The Biker's Rules novel Chapter 61

***POV - Damion

"Let s get ready, guys." I push the button and the bookshelf moves, displaying the winding staircase that leads downstairs. Some people are surprised, seeing the hidden room for the first time, some have seen it before.

I grab two more sandwiches from the kitchen table and slam my arm around my mom. The devastation I see in her eyes mirrors mine, hers just lacks the darkness I know is stuffed behind my soul.

Logan arrives with Jesse and Noah, carrying some duffle bags. We also walk down the stairs.

This secret room is more than just a garage for the racing bikes, it is also one of the most sophisticated rooms any spying agency could ever want, thanks to the Blackburn company. Logan drops the bags on the floor and drags Jesse to get acquainted with the high-tech computer area.

"Guys, there s some gear for each of you, and Ale, you ll use Jackson s bike." My brother pouts his mouth and salutes Logan playfully. From one of the bags, Logan retrieves a spray can and starts shaking it.

"You all know that the company created this new tracking device. You spray it onto the skin and it leaves an invisible mark that makes it possible to locate the person for at least two days. Brilliant stuff."

Walking around the room he sprays all of us with the invisible marker while Ilkay swabs our mouths, getting each one s DNA, necessary for the tracker to work. Uncle John inserts each DNA stick into a small lab device, (something that is apparently a PCR, centrifuge, and more all in one – but let s stick to gadget) and it, in turn, sends each DNA record it pulls up to Jesse s computer where he links it with the tracker and combines it with a name.

This way, he knows exactly which dot on his computer belongs to which guy and where he is. When we re all done, Jesse makes sure each of us is registered and displayed on the screen. Dad checks the radio contact devices. He s going to handle that part with Noah.

Five-twenty-five, the flashing light on the computer screen displays. I m fucking sure time is standing still. Scary thoughts trigger my demons and they start to tip-toe slowly around in my head. I close my eyes to try and still the pitter-patter of their feet, but just thinking about everything he s maybe doing to her … Fuck!

The sound of my fist against the locker crowds out the noises in my head a little.

"I ve scanned the fingerprint on the finger and it belongs to a Xander Blackburn. Guess he s family?" The question mark between Jesse s brows spread across the room. The pinky belongs to Mel s dad? Fuck me.

"Dad? Where in hell did Harry find him?" I m sure Ilkay means that in the literal sense, seeing that hell has a special place for people like Xander and Harry.

"At least it s not Jackson s," Enrique confirms and everybody sighs a breath of relief, our bro still has all 10 fingers for now.

"Don't judge your father too harshly, guys ... he's not the man you think him to be. Let s just say there s a whole other side to the story and we were all framed, but Harry doesn t want to believe it." Garcia softly mentions, but he doesn't elaborate too much. "Now is not the time to go into details, but just keep it in mind."

Putting on the black SWAT-team-like clothes, fully equipped with even bullet-prove vests my phone laying on the bench beside me pings a few times, and I grab it quickly.

Mel: Opera House in Van Ness Ave – come alone.

Hopeful eyes are glued on me, waiting for any news, good news, bad news, but before I can say a word a photo hits my screen, and this time I feel my gagging reflex working overtime to swallow down the puke that pushed up into my mouth. Mel is standing against a pillar, her arms pulled back, probably tied up. He tore open her shirt leaving some sexy lavender underwear exposed. In a flashback, I recognize it as the ones I picked up in her room once, that feels like ages ago.

Her face is bruised and the look in her eyes sends up some more of the burning liquid, I swallow, I have to keep it in.

"Say something!" Enrique yells at me, but the clatter of creeping footsteps from my demons turns into a full-on stampede. My heart is torn from my chest, my body stuck immobile, then

Alejandro takes the phone from my hand. Blood drains from his face and a single word drops from his lips, "Sorella." It s so soft, I m not even sure he said anything, but it s enough to stop the sudden frenzied rush and push the demons back again – for a while at least.

"He s fucking dead!" Ok, that part I heard loud and clear, expressing my own exact thoughts.

"I have to be at the War Memorial Opera House in an hour – alone."

"Ok, boys. The battle has begun. Damion, you won t have any radio contact with us, but I can track your every move. The boys will be just behind you the whole time." Jesse shakes his head and for the first time, I feel the tickling of hope trying to push through my broken thoughts. And who knew that having a computer-nerd in the group would come in helpful.

The whole drive up to the opera house I gain back my control, to be the master of my demons, and as soon as I feel that familiar calmness on the outside, darkness on the inside feeling I know that I m ready to face anything. I know the fucker sent me the photos to break me down, to screw with my mind, but he hasn t met the devil face to face yet. A small smile creeps onto my lips.

I stop my bike but don t get off, and scout the area. I notice a white van and drive towards it, remembering that a white van took my little brother. Knowing my guys are close by reassures me, sets me at ease. Three huge, gang-type men are leaning against the van, watching my every move, and my guts turn a few times for what s to come.

"My wife and kids can also buy a nice house in a safe area," Hitler explains and I look at Trash, but he just stares at his feet.

"His brother needs an artificial limb after they shot off his leg." I m almost tearjerked by the unselfishness of these gangsters – guys most people would look with a frown upon.

"And living there is worse than death... so it's not a bad deal." Fuckit, they are willing to give their lives to help the people they love. That s freaking courage. And maybe I can help them and myself in one blow.

"How sure are you he s going to hold up his end of the deal? I mean you would already be dead or in jail." I give some time for my words to sink in, and I can see that they re suddenly worried. Then I continue with my plan.

"What if you can get everything you want without any risk?" They look at me as if I m from another planet, talking a whole new language they don t understand.

"Ok, just hear me out … I can give each of you a million dollars, you know I ve got enough money, you can leave with your loved ones, start a whole new life somewhere, and Garcia will owe you a huge favor. How s that?"

Please take it, please take it, I chant in my mind.

"Keep talking," Hitler s eyes catch mine in the mirror again.

"See, Harry has my girl, my little brother, and some of my friends, I just need them all back in one piece. But to do that, I need your help." My eyes are pleading with them.

"And you promise to give us the money."

"On my sister s grave, no strings attached." Guppy has been quiet for some time, his bulging eyes staring at me as if he s trying to figure something out. Then his thick lips pull into an ugly ass smile. The three look at each other for a little while.

"I m in." Guppy then says, Hitler and Trash also nod in agreement. Great.

"Ok, this is what I need you to do … "