The Implosion Read online

  He'd packed her tent and moved her vehicle the first week he'd brought her back to his house. The risk of someone questioning an abandoned rig was too high for him to leave it at the campsite.

  In his need to keep Grace's location a secret, he'd erased Grace's information in the registration book in Hank's motorhome and put a phony name in her place. As far as anyone knew, two women named Lisa and Kelli had rented the campsite for the same duration Grace was supposed to have camped in Avery Falls.

  No one needed to tell him what the state police were doing here. He thought he had more time. If they found Grace now, he would not only lose her but would find himself sitting in prison serving a sentence for kidnapping and whatever other charges they could stick on him.

  Jogging to the clubhouse, he unlocked the door, pocketing the padlock as he stepped inside. An uneasy calm greeted him. He peered through the darkness, knowing everyone preferred dealing with their newfound pasts without a spotlight on their reactions.

  Most of the men stood at the back of the room. He scanned the area looking for Prez. Everyone would need to know law enforcement was in the area, so they all could protect themselves. But, while he'd done the crime, the others had other reasons to worry. It would only take one of them getting out and letting others know about the Alpha Bio Project for an investigation to invade their town.

  He joined the group, pushing his way to the center to see what drew their attention, and found Prez standing over a body on the floor. He stepped around Ruger to get a better view and stopped. Steven's still body told him what had happened.

  They'd lost another man. An MC brother bonded to all of them by his loyalty to the club.

  "Fuck this." Ruger knocked into Keenan's shoulder as he escaped the crowd.

  Several others moved away. Keenan approached Prez. Understanding passed between them. Steven had chosen not to deal with his past. His newly returned emotions had made it possible to end the pain by his own hand.

  He couldn't fault Steven. The Alpha Bio Project had to have known what the switch would do to them. If anyone was responsible, it was those in charge of the project.

  "I'm burying them in the woods." Prez bent over and lugged Steven over his shoulders and straightened.

  "Them?" He followed Prez to the back door. "How many more have we lost?"

  "Since last night...four." Prez stopped, waiting for Keenan to unlock the padlock to let him out.

  "The originals?"

  Prez shook his head. "Far as I know, we're all alive. Johnny's still missing, though."

  He exhaled in relief. They were all brothers, but the originals had gone through the project together. At one time, it was only the six of them. They were responsible for the club and running the town. They couldn't afford to lose anyone, and he hoped Johnny realized that and came back.

  "Do you need help?" He shoved the door open.

  "No." Prez stepped outside. "Stay with the others while I see to Steven."

  "There's a state policeman at the RV Park." He stood in the doorway.

  Prez never missed a step and spoke under his breath. "Deal with it."

  He watched his president carrying the burden of what the Alpha Bio Project had done to them until the trees blocked his view. Then, he set the padlock on the ground outside for Prez to use once he came back.

  Knowing he couldn't leave the front door unlocked for long before the others noticed, he went back inside.

  Without bothering the men, he took a headcount and judged the stage they were in. Instead of a hostile group, they were all in a somber mood. Whether from losing Steven or the changes were coming faster than they could handle.

  Each of them trained as an emotionless killer was now finding they were affected by the loss of others. That loss was personal.

  He went out the front of the building, locking the door from the outside. His basic security system seemed to keep the others inside for the time being. Tomorrow, everything could change. They'd reached their low. Now they had to climb back up to become active citizens within Avery Falls.

  "Keenan," whispered a familiar voice.

  He stopped at the gate and peered around. "Johnny?"

  "How many of us are left?"

  He opened the gate, still not seeing his MC brother. "We've lost nine men."

  "Fucking hell," muttered Johnny, still whispering under his breath.

  "Where are you?" He turned in a circle. "Where have you been?"

  "Montana. Idaho. Washington." Johnny coasted toward him on his Harley. "I just kept going, trying to outrun the changes."

  He approached Johnny when he stopped and shut off the engine. "Did it work?"

  Johnny shook his head. "I came back."

  "Why?"

  "It's all I know." Johnny gazed toward the gate. "Is everyone inside?"

  "Most of them. Trip and Speeder are at the cabin."

  Johnny's gaze swung back to Keenan. "Prez?"

  "Out back, burying Steven."

  Johnny closed his eyes an extra beat. Keenan slapped him in the arm, getting his attention, and handed over the key for the padlock. "Go in. He needs help with the others. Make sure you lock yourself inside and if you leave, lock it on the outside. Keep the key. I have another one."

  Johnny's chest expanded, and he reluctantly took the key and headed toward the clubhouse. Keenan locked the gate. Prez and Johnny were able to keep the men safe. Now all they needed was Trip and Speeder back and willing to uphold their loyalty to the club.

  He wouldn't count out Hank yet. While the originals would need to deal with Hank's past, they needed all the men they could keep.

  Per Prez's orders, he rode over to the RV Park to deal with the police. The Idaho State policeman was still there, talking to a few of the campers. As an AFMC member, he'd need to do his part in providing information to the officer.

  He hesitated at his bike, looking in his duffle as a cover for overhearing the conversation.

  "Go ahead and pass the flyer around the campground. If anyone has any information, they can call the number at the bottom."

  "What happened to her?"

  "As of right now, she's a missing person."

  "Damn shame. She's a pretty woman. What was she doing hiking by herself?"

  "We'd appreciate it if you and the others keep your eyes open when you're out recreating. If you see her or anything of interest, call that number on the card," said the policeman, giving little of the details to the public.

  Keenan zipped up his duffle, having heard enough. He walked straight to the police car, gaining the law enforcement officer's attention.

  "Something I can help you with?" Keenan held out his hand. "I'm Keenan, a member of Avery Falls Motorcycle Club."

  He gave him the name the Alpha Bio Project had assigned him. To give his real name, he would probably be in the system for all the drug charges he'd accumulated through the years. All the policeman needed to know was that he was a club member. Everyone knew who owned the town.

  "I'm Trooper Sandberg." He shook Keenan's hand and then handed him a paper. "We're doing a follow-up on a missing woman by the name of Grace Lambert." He pointed at the picture. "Her sister reported her missing on the thirteenth of June. She believes Ms. Lambert was coming to Avery Falls on June seventh and staying until the twelfth. She supposedly had reservations at Avery Falls RV Park. I would like to speak to the person in charge. I understand from talking with the campers that the park attendant has been absent during their stay. If I could talk to someone who can let me see the campsite that Ms. Lambert was staying at and view any surveillance tapes during that time period, I'd appreciate it."

  "June?" Keenan whistled. "It's been a busy tourist season. Hundreds of people come through here daily. It's been a while, and the name doesn't ring a bell. Though, this is my first year taking over the park from my MC brother. I'm splitting duties here, and at the store, so I'll have to look through the book."

  He'd take all the blame. He wasn't going to set up Hank to take the
fall.

  "Can I see the records?"

  Keenan nodded. "Let me walk over and get the reservation book out of the motorhome."

  "Thank you." Trooper Sandberg stepped away and spoke into the radio piece hooked to the shoulder of his shirt.

  After hearing him discuss other business first, Keenan retrieved the book, flipping through the pages as he returned to the trooper.

  "What were the dates again?" he asked.

  "June seventh through the twelfth."

  Do you have the license plate of her RV? It's easier to look up the information."

  Trooper Sandberg widened his stance. "No RV. She stayed in a tent."

  "Ah." Keenan thumbed through the back half of the book. "We reserve them as two separate units...different areas." He turned the book around. "Here's the list of tent campers for June. You can go down the first column and see the dates they stayed."

  Trooper Sandberg studied the book, taking pictures with his cell phone. Keenan hung back, letting him peruse the information. After a while, the trooper retrieved his notebook and thumbed through the pages.

  "Her sister was positive Grace had reservations for a camping site C7," said Trooper Sandberg.

  "That's across the bridge on a short path along the river. We've set up sites for seven parties. C7 would be the first one on the trail." He pointed across the river where he could see the cleared areas of each site. "Feel free to walk through the sites if you need."

  Trooper Sandberg nodded his thanks and pointed to the book. "These names here. It says they were here during that time and camping in C7."

  He leaned over and read the names. "Ah, Lisa and Kelli." He chuckled. "They're returning campers. Best friends. Funnier than hell. They always spend a week here in the summer. They've been coming here for...oh, about six-seven years. They like to go up to the alpine lake with their paddleboards. They leave their husbands at home and have a heck of a time while they de-stress."

  Trooper Sandberg raised his gaze. "Security recordings?"

  "Cell service barely works in the Bitterroot Mountains. We have a belief in not infringing on the privacy of the campers. We've never seen a need to record what other people are doing on our land because we make sure all the campers follow the rules—for their safety and to protect the forestry area," he said.

  Trooper Sandberg removed a business card from his pocket and handed it over. "If you remember anything about Grace Lambert, give me a call on that line."

  "Will do."

  "Thanks for your time." Trooper slipped his notepad back in his pocket. "I'll have a look around and leave some flyers at the store."

  "Help yourself."

  Keenan walked over to his Harley. Riding out of the RV Park, he headed toward the clubhouse until he was out of view, and then, he then cut across the empty lot and headed home to Grace.

  He'd been gone longer than he'd planned. She was probably worried.

  As he shut off the engine, he remembered he hadn't stopped in at the store and grabbed the cash bag from J.J. Walking to the front door, he shrugged off the responsibility. He could stop in the morning and pick the profits up. Right now, he only wanted to get inside and be with Grace.

  The pressure of keeping her had escalated with the arrival of the cop. It was too soon. The club members were almost done with the switch. But they needed time to accept the changes. They were doing better than he had, alone in the cabin.

  They weren't alone. Support of the others would help them adjust faster.

  He hoped Grace, too, would see they'd survive if they stayed together.

  Chapter Thirty

  Keenan grabbed the overhead bar and curled his arms, lifting himself until his chin was above the bar. Grace rubbed his lips together, taking in the way his muscles rippled with the effort.

  When Keenan had given her the option to go with him to the pole building or stay in the house, she'd jumped at the chance for some fresh air. Even if it only took thirty seconds to walk across the grass. She'd needed the earth beneath her feet and the stars above her head to remind her that life was moving on without her. That somewhere out there, her sister was alone and missing her.

  Keenan's cock hardened without him missing a pullup.

  She raised her brows, amused by him. He seemed to always be aroused.

  "If you keep looking at me that way, I won't get my exercises done." He lifted, dropped, and lifted his body again. "Hold it."

  "What?"

  "Hold my dick."

  "Seriously?"

  "I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it." He pulled up, not even breaking a sweat.

  "It's not going to mess you up?" She paused. "I don't want to make it harder for you to exercise, and then it takes you longer to finish."

  She wanted to go to bed soon and have him all to herself for the rest of the night. Today had gone slow with him gone until dark. She was going crazy, stuck inside by herself.

  "My dick needs exercise, too."

  She stepped closer and caught his cock as he went down. Wrapping her fingers around his girth, she moved her hand with the pattern of him doing pullups.

  Up. Down. Up. Down.

  He grew in her hand. She glanced up at him, then back down at the veins along the length of him.

  "When you mentioned those people made you enhanced, did they...do something with this part of you?"

  He straightened his arms and hung from the bar. "No."

  "If they gave you drugs to forget, they might've...I don't know, shot you up with steroids or some drug that made you bigger than any other man."

  "They didn't."

  "Hm." She stroked him. "Were you this big before the project?"

  He pulled up, went down, and back up. "I probably gained a hundred pounds. I was skinny before."

  She studied his upper thighs. There were white stretch marks that she'd noticed before high on his legs and where his armpits met his biceps. By how much he worked out, she assumed he'd gained muscles at a fast rate.

  "But my cock is the same size as it was before the project."

  She stroked the subject of their attention. While he was freely answering her questions, she had a few other things she was curious about.

  "What about your family? Did they know you were in the project? What do they think about it?"

  He let go of the bar and dropped to his feet. She lost contact with him.

  Keenan walked to the swimming pool and dove in. She followed him. It was obvious she'd pushed her luck. But why wouldn't he tell her more about himself? Everything he talked about pertained to now, never the past.

  Sure, he'd told her about spending many, many years in a project that abused and brainwashed him. But he never talked about his experience through it all or what kind of life he had before his enhancements.

  She walked to the other end of the pool and slipped off her shorts and T-shirt. Getting into the hot tub, she decided to wait him out without asking any more questions.

  She lasted ten minutes before her body overheated from the water, and she climbed out and sat on a chair to cool off. Keenan still swam laps, barely raising his head out of the water.

  Scooting down in the chair, she let her head fall to the back and closed her eyes. The air felt good on her skin. Warm and relaxed, she wondered what her sister was doing at the moment. She blinked to awareness, reminded that Amelia was alone and afraid something had happened to her. If their positions were reversed and she had found out Amelia was shacked up with a man and hadn't called her to tell her she was okay, she'd flip out.

  Getting up, she walked over and put her clothes back on. Instead of thinking about Keenan all the time, she needed to find a way to end the danger surrounding her. She was starting to doubt Keenan could solve the club's problems or stop the men he believed were responsible for bringing her here.

  "Hey." Keen pulled himself out of the pool and grabbed a towel. "You okay?"

  She blew out her breath, tired of always telling him she wasn't okay and nothing changi
ng. "I want to talk to my sister."

  "Soon."

  She reached up and gathered her wet hair, flipping it over one shoulder. They were compatible in bed, out of bed, but their communication skills needed work. He just wouldn't listen when it came to her sister, and he wouldn't talk when it came to his life before the project.

  Keenan pulled on a pair of gray sweatpants. Since it was dark outside, she stayed back while he opened the door and looked around. When it was safe, he gathered her hand and led her out. She looked up at the stars, feeling a million miles away from Canyon Beach. Even the air was different here. Instead of salt, there was pine freshness in the breeze. Grass under her feet instead of sand. The hoot of an owl instead of roaring from the waves hitting the beach.

  One area wasn't better than the other. Each had its own beauty. But her heart was pulled in two different directions, and the battle going on inside of her had started to make her miserable.

  Keenan opened the back door for her. She slid past him and walked into the kitchen. Still overheated from the hot tub, she grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and took it to the living room.

  As soon as Keenan entered the room, she said, "Can I write a letter and mail it to Amelia?"

  "Babe..." He sat and pulled her over until she leaned against his chest. "It'll only complicate the situation. In a few days, we'll have better control of what is happening around here, and you'll be able to call her."

  "You keep saying that."

  "Because I mean it." He rubbed the back of her neck. "I understand it's hard for you, Grace, and you're close to your sister. But there are over a hundred lives that depend on secrecy until we can get control of the situation and make sure we're protected. That you're protected."

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against his chest. Guilt kept her quiet. She couldn't sacrifice the lives and livelihood of so many people—a town, to talk to her sister a few days earlier than planned. When all was said and done, Amelia would have to understand—God, she hoped her sister would understand and eventually be happy for her.

  Keenan strummed his thumb against the side of her breast. The tenderness he showed her brought tears to her eyes. She was an emotional wreck. Extreme highs, depressing lows. It was enough to make her go insane.