Page 73 of The Good Girl

Sitting here in the house I once made a home with another woman, after being betrayed by everyone I cared about, I can’t help but agree.

“I know,” I say before turning to Mac. “Now tell me the rest.”

Chapter Eighteen

Nevaeh

“So all those businesses are paying the club for protection?” I ask, later that night, as we’re lying in bed.

Havoc’s been filling me in on what he and the guys were talking about earlier. I'm actually surprised. Bikers usually keep their women out of club business, but I guess he realizes that if he wants us to be a team, he has to let me in—even if it's just a little.

“It’s not unusual,” he says, tracing lazy patterns on my back with his fingers. “It means if gangs or punks cause trouble, the club’ll step in. But that’s not what’s happening. People keep calling for help, and all the club did was jack up their protection prices.”

“I would’ve stopped paying if they weren’t doing their jobs,” I grumble.

“Doesn’t work that way,” he admits. “The club would’ve caused trouble to prove a point, then pretend they had nothing to do with it.”

“That’s pretty childish.”

“You’re right. It’s fucked up, and something that shouldn’t be happening,” he concedes. “They’re not some baby upstarts. They didn’t need to sink so low, especially when it’s the club’s fault the businesses want to bail.”

“What else?”

“Huh?”

“I might’ve stopped listening to you guys, but I saw your face. I know it’s more than what you’re telling me.”

He blows out a frustrated breath, and I can tell he’s struggling with whether to tell me or not. I don’t say anything. I know I'm overstepping, so I wait. After a few minutes, he finally speaks. “Women have been going missing.”

I lift my head to look at him, the crack in the blinds letting enough moonlight in to see the circles under his eyes and how angry he looks.

“What?”

He sighs. “It started with a couple women from a few towns over. Apparently, they came to party at the clubhouse. They never went home, and when people came looking, the club denied they’d ever been there. Then, a few months later, another girl went missing. She said she was going to the Raven Souls clubhouse to meet a guy, but he swears up and down that she never showed up. He was pissed she stood him up.”

“Have any more women gone missing?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“And none of the women have been found?”

He shakes his head. “No, not from what Mac and Toot were told. But I’m gonna get G on it.”

“Do you think someone’s trying to mess with the club? Like, deliberately pointing fingers in their direction? I mean, they’d make an easy target, especially if people are already mad at them about the extortion thing.”

“It’s definitely one possibility.”

“And the other?”

“There’s two. The first, the club’s got a brother who’s lost his fucking mind. He’s taking these girls and getting rid of them when he’s done. And the club’s either too distracted to notice or are helping him cover his tracks.” He swallows. I don’t blame him, everything he just said is horrific.

“And the second?” I ask softly, even though I know. I just don’t want to put it into words when I can read Havoc’s heartbreak as clearly as if it were my own.

“The club’s trafficking women.”

I deflate under the weight of his words.

“Some clubs deal in the flesh trade. But that’s not something the Raven Souls have ever gotten into. Sure, it’s been brought up before—there’s a hell of a lot of money involved in trafficking—but it’s always been shot down.”