Chapter 7: The President's Last Warning
The brick lay on Elena's living room floor, surrounded by glittering pieces of broken glass.
Cole pulled Malik behind him while Elena hurried to lock the back door.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then Malik began to cry.
“Mommy, are they coming inside?””
Elena dropped to her knees and wrapped both arms around him.
“No, baby. You're safe.””
Cole looked at the broken window.
He didn't believe her.
Someone had followed them from the diner. Someone knew where they lived, knew Malik's name, and knew exactly how to make a threat that would terrify Elena into silence.
He pulled out his phone and called Raymond.
“Get over here. Bring somebody you trust, and don't come alone.””
Raymond answered immediately.
“What happened?””
“Somebody threw a brick through Elena's window.””
“Did you see who?””
“No. But I know who sent the message.””
Cole looked at the strip of paper tied around the brick.
“Warren Pike.””
Raymond went silent.
Then he said, “Brother, listen to me. If Warren is involved, you need to get out of that house.””
“Why?””
“Because Marcus just showed up at the clubhouse.””
Cole's expression hardened.
“What did he want?””
“He asked if I'd seen you. Then he told the president you had the photograph.””
Cole glanced at Elena.
She had gone pale.
“Which photograph?”” Cole asked.
“The one from eight years ago. The one with you and Elena.””
Cole tightened his grip on the phone.
“How does Warren know I have it?””
“Because Marcus told him.””
Raymond paused.
“And there's something else. Warren has been asking about Malik.””
Cole felt a cold anger spread through him.
“What exactly did he say?””
“He asked whether the boy had your tattoo.””
Cole looked at the little flame on his wrist.
The drawing. The photograph. The old letter.
Everything was connected.
“Ray, get here,” Cole said.
“Now.””
He ended the call and turned to Elena.
“Pack what you need for Malik. We're leaving.””
Elena looked toward the broken window.
“Where are we going?””
“Somewhere Warren doesn't know about.””
“He knows everything about your club, Cole. If he's been watching me for eight years, there's nowhere he doesn't know about.””
“Then we'll find somewhere he hasn't looked.””
Malik tugged on Cole's vest.
“Can I bring Captain?””
Cole crouched.
“Absolutely.””
The boy disappeared into his bedroom and returned with his stuffed bear, a backpack, and the crayon box he'd carried to the diner.
Cole stared at the crayons.
“Keep those safe, buddy.””
“Why?””
“Because that drawing you made might be the reason we finally find out what happened.””
Malik looked down at the box.
“I just wanted my daddy to come home.””
Cole swallowed hard.
“I know.””
He wanted to tell the boy that everything would be different now. That he'd never have to wonder about his father again. That no one would frighten his mother or threaten their family.
But promises were only as good as the truth behind them.
And Cole still didn't know who had stolen eight years from them.
A car horn sounded outside.
Cole moved toward the front window, keeping away from the broken glass.
Raymond's truck pulled into the driveway.
Two bikers climbed out, both carrying phones and scanning the street.
Cole unlocked the door.
Raymond stepped inside, took one look at the shattered window, and swore under his breath.
“Warren's gone too far.””
“Where is he?””
“At the clubhouse.””
“Then that's where we're going.””
Raymond grabbed Cole's arm.
“Not without a plan. Warren has men who'd follow his orders without asking questions.””
“Then we'll make them ask questions.””
Elena approached them.
“I'm coming.””
Cole shook his head.
“No.””
Her face hardened.
“You don't get to make that decision for me.””
“I'm trying to keep you safe.””
“And I've spent eight years being told what I can and cannot do by men who claimed they were protecting me.””
Cole stopped.
Elena glanced at Malik.
“I'm not letting someone else decide whether I get to know the truth about my own life.””
Raymond looked between them.
“She has a point.””
Cole exhaled slowly.
“Fine. But you stay beside me, and Malik stays with Raymond's wife. Nobody takes him anywhere without both of us knowing.””
Elena nodded.
They left the house together.
Raymond's wife, Denise, arrived ten minutes later and took Malik to her home across town. She promised to keep her phone on and not open the door to anyone she didn't recognize.
Before Malik left, Cole knelt in front of him.
“I need you to stay with Denise for a little while.””
Malik's lower lip trembled.
“Are you coming back?””
“Yes.””
“How do you know?””
Cole looked into the boy's eyes.
“Because I gave you my word.””
Malik hugged him unexpectedly.
Cole froze for half a second, then wrapped his arms around the boy.
The hug lasted only a few seconds.
It was enough to make Cole realize how much he had already begun to love a child he barely knew.
When Malik stepped away, he slipped something into Cole's palm.
A small red crayon.
“For luck,” he whispered.
Cole closed his fingers around it.
Then he watched Denise drive away.
Only after the car disappeared did he turn toward his motorcycle.
The ride to the clubhouse took twenty minutes.
The sun remained bright, but Cole barely noticed the warmth against his face. He kept seeing Malik's expression when he asked whether his father would leave.
At the clubhouse, several motorcycles were parked outside.
Music played from an open garage door.
Men stood around a workbench, talking in low voices. The conversations stopped when Cole entered.
Warren Pike stood near the back wall.
At sixty-two, the club president still carried himself like a man who expected obedience. His gray beard was neatly trimmed, and a gold ring bearing the club's emblem gleamed on his right hand.
Marcus stood beside him.
Neither man looked surprised.
Warren lifted his chin.
“Cole. I was wondering when you'd show up.””
Cole removed his helmet.
“Then you knew I'd come.””
Warren shrugged.
“People tend to get emotional when old memories resurface.””
Cole walked toward him.
“Someone threw a brick through Elena's window.””
Warren's expression didn't change.
“That's unfortunate.””
“You know what else is unfortunate? Eight years ago, somebody convinced Elena I was dead. Somebody told me she'd betrayed me. Somebody made sure we never found each other.””
Marcus folded his arms.
“You're making accusations without evidence.””
Cole turned toward him.
“You signed a report claiming I'd died in an accident that never happened.””
Marcus's jaw tightened.
“That's what I was told.””
“By whom?””
Marcus glanced at Warren.
The movement was brief.
It was also unmistakable.
Cole looked back at the president.
“You.””
Warren sighed and walked toward the workbench.
“You have no idea what you're talking about.””
“Then explain it.””
Warren picked up a metal wrench and set it down again.
“Some truths destroy more than lies ever could.””
Cole stepped closer.
“That's what cowards say when they've run out of excuses.””
Several men shifted uncomfortably.
Warren's face hardened.
“Watch your mouth.””
“No. You watched your mouth for eight years while a woman raised my son believing I was dead.””
Warren froze.
The words had escaped before Cole could stop them.
Marcus stared at him.
“Your son?””
Cole held up the faded photograph.
“Malik. Seven years old. He has my tattoo, my photograph, and my eyes.””
Warren's fingers tightened around the edge of the workbench.
For the first time, the old man looked genuinely frightened.
Then he glanced toward the garage entrance.
Cole followed his gaze.
A man in a charcoal shirt stood just outside the open door.
Darren Whitmore.
He held up his phone.
On the screen was a photograph of Malik sitting on Denise's porch.
Cole lunged forward, but Darren stepped back.
“Easy,” Darren said.
“Nobody wants to hurt the boy.””
Cole's blood boiled.
“You've been following him?””
Darren slipped the phone into his pocket.
“I've been trying to keep him safe.””
“From whom?””
Darren looked directly at Warren.
“From the man who ordered your accident.””
The clubhouse went silent.
Cole turned toward Warren.
The president's face had gone gray.
Darren took a slow breath.
“Warren, I think it's time you told Cole what really happened eight years ago.””
Warren stared at him.
May you like
Then he whispered four words that made Marcus step backward.
“You promised you'd never talk.””
