. Maybe once the papers run their articles on the anniversary, others will come forward.”

  She moved over to the bag before she reached into her pocket. “I assume you don’t have a key for the lock?”

  I shook my head, I hadn’t even considered the fact the bag would be locked. She pulled out what looked like a pair of modified pliers and made quick work of snipping off the small padlock.

  She patted my shoulder. “We’ll worry about the paperwork after you’ve had a few minutes to go through it.”

  Then she strolled out and closed the door, leaving me alone with my father’s belongings. I paced the room, shaking out my hands as I glared over at that fucking bag. It’d caused so much shit already. The continuous ticking of the clock above the door had me eventually reaching for it. I wouldn’t have long before Antonio would find some way to get back here with me. Or have me dragged out.

  Taking a deep breath I pulled the case closer to me and frowned at the weight. What the hell was in it? Bricks? No wonder he hadn’t been allowed to take it as carry on. Tugging the broken lock off, I took hold of the zip and slid it over. My breath caught when the sides fell open to reveal a pair of jeans and t-shirt. With unsteady hands I lifted the clothes free, my father’s scent filling my lungs with my next breath before I placed them neatly on the table. What I discovered lying beneath had my chest tightening. Books. At least dozen of them. All bound with string, tied like a present.

  Lifting the first one out I glanced at the cover where my father’s messy scrawl had written in thick black text at the word “Charons”. Without opening it, I grabbed the next one “Iron Hammers”.

  “Oh, Dad, what did you do?”

  I kept going until I found one with “L.A. Mob” on it. Before I opened it, I shoved the others back in the bag, and covered them with the clothes once more. Then I sat and tugged on the string. The little bow came undone and the string dropped to my lap. I opened the first page to find an envelope taped to it. When I ran my finger over the paper, I could feel a key was inside. Curious, I lifted the lower part of the envelope up and found the name of a bank and a number had been hand written there. I assumed it was the details for the safe deposit box Antonio had mentioned. Knowing I didn’t have much time before someone would come barging in, I quickly flicked through the pages. Numbers, dates, amounts. And notes. Of course, my dad was too lazy to come up with some kind of code. Nope, the crazy fool just wrote shit out in plain English. Deaths, drug deals, stolen money–the details were all there staring me in the face. A shudder worked through me, landing in my churning stomach. Closing my eyes, I took a couple of deep breaths. I knew my stomach was empty and there was nothing left to throw up, so I focused on pushing the feeling down, continuing with my deep breathing until the nausea passed.

  What do I do now?

  If Antonio found out I’d seen this shit, he’ll kill me for sure, regardless of what he said earlier. Suddenly overcome with a sense of urgency, I grabbed for the string and retied the book so it looked like it had when I’d found it. Then I stood and re-zipped the bag, I didn’t want Antonio to even see the other notebooks, let alone get his hands on them. That would be dangerous to everyone that anything to do with any of the organizations those books related to.

  Including myself, because one of those books was about the Charons, no doubt listing all their dirty deeds. That made me pause. The club. Of course! Mac was here, that meant there would be others here too. A plan was forming in my mind, when the door opened and the TSA lady came in, paperwork in hand.

  “You ready to head off?”

  “Not just yet. Can I ask a favor?”

  She tilted her head. “You can ask, but I can’t promise I’ll do it.”

  I held in the urge to roll my eyes at her. I mean really, what did she think I was going to ask her to do? Shoot Antonio? “It’s nothing illegal or anything, I promise. I just need a new lock for this bag, and for you to hold it for a few minutes for someone.”

  She frowned at me. “Is that wise? The mob may not have the power they once did here in L.A., but they’re still powerful enough you don’t want to defy them. Not if you want to live, at any rate.”

  “All he wants is this one thing. The rest are my father’s personal belongings that Antonio has no need for. He’ll probably make me throw them out before we leave the airport.”

  It w
asn’t a complete lie, I’m sure after he rummaged through, found and grabbed the books, he would, indeed, toss the rest in the nearest trash can. I let tears well in my eyes as I gave her a pleading look. She sighed and looked up to the ceiling for a moment. “Fine. Who am I releasing it to?”

  “If I can make a phone call, they’ll come to you as soon as I’ve left the airport. You won’t need to hold it long.”

  I waited while she thought over my request. “Fine. Make your call while I go find a lock for you. You also need to sign these forms.”

  She placed the papers and a pen on the table, before she pulled her phone out with another sigh. Unlocking the screen, she held it out to me. I took her offering with a smile. “Thank you.”

  I didn’t waste a moment to dial, and held the phone to my ear to wait, hoping he’ll answer a call from an unknown number.

  “Who is this?”

  “Hey, Uncle Clint. It’s me.”

  The TSA lady’s face softened a little when she heard me say uncle, and she left the room.

  “Fuck, sweetheart. Are you hurt? Did you get away? We’re here in L.A., tell me where you are and I’ll come get you.”

  “I’m fine. And I’m not really free of him. Not yet. I have to finish this, then I’ll leave. Listen, I know you have men here at the airport and once I leave with Antonio, I need you to send one of them to come get Dad’s bag. I’ve got what Antonio is looking for, but I don’t want him to have Dad’s things.”

  He growled over the phone. “I don’t like this. We were going to snatch you as you leave the airport.”

  Panic flared inside me.

  “You can’t! You’ll never get away with it here. There’s too many people, Antonio has too many guards. And if you did manage it, he’d come after me again. I need to finish this, so he’s done with me. Listen, he hasn’t hurt me, and has promised all he wants is my help to retrieve something Dad took from him. We’ll head downtown, to the East West Bank, I’ll unlock the box and then walk away.”

  “Okay.” He groaned. “Okay. We’ll play it your way for now. Stay safe, sweetheart. And we’ll see you at the bank.”

  “Love you too, Uncle Clint.”

  The TSA lady came in as I spoke that last bit and she gave me a sad smile when I hung up the phone.

  “Here’s a combination lock, you know how to set it?”

  I slipped a few dollars into her hand along with her phone. It wasn’t much, but was all the cash I had on me. I didn’t want her to be out of pocket for helping me. I took the small black lock with three gold dials from her. “Yeah, I got it. Thanks.”

  It didn’t take long to get it set and locked on the bag. I then quickly signed the release forms saying I’d taken the bag.

  “My uncle or one of his friends will come this soon to grab the bag. Thank you so much for all your help.”

  Picking up Antonio’s book, I followed her out of the room and headed back toward where I knew Antonio was, no doubt impatiently, waiting for me. Once she entered a code, the door let out a soft beep and I walked out alone. Antonio and his goons were standing where I’d left them, all staring at the door, as though they’d been waiting for me since I’d left.

  “Sorry I took so long. It was harder than I thought it would be to go through his things.” I walked straight up to Antonio and hold out the book. “Found this with your name on it, figured it was what you were after. The rest of the bag was just clothes and toiletries. Personal stuff I’ll come back to get later.”

  He gripped my wrist as he took the book from my hand, his grip tight enough to have a jolt of pain shoot up my arm. “Did you look inside this?”

  I gasped. “You think I’m that stupid? The last thing I’ll do is give you a reason to hurt me. Your name scrawled on the cover was enough to tell me it was what you wanted.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me a moment, and he tightened his grip. My knees buckled a little, but I caught myself as he suddenly released me.

  “If I discover you have hidden something from me by not bringing the bag, I will recount my promise.”

  Rubbing my wrist I stepped away from him, staying silent as I worried my actress skills weren’t as good as I’d hoped. Then he nodded once and turned to head out of the airport, his goons making sure I followed him.

  Eagle

  I couldn’t fucking wait to patch in and be a full member of the club. Being a prospect could suck at times. Like now. Mac and Taz were inside the airport strolling around, without their cuts on, pretending to be everyday travelers. Nitro, Scout and Bulldog were huddled together discussing whatever Bulldog’s phone call had been about. Me? I was stuck here guarding the damn bikes. I was a fucking Marine, and my girl was in trouble but I couldn’t be sent in because whoever took Silk knew what I looked like. I hadn’t seen her since she was snatched and it had me on edge. I was also pissed off that I was being left out of the loop on whatever was currently being planned.

  When they finished their chat, Nitro pulled his phone out while Scout and Bulldog headed straight for me. About damn time. I stood taller and focused on loosening my tense muscles. Looking like I was going to tackle someone probably wasn’t going to get me far with the Club President and VP.

  “New plan. Silk’s going to a bank with Sabella and we’re going to grab her from there.”

  I pulled my sunglasses off to glare at Scout. “What the fuck? We’re doing what now? I thought we were grabbing her here.”

  And ending this shit. I wanted Silk where I could see her. Close to me where I could keep her safe, not in the back of some fucking limo with a mob boss and his goons!

  “It’s too risky, too many people. Silk’s asked us to wait until after she goes to the bank. There’s a deposit box he needs her to open for him, then she’s free. At least, that’s what he’s told her. She wants to get him his shit so he has no reason to come after her ever again. Although, I highly doubt he really intends on simply letting her walk away after he gets whatever is in that fucking box. Assuming what he wants is even in the damn thing. So, we’re going to be waiting at the bank to make sure she leaves with us, not him.”

  Nitro came over to join us, and as Sergeant in Arms, he took over explaining the new plan. The big bastard had been a Navy SEAL for years before he retired and joined the club. I had no problem following the man’s lead.

  “Right. Mac is collecting the bag Silk left for us. Taz is going to stay with him, watch his back. Us four are heading over the East West Bank. I want you,” he pointed to my chest, “waiting out the front with the bikes, ready to roll. Bulldog, I want you inside, near the entrance. Scout and I will be further inside the bank to delay anyone we need to. The second Taz and Mac arrive, I want Taz to stay with the bikes while Mac and Eagle come inside. Bulldog will tell you which way to go. Keep your cuts packed away, we don’t need to be advertising we’re in town. And no fucking guns. I know you boys are used to just shooting shit that’s in your way, but we need to keep this quiet.”

  We’d stopped and removed our cuts outside of L.A. None of us wanted to get in a fight with a local MC for not getting permission to enter their stomping grounds. We also didn’t want anyone connected with Sabella to recognize the club insignia and report back to their boss that the club was in town. As far as anyone who saw us was concerned, we were just a group of guys on bikes. No MC affiliation at all.

  “Hand-to-hand is fine with me. I’ll enjoy pounding out some of my frustration on a few of these bastards. What’s the plan once we have Silk?”

  “If we get her before Mac and Taz arrive, we’ll send her out to Eagle and you’ll ride with her out of town. Once you’re out a ways, contact your boys and meet up, then head home together. But hopefully Mac and Taz will be there by the time we get her. In which case, I still want her on the back of your bike as soon as you can swing it. Take Mac and Taz with you and ride home. We’re going to hang back for a while, make sure you’re not followed.”

  I fought the smirk that was trying to spread over my face. I�
�d put money on the ‘what’ they were staying in L.A. for, and it wasn’t to make sure we weren’t followed. It was to deliver a message. No one messed with those protected by the Charon MC and got away with it. No one. It stung that I couldn’t be a part of that particular beatdown, but with these three busy taking care of that, it meant I had at least a couple of days on the road with Silk with no overbearing relatives stopping us from taking things further. Taz and Mac knew full well how I felt about Silk, and I knew without a doubt that neither would stop us, or report back on anything that happened.

  We all went silent as Sabella and his crew walked out of the airport. I could barely see Silk in the middle of all the suits. Efficiently, they all got in the limo and it drove off toward the inner city.

  “Right. Let’s move out.”

  With a nod, I followed Nitro’s order, knowing Mac and Taz would only be minutes behind us. No way would they waste time getting to that bank when they knew what was at stake.

  I couldn’t wait for all this shit to be over, and I had Silk safely on the back of my bike, where she belonged.

  Chapter 8

  Silk

  Once the door of the limo was closed, Antonio tore at the string holding the book closed. I shrunk back into my seat, and did my best to keep my gaze focused on his face, rather than his hands. I knew that if he knew I’d so much as peeked at the contents of that bloody book, I’d find myself in a whole heap of, no doubt painful, trouble.

  When he opened the cover and saw the envelope, a frown creased his brow a moment as he examined it, then lifted his eyes to run over me briefly before he focused on the driver.

  “Head downtown, to the East West Bank.”

  I relaxed a little when he tilted the book toward himself, so I couldn’t see the pages, even if I was looking. He flipped through them quickly, muttering in Italian what I guessed were curses.

  “You are certain you didn’t look in this book?”