When Dove Cries Read online

  “I know,” Cade replied. “Poor kid—”

  “She is not a kid,” Draven stressed. “Hiller wouldn’t have taken a kid. You know that.”

  “I know. She’s really young, though. If you’re staying, then I’m staying.”

  “I still have dibs on the cot.”

  Chapter Three

  Slowly, awareness fluttered back to Dove. First, there were noises. The gentle swish of the air conditioning. The hum of a machine. Then came the antiseptic cleanliness of the air. Finally, she felt the stiff bleached sheets tucked in around her. She cracked her eyelids. A white room and light green curtain. A hospital. It meant she was rescued. She was safe.

  She shifted her gaze and saw her angel reclined in a chair next to the bed. His arms lay crossed over his massive chest and his booted feet were crossed at the ankles. His chin rested on his chest as he dozed, and she was afraid he was going to wake up with a painful crick.

  Draven. Was that his first or last name?

  She took a moment to study him, admiring his sandy blond hair that hung a little long over his collar. She vaguely remembered he had pretty blue eyes. He wore a black leather vest over a white T-shirt that looked as if it had seen better days. On the upper left-hand side, she read the name of his motorcycle club, The Red Wolves, and under that was a patch that said V. President. She didn’t know anything about motorcycle clubs or motorcycles in general. In fact, her father had warned her not to get too close to the rough men who lived the biker life. They were trouble, he’d said. Clearly, her father had been wrong, because this man sitting next to her bed was her angel, her savior, and she was going to stick by his side the rest of her life. If that meant living among bikers, so be it.

  At that moment, the door opened and another biker walked in wearing black leather with a satchel that hung diagonally across his body. His leather vest had a patch that said Nomad. He was just as tall as her angel, although his body seemed a little suppler in its strength. Silver shot through his dark, cropped hair, and the puppy dog brown eyes that met her gaze made her belly quiver with attraction, even in her weakened state. He carried two cups of coffee and halted when he saw that she was awake. A small smile graced his lips, and a dimple popped up in his left cheek that softened his harsh countenance. She returned the smile and watched as he made his way to the other side of her bed where an empty chair waited. He set the coffees down upon the C-arm table that hugged the bed over her legs.

  “Hello,” he whispered.

  “Hello,” she whispered back.

  “I’m Cadence, but call me Cade—Cade Vanaker. You probably don’t remember me, but I was there yesterday with John.”

  “John?”

  Cade nodded toward the sleeping man on the other side of her bed. “John Draven. What’s your name?”

  “Dove Aldrin.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Dove, although it’s crappy circumstances.”

  She flinched at the memories of the circumstances. “He won’t find me, will he? He won’t hurt me again?”

  Cade slowly reached out and took her hand in his. He caressed the soft skin right above where the white gauze ended with his thumb. The soft attraction fluttering in her belly blossomed through the rest of her body.

  “I promise you, he won’t hurt you again. He’s dead, Dove. That’s why you were forgotten in that shit hole.”

  It took a moment for the words to settle into her brain and when they did, tears flooded her eyes. All that time, she’d been too scared to move or to save herself, and the ass who put her there was dead. Recollections of the pain, the lack of food, the smells, came back to her, and she wanted to throw up. If she hadn’t found the courage to get out of there, she could have died for no reason.

  “Shh,” he murmured as he wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You’re safe.”

  “I feel so stupid,” she managed to say. “I could’ve left.”

  “You aren’t stupid,” he assured her emphatically. “You did nothing wrong. Men like that prey on a woman’s psyche. They torment and intimidate until she’s helpless.”

  “He told me that he would hurt me if I left.” She shook her head, hating how foolish she’d been. “I believed him.”

  “You did the right thing. You were a victim. But you weren’t the only one, Dove. That man hurt other women too. He killed other women. So you were lucky. You hear me?”

  She nodded.

  “And I’m going to protect you,” Draven said as he woke up. He stretched as he stood up. “Is one of those coffees for me?”

  “We’re going to protect you,” Cade told her. “He keeps forgetting that part. And yes, John. The one closest to you has milk.”

  “Black, dickhead. I told you I like my coffee black.”

  “Did you? Must have slipped my mind. Maybe next time you’ll get the coffees.”

  John Draven narrowed his eyes, and she could almost see him shoot invisible daggers at Cade. It made her giggle.

  Draven shot her a surprised look and he grinned. “How’re you feeling, sweetheart?”

  “A little better,” she replied. “Not so hungry. How long have I been here?”

  A glower briefly crossed his face. “You’ll never be hungry again. I’ll make sure of that.”

  “You’ve been sedated for two days,” Cade told her. “You were malnourished and slightly dehydrated, so you’ve been on IV drips. Your wrists were really infected, so antibiotics are in the mix.”

  She nodded, processing all that he was telling her. “You’re both bikers?”

  “Yep,” Draven answered, sitting down and taking a sip of his coffee. He grimaced and set it back on the table. “I’m the vice president of the Red Wolves club. Cade is… He’s a nomad from a friendly club who’s asking to stay with us for a while.”

  “That means I roam around,” Cade answered her unasked question. “John here was nice enough to offer me a place to stay.”

  She watched the interplay between the two men. It wasn’t exactly friendly. In fact, tension arced between them. She hoped she wasn’t the cause of their strained relationship.

  A doctor entered, shutting up both men. They rose to their feet and greeted him.

  “Hi, Doc,” Draven said.

  “Morning,” the doctor said, nodding at both of them. Then he smiled at her. “Hello, Dove. My name is Dr. Blake. You’re looking a little better today. Not quite as pale.”

  “I feel better,” she replied. “Not as nauseated.”

  “Your IVs are replacing all the nutrients that you haven’t had in a while, plus giving you fluids and medicine.” He pointed to her wrists, both of which were wrapped up in white gauze. “May I check them?”

  She nodded, surprised that he’d asked her permission. Maybe that was standard procedure with a victim like her.

  He carefully unwrapped one wrist then the other, and for the first time Dove got a good look at them. In the dark, she hadn’t been able to see what was going on, only knowing that they were a constant source of pain for her. The red, broken skin had swelled until she didn’t have a wrist at all. Yellow pus leaked in a couple of places. Just looking at them made tears run down her cheeks, tears she hadn’t realized she was shedding until Draven wiped them away. Startled, she looked up at him and saw the grim horror in his gaze.

  “I know they look awful,” Dr. Blake murmured. “But they are responding to the antibiotics. Stay put. I’m going to have a nurse come in and re-bandage them for you.”

  She held her arms up and out, not wanting them to touch anything. A second later, a nurse walked in and gave her a gentle smile as she carefully spread an ointment around the lacerations and wrapped them with new gauze.

  Dr. Blake wrote on her chart until the nurse was done. Once she’d left, he gave Dove a long, measured look. “The sheriff wants to talk with you. Do you feel up to it?”

  Dove nodded.

  “Okay. I’ll call him.”

  “Is she stable enough to move, Doc?” Draven asked.

 
“No,” Dr. Blake all but growled.

  The angry vehemence in Doc’s voice shocked Dove. She looked between the two men and wondered at the doctor’s sudden attitude change. Dove shook her head. “I don’t have anywhere to go—”

  “Yes,” Draven said, overriding her answer. “She’s going to stay with me at my house. She’ll be well cared for and have lots of protection.”

  “Right now she isn’t going anywhere,” Dr. Blake replied tautly. “I’ll be back later in the day, and we’ll discuss her discharge then. She should remain here, and I’d hate to write AMA in her chart.”

  “Against medical advice,” Cade clarified. “No problem, Doc. Don’t forget to get Sheriff Halloran.”

  With a controlled nod to each of them, he turned and left.

  “What’s his problem?” she asked.

  “I don’t like this hospital,” Draven replied. “So hurry up and get better so I can bust you outta here.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” she murmured softly. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

  “You’re no burden, sweetheart,” Draven said, smiling at her.

  “You’ll have both of us to cater to your every need,” Cade added.

  “Huh?” Draven asked, frowning at him.

  Cade gave him a satisfied smirk. “I’m moving in too.”

  * * * *

  “The girl’s been found,” Gunner stated as he popped the cap off a beer bottle. He set it down in front of Gray Dog with a sharp clack on the bar’s rough surface. They were in the corner away from the other members, keeping their voices low so they could discuss business without being heard.

  “What girl?” Gray Dog asked. He picked up the beer and swallowed half of it in one gulp.

  “The one at the mill. The Indian girl.”

  Gray Dog scowled. “I thought she was already dead.”

  “Apparently not. She’s at the hospital under the watchful eyes of Draven and some other Red Wolf wannabe.”

  “Shit. How is it the Wolves keep finding our mistakes? God damn it, she can identify me.”

  Gunner nodded. “I’ll take care of it.”

  Gray Dog grunted and took another swig of his beer. “We might have to shut down, at least temporarily. I didn’t want to kill Hiller, but he was a dumb fuck. Without him, however, we don’t have our incoming supply.”

  “Without product, we’ll lose our investors,” Gunner warned. “They might not like that.”

  “Can’t be helped. Maybe if we can tie up this loose end, we’ll be fine, but if that fucking girl starts talking, this club is going down.”

  “I said I’ll take care of it.”

  “Do it before she blabs her fucking mouth.”

  Gunner gave one nod, turned and walked out of the bar. He felt no remorse for what he was about to do. He’d been ‘taking care of it’ for years, ever since Gray Dog had brought him in off the streets and offered him a place to live, first as a prospect, then as a member of the Demon Devils. He’d worked his way up the ranks until he was Sergeant-at-Arms, or more specifically, the club’s enforcer. He owed Gray Dog everything, and by damn, he’d protect his club with everything he had. Killing one more girl would come as easy to him as breathing.

  Chapter Four

  Cade made sure that Dove was asleep before he pulled out the file in his satchel. It was thick and held all the information the FBI had managed to obtain about the trafficking ring, which, sadly, wasn’t that much.

  “What’s that?” Draven asked as he munched on his fries. He’d made a food run just after Dove had fallen asleep.

  “My file on this case. I thought you’d like to take a look at it.”

  Draven nodded as he pushed his fries away on the table and held out his hand. Cade handed over the folder.

  “All the information came from Detective Brian Harmon from Durango,” Cade said as Draven absorbed the information. “He called the FBI after learning about sixteen missing women in a four-year period. We know one girl was killed by Hiller, and with Allis and Dove rescued, that leaves thirteen unaccounted for.”

  Draven sifted through several papers.

  “Dove’s initials are right before Allis’,” Draven replied as he stared at one sheet. “The date is a week before Allis’s, so Dove was down there five weeks. Shit.”

  “She may look fragile, but it takes strength to survive what she has,” Cade murmured. “She’s so damn young.”

  “What’s our next move?” Draven asked.

  “I have no doubt Hiller was working for Lester Perry, AKA Gray Dog. I need to find concrete proof to shut down the Demon Devils.”

  “Say no more. You had me at shut down the Demon Devils. You know, North and I knew those fuckers were doing something big, but I never dreamed it was human trafficking.”

  “Well, we may need to move quickly, because with Allis and Dove rescued, Gray Dog may be closing up shop, feeling it’s too risky to continue.”

  “Any leads?”

  Cade nodded toward Dove. “Just her.”

  * * * *

  Dove spent the rest of the morning napping. The nurse would come by every couple of hours to change her IV fluids and take her vitals. Lunch consisted of soup and Jell-O—easy fare for her shrunken stomach. She felt bad for both men, who didn’t leave her side, even as she napped, because she knew they had to be bored beyond belief. But she was glad that they’d stayed with her. She felt safe with them there. They were like protective lions keeping their eyes on her.

  She had just begun to drift off once more when she heard murmuring voices and opened her eyes to see two men and a petite, dark-haired woman at the foot of the bed. Cade stood to the side, arms folded as he watched the visitors. The woman was breathtaking, with delicate Native American features and thick, raven hair. She watched Dove with caring, dark eyes. When she shifted in the bed, all the men shut up and their gazes fell on her.

  “Dove,” Draven murmured, smiling comfortingly at her. “This is North Tabion, Sheriff Givon Halloran, and this is Allis Evening. North is the president of the Wolves. The sheriff has some questions he needs to ask you. Are you up for it, sweetheart?”

  Dove loved it when he called her sweetheart. She nodded and gave a strained smile. But before Givon could say anything, Allis reached out and took Dove’s hand in hers, squeezing tightly.

  “I was a victim too,” she told Dove in a low voice. “He shot me, though, as I tried to escape.”

  Dove’s eyes widened. “That’s why I didn’t try to get out of that hole right away. He said he would hurt me.”

  Allis nodded. “You did the right thing, Dove. And I’m here for you. Whatever you need, you just let me know, okay?”

  “Thank you,” she whispered as a huge boulder of guilt slid off her shoulders. She’d been feeling so foolish for not escaping that it had weighed heavily on her mind.

  “Hello, Dove,” the sheriff said with a friendly smile. He took Allis’ hand in his and squeezed. “My name is Givon. I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances. Can you tell me your full name and where you’re from?”

  “Dove Elizabeth Aldrin,” she replied. “I’m twenty-one and from Cheyenne, but I’ve been living in Durango for the past couple of months.”

  “Okay. Why Durango?”

  “It’s where I ended up,” she said with a shrug. “I got a job at one of the truck stops.”

  “Can you tell me what happened the night you were abducted?”

  “I was walking home from work one night and someone hit me over the head. I woke up in that place—that dark cave. He’d tied my hands together.” The memories rushed at her. “He left me a jar of peanut butter and a box of crackers. And there was a trickle of water along the ground. I didn’t want to drink it, but I had nothing else.”

  The memories catapulted her back into that dank, dark hole, and all she wanted to do was forget. In fact, she wanted to forget the past six months of her life. Go back in time and prevent her father from leaving her, stop him from going on the m
ission that had ended his life. She wanted to be that happy, secure woman she’d once been, not this fearful, lost person that even she didn’t recognize. Dove hadn’t even realized she was crying until Draven closed his arms around her. She buried her face in his chest and sobbed.

  Several minutes went by until finally, she heard Cade trying to talk to her, ordering her to calm down, telling her she was making herself sick. It took her a moment to drag in several deep gulps of air as she tried to cease her crying.

  When she’d composed herself, she opened her eyes. The other people had left, leaving her alone with Cade and Draven. They stared at her with something akin to horror, and she suddenly felt ashamed for losing it. She’d always been a little too sensitive, and the past few months had just pushed her over the top.

  “I’m sorry.” She gripped Cade’s hand tightly. “Please don’t leave me.”

  He shot a confused look at Draven.

  “Sweetheart—”

  “My father died not long ago, and I’ve… I’m… Everything is just a mess right now,” she interrupted, hoping to hold off Draven’s ‘it’s been nice knowing you’ speech. “Please. I promise I won’t cry anymore. Please just stay with me.”

  Draven sat on the edge of the bed holding her. She felt his hard muscles under his T-shirt, and the strength rippling through them made her feel safe. Cherished.

  “I’m not leaving you, Dove.”

  “We’re not leaving you,” Cade corrected, sitting on the other side of her. “Do you have any other family we can contact?”

  Dove shook her head. Her family had been a group of mercenary soldiers that had given their lives to save strangers somewhere in the Middle East.

  “Well, you have me now,” Draven told her.

  “How is it you keep managing to forget the word us?” Cade demanded.

  Draven glared back.

  Dove couldn’t help the small giggle. It was like watching a funny pissing match between them. Draven sighed and glanced at her with one eyebrow raised.