Page 59 of Knocked Up By the Bikers

At the same time, Sky may be more levelheaded, but sometimes he has a short fuse, too. Raylan can lose it during certain situations and when Kendric gets mad, people start hiding. Yet they always find the middle ground. They always take that much-needed step back before they make a permanent decision.

“What are you doing out here?” Sky asks Kendric.

“Just checking in,” he shoots back, then gives me a playful wink. “How are you holding up, babe?”

“Much better, now that I see you,” I say, smiling softly.

But my humor quickly fades as Thierry Estes’ voice echoes from the lobby. Kendric knows it’s his time to vamoose, so he goes back into the kitchen. The waiter I saw earlier comes back out, but Kendric yanks him by the collar and forces him to use the service exit instead. “We need the breakfast room to be completely clear,” I hear Kendric say.

A muffled rebuttal follows it, but one nasty look from my man is enough to get the waiter quickly in line and slithering out of the restaurant via the service door just as Thierry Estes comes in.

I hold my breath. He hasn’t seen me yet.

I take a couple of seconds to look at him—the real him—for once. This man is my father’s friend. They were partners in several business deals. I’m pretty sure they’re still tied up in one corporation or another. But the fact that he was meeting with my father and Eric Masterson is what’s gotten him here today.

“I guess they’re not here,” Thierry mutters and finally looks around the room. He spots Sky by the beverage cooler. “Excuse me, have you seen a gentleman with short brown hair and blue eyes come in? He’s got an annoying German accent and likely wants his tea black with cold milk on the side.”

“No, but I’m more than happy to assist you in locating him,” Sky replies with a polite smile.

We used several servers and a fake email address to arrange a meeting between Thierry Estes and Morgan Rosenthal, a German national of South African descent, whom I know to have ties to the blood diamond market. I’ve seen his name on several documents back at the store. In public, he passes himself off as a diamond seller who only works with ethical suppliers, but I have heard Thierry refer to him in less-than-savory terms more than once.

When Rosenthal is in town, Thierry’s blood simmers with equal parts fear and excitement. It means there are new diamonds for sale, the kind that would get a man like him thrown in prison for life.

Using Rosenthal as bait was clearly the right decision. Thierry dropped everything to be here.

“I have no business with you,” I hear Thierry say, but then his voice fades as he glances my way and instantly recognizes me. “Ariana! Ariana, is that you?”

“Hi, Mr. Estes,” I reply with a dry smile.

A split second later, Sky locks the breakfast room’s double doors. Thierry stares at him, then at me, then at Kendric and Raylan as they step out of the kitchen, each carrying a Glock. “What is going on here?” he asks, his voice trembling as beads of sweat bloom on his wrinkled, overly tanned forehead.

“Thierry, I think you know exactly what is going on here,” I calmly say. “Why don’t you take a seat? Can I get you some coffee?”

“Ariana, what is going on?” he asks again.

I exhale sharply. Now, there are three Glocks heartlessly aimed at him, and he knows he’s in a heap of trouble. I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head, desperately spinning, his eyes darting all over the place. He knows the crap has hit the fan. There’s no way of ducking what’s coming.

“What is going on is that you and my father have not been very honest to the public about me,” I say. “About anything, for that matter, including your involvement with the Black Hand.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His French accent used to amuse me, but now, it’s just annoying. I cringe slightly and take a deep breath while Kendric moves closer and motions to the chair to Thierry’s right. “You need to sit down,” he tells the old bastard.

“You’re one of those biker mongrels,” Thierry says and narrows his eyes at him.

Kendric raises his gun until the barrel has a direct line to Thierry’s forehead. “You might want to watch what you say.”

“What are you going to do? Shoot me right here in a public place?”

“This room was rented for a private event,” Sky replies. “The staff have already been cleared. You’d be amazed by how much support we can get in and around the city once we tell people we’re looking to take down the Black Hand. Turns out, not a lot of folks are fans.”

“Again, who is this Black Hand—”

Kendric cuts Thierry off. “Sit the fuck down before I make you.”

The Frenchman has enough sense to take a seat, but he looks at me with a mixture of disgust and contempt. “You are breaking your father’s heart, ma cherie. Consorting with the enemy like this.”

“The Black Hand has tried to kill me. Twice,” I reply. “Now stop playing dumb before I get really pissed.”

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