Page 16 of Traitor

If Monica was taken out by the Sons of Death because she knew something, then they had to be watching Lauren closely right about now. And they wouldn’t hesitate to kill her.

I nodded at Grey. “I’m in, but I want club protection on her at all times.”

“I’ve already taken care of it.”

There wasn’t any way to fix what I’d done, but I was still going to do everything in my power to keep her safe. That had to be enough for now.

Lauren

March 2015

The smell of gunpowder permeated the air as I made my way over to my lane. I’d wanted to leave work and go straight home, but I needed more practice.

And I didn’t exactly feel safe there anymore.

Not only had my front door been kicked in, but the entire apartment had been ransacked. Based on the note that had been spray painted on the door, I had my suspicions that it was the same biker who’d been sitting in the parking lot watching me.

He hadn’t found what he’d been looking for though. Not that it made me feel any better—Monica’s notes were disjointed at best. I had seven scraps of paper with various names and dates scrawled on them, a coaster from a biker bar, and a business card that featured a smiley face with a gun pointed to its head.

Not exactly the stuff you see on an episode of CSI.

“Hola, Lauren. How’s it hanging today?” I looked up from my bag to see the range officer grinning at me. He couldn’t have been older than twenty-two, but was extremely knowledgeable on all things gun-related.

“I’m doing good, LR. Just can’t stay away.” He gave me a knowing smile and walked down to the next lane.

After my encounter with the bikers and coming home to find that my apartment had been broken into, I refused to become just another victim.

It hadn’t been easy. All I’d wanted to do was wallow in self-pity. Well, that and call up Mike. My heart was self-destructive, obviously. Instead of falling apart, I went out and bought myself a handgun and took a basics class. Then I started frequenting the range to hone my skills. If another biker had the audacity to pull a gun on me again, I wanted to be ready to put a bullet between his eyes without hesitation. I hadn’t bothered with calling the police—what was the point?They were just as corrupt as the bikers.

I laid out my box of ammo and my Glock 19 before digging through my bag to find my eyes and ears. I was the girl who’d shown up completely clueless my first day. When I’d checked in, the front staff had asked me if I had my eyes and ears and I’d responded with,“Obviously.”

Once everyone stopped laughing, I learned that they’d meant protective gear for my eyes and ears. My face had been bright red with embarrassment the rest of my visit, but I made sure that I knew the lingo after that.

I released the magazine and began loading as LR walked up again. I was starting to think that he never took a day off. The first time I met him, I’d assumed that he enjoyed helping people. However, he never seemed to pay much attention to anyone else on the range and I quickly came to the conclusion that he was working up the courage to ask me out.

“So, you got any plans after this?” He casually asked.

I hid a small smile and answered, “Just going home. What about you?”

What was the harm in flirting with the RO? He was pretty cute. His black hair was spiked up messily on top of his head, giving him that strong hipster vibe. There was such an intensity to his brown eyes, that I found it hard to stare for longer than a few seconds. And he might not have been built like Mike, but his arms definitely had some definition. He just needed a little more time with the free weights.

He inspected my gun before meeting my eyes again. “I—uh, I was gonna grab a bite to eat. You interested?”

I took my gun from his hand, keeping it pointed downrange. Was I in any shape to date someone? Absolutely not. But sharing a meal wasn’t off-limits.

“Sure. Sounds good.”

He left with another grin and I focused on my target, envisioning the parking lot biker’s face with every pull of the trigger. I’d told Torch about him and gotten a lot of questions in return.

Was he wearing a leather vest?

What patches were on display?

I hadn’t paid any attention to what was on his vest, but promised that I would look the next time he showed up. He never had and I was left to speculate as to where he’d gone. Now, when I left work, I saw Torch glaring at me from across the parking lot with a lit cigarette hanging from his lips.

We were back to square one.

I’d Googled the names that Monica had written down, but nothing came up. These men didn’t exist, according to the worldwide web. And while Torch kept pushing for any information I could give him, I didn’t want to give him anything until I knew what it meant myself.

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