brother was the only one. He was dangerous, for sure, but he'd killed Steve in self-defense. He didn't come seeking death—he wanted information. If Nicola could find out where Diego's sister was, he would help her get out of here. It was that simple.
Angie was still alive. She had to be. Her body hadn't turned up over the falls yet. Of course, she couldn't be sure Doka had taken her, but what other explanation would suffice?
The confrontation outside continued as Nicola crawled away from the window. She wasn't going to wait to be executed. Out of view, she stood up and marched towards the back of the clubhouse. Where she was going was prohibited, but she had been the good girl long enough. The world hadn't been fair to Nicola for most of her life, and she would be damned if she was going to trust in the world to save her this time.
Nicola had stopped being a victim a long time ago. Taking action, she had learned, was the surest way to achieve an outcome. When she had been an immigrant child sold for sex, she'd tried to please her masters. She had curried favor where she could but it did her little good. She had still been a slave. And the police? Some of the men she had been forced to sleep with were cops. Nicola didn't have any delusions about her value to them.
No, no one had been there for her until she'd been bitten. It was a slow realization at first, but she had eventually learned that she was more powerful than her persecutors. It had finally been time for the world to please her. With the strength in her blood and her innocence lost, the inclination that had come to her was natural. She had torn her masters apart.
Nicola stopped at the door she wasn't supposed to open and made sure she was alone. She was thankful to the MC for taking her in and teaching her how to keep a low profile over the years, but Doka was the polar opposite of what had kept them alive for so long. Whatever they had been up to was going to bring them all down, starting right now with her.
Nicola opened the door to Mom's office and slid in gently. This felt like a betrayal but she knew: where Doka went, Mom ordered. If Angie had been taken by them, then there might be proof somewhere within.
Where would they have kept the kidnapped victims? Mom and some other members had cabins scattered throughout Sycamore, but aside from the falls, she'd never seen any strange activity in the woods. Doka visited the Yavapai reservation at times but it seemed a risky option. He was always complaining about how meddling the tribal police were. It didn't seem like a good place to start.
There was a safe on the floor, but Nicola didn't know the combination. There was also a metal filing cabinet with locked drawers. Mom kept her desk clean, so Nicola dug through the drawers, looking for anything suspicious. Pens, envelopes, small pads of paper—nothing suspicious presented itself.
There was a pistol in a bottom cubby. Nicola's fingers twitched as she pondered taking it. Did she really need the protection? The gun would just put her in more danger. If she used it against the CDC or police, she would be a dead woman. No. There had to be another way.
Her eyes scanned the room frantically. She was running out of time. Some community awards lined the walls. There were some knickknacks in a glass cabinet, little statues and such. She saw a bowl with glass beads in it, but something else inside caught her eye. She opened the glass door and ran her fingers through the beads and pulled out a small key. Then her gaze returned to the filing cabinet.
The heavy locks turned with the key. The top drawer was full of fliers and memorabilia, but the middle one looked more promising. The sections seemed to be personnel files of individuals associated with Mom. MC members were in here, too.
Nicola quickly found her name and opened the light folder. There was a death certificate from one of the men she had killed while fleeing the prostitution ring. Was this blackmail
Angie was still alive. She had to be. Her body hadn't turned up over the falls yet. Of course, she couldn't be sure Doka had taken her, but what other explanation would suffice?
The confrontation outside continued as Nicola crawled away from the window. She wasn't going to wait to be executed. Out of view, she stood up and marched towards the back of the clubhouse. Where she was going was prohibited, but she had been the good girl long enough. The world hadn't been fair to Nicola for most of her life, and she would be damned if she was going to trust in the world to save her this time.
Nicola had stopped being a victim a long time ago. Taking action, she had learned, was the surest way to achieve an outcome. When she had been an immigrant child sold for sex, she'd tried to please her masters. She had curried favor where she could but it did her little good. She had still been a slave. And the police? Some of the men she had been forced to sleep with were cops. Nicola didn't have any delusions about her value to them.
No, no one had been there for her until she'd been bitten. It was a slow realization at first, but she had eventually learned that she was more powerful than her persecutors. It had finally been time for the world to please her. With the strength in her blood and her innocence lost, the inclination that had come to her was natural. She had torn her masters apart.
Nicola stopped at the door she wasn't supposed to open and made sure she was alone. She was thankful to the MC for taking her in and teaching her how to keep a low profile over the years, but Doka was the polar opposite of what had kept them alive for so long. Whatever they had been up to was going to bring them all down, starting right now with her.
Nicola opened the door to Mom's office and slid in gently. This felt like a betrayal but she knew: where Doka went, Mom ordered. If Angie had been taken by them, then there might be proof somewhere within.
Where would they have kept the kidnapped victims? Mom and some other members had cabins scattered throughout Sycamore, but aside from the falls, she'd never seen any strange activity in the woods. Doka visited the Yavapai reservation at times but it seemed a risky option. He was always complaining about how meddling the tribal police were. It didn't seem like a good place to start.
There was a safe on the floor, but Nicola didn't know the combination. There was also a metal filing cabinet with locked drawers. Mom kept her desk clean, so Nicola dug through the drawers, looking for anything suspicious. Pens, envelopes, small pads of paper—nothing suspicious presented itself.
There was a pistol in a bottom cubby. Nicola's fingers twitched as she pondered taking it. Did she really need the protection? The gun would just put her in more danger. If she used it against the CDC or police, she would be a dead woman. No. There had to be another way.
Her eyes scanned the room frantically. She was running out of time. Some community awards lined the walls. There were some knickknacks in a glass cabinet, little statues and such. She saw a bowl with glass beads in it, but something else inside caught her eye. She opened the glass door and ran her fingers through the beads and pulled out a small key. Then her gaze returned to the filing cabinet.
The heavy locks turned with the key. The top drawer was full of fliers and memorabilia, but the middle one looked more promising. The sections seemed to be personnel files of individuals associated with Mom. MC members were in here, too.
Nicola quickly found her name and opened the light folder. There was a death certificate from one of the men she had killed while fleeing the prostitution ring. Was this blackmail
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