There was no bluffing or blustering with Aloiki. He was unapologetic, and did not give a flying fuck on a pig’s behind what anyone thought of him. There was absolutely nothing gentle about Aloiki—except with her.
Aloiki would do anything for or give anything to Lu, so long as it didn’t harm her. It was why we were here, why we’d spent months searching dead-end trail after dead-end trail, why the sharks surrounding our island were likely growing a taste for Bloody Scorpion meat, why we’d traveled to Amsterdam and Russia when most of us had never been to the Mainland, let aloneanother country, before. Because Nishi, Lu’s best friend since childhood, had been kidnapped and sold.
Aloiki vowed to find her, and bring her home to Lu. Knowing what I did about the flesh trade, I worried that Aloiki would not be able to keep that promise. The odds were not in our favor, but we had not given up. We’d followed the smallest leads. And now we were so close to finding her. It didn’t matter that none of us had ever been away from home this long. We were not returning without Nishi.
We owed it to her, and to Lu. She was Aloiki’s ‘ohana, his family. As Kalea had once been mine.
Fuck. That thought had no place in my head, especially not as we were meeting Hurricane, the President of the Royal Bastards Yonkers Chapter. He was leaving us a guide, one of his members with three tight braids down the center of his scalp and a pointed beard. After the Prez said something to Aloiki about expecting the returned favor if he was ever in Hawai‘i, he took off on his bike with the third man, who hadn’t said a word nor had we gotten an introduction.
Thehaoleheld his hand out to Aloiki. “Reacher. Your Tech’s been in touch with me. He gave me?—”
“They,” we all six corrected.
Reacher’s eyebrows went up. “Pardon?”
“They,” Aloiki repeated. “Neo is non-binary.” After Aloiki had misgendered the four foot-nine thief and computer guru six years ago, Neo had stolen Aloiki’s life savings. It had been a rough time, since Aloiki and Lu were just starting to grow the porn business they’d created together. Neo would never touch Lu’s money, and only had the balls to fuck with Aloiki because it had been a cyber transaction. I’d laughed my ass off when I found Aloiki eating saimin, or ramen, which hehatedwith a passion.
Even before Neo joined our new chapter of the Royal Bastards, Aloiki was very protective of them. He might be anasshole, but he was fucking loyal. I had to give him props for that, and had since we were kids.
I was his VP, but I was not in his shadow. What was the saying about the bull in a China shop? That was Aloiki. He was bold, brash, and broke a fuck ton of shit before the job was done. Andeveryoneknew he had been there.
Me? I was more like the ‘lo, a Hawai‘ian hawk who used stealth to ambush their prey. My enemies did not see me coming until it was far too late.
There was nothing wrong with Aloiki’s way of doing things, and yes, if I had to choose, I was the saner of the two of us. That was why Aloiki chose me to be his VP. He needed me to keep him in line, to remind him that sometimes there was a quieter way of doing things. Before two months ago, there had never been a hierarchy between the two of us. We’d each taken the lead depending on when or what situation we were in. It didn’t bother me that Aloiki was the President, but it was something I had to get used to. There’d already been a few slipups on my part, and there was no way in fuck I was ever calling him ‘Paniolo’.
Upon joining, members could choose their road names. A paniolo was a Hawai‘ian cowboy, and the nickname Elrik Jameson had bestowed upon Aloiki years ago when they’d first met. Personally, I did not need a road name. I couldn’t even think of one when we’d been announcing them, so I was just “Tangaloa”.
With us, we had Tommy, Spirit, and the twins. Virgil Argyle was our Enforcer, and former SAS with the British military. A tommy was a nickname for a soldier, so I supposed that made sense for him. Like manyKanaka Maoli, Kanoa Mana was extremely spiritual and lived in balance with nature. While I understood why he’d chosen “Spirit” as his road name, I did not think it was very original.
The twins were an entirely different story. We didn’t know much about their background, other than they were extremelylethal and very co-dependent on each other. I’d heard of twins finishing each other’s sentences, but these two took it to an extreme. They often spoke the exact samefullsentence or sentences in perfect synchrony like they were memorizing lines in a play. It was creepy as fuck.
They were young, around twenty-one. Aloiki had originally hired them at his barn two years back to be farmhands, but they also quickly joined the porn business when it was obvious they were into that sort of thing. And the subscribers ate that shit up. They never took it too far, crossing that incest line, but like everything else with them, they had sex together too. Normally it was them with an actress, though they also participated in gang bang, free use, and glory hole shoots.
Their legal names were Sawyer and Harlan, but we called them Thing One and Thing Two. Which was which, no one knew. Half the time they both wore cuts that said they were both Thing One. I swear it was like some twisted magic trick, and there was no doubt in anyone’s minds that the sick fuckers got a kick out of messing with us.
I’d seen them fight on numerous occasions. I was no slouch, but holy fucking shitballs. They weren’t just lethal; they were cruel. Their light brown hair and pale skin hinted at a heritage other than Polynesian, but I’d never asked them. I wasn’t sure if they even knew. Something had clearly happened to both of them, and my guess was childhood trauma. I wondered if anyone else noticed on this trip that while they curled up to sleep next to each other, one was always awake, as if to keep watch, while the other slept.
“Uh, right.” Reacher cleared his throat. “Sorry.Theygave me the information on your guy. Sorry to say, he seems like your typical Wall Street guy.”
My blood boiled. Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV was our target, the fucker who had bought Nishi from an honest-to-God dealer,like she was nothing more than aMazda. The dealer, Konstantin, was dead now. A thousand fishing hooks through his flesh with weights attached had dragged him down to the bottom of the sea. But even that seemed like too quick of a death.
I hoped the death of Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV lasted a hell of a lot longer and was a lot more painful. I didn’t know what condition we would find Nishi in, but the chances that she was in good health, mentally and physically, were slim to none.
“How far is he from here?” Aloiki asked Reacher, his voice sounding as impatient as I felt.
“’bout a half hour. If his pattern holds, he’ll be leaving for work any minute. His house will be empty for us to get in and get your girl without a fuss.”
Aloiki took the passenger seat, while the rest of us clambered into the back of the SUV. Stupid fucking hierarchy. I was the tallest man here and certainly had longer legs than Aloiki, but as my ex-brother-in-law liked to remind me, he had the bigger dick. I must have been more tired than I realized, because I wanted to roll my eyes at that claim. I’d seen his dick on numerous occasions. No matter what he said, my legs were still longer.
Reacher joined us.Personally, I didn’t like having a stranger at my back, but I understood Aloiki’s decision to allow it. We were short on time, and there was the matter of offending Hurricane, whohadoffered us aid, if he didn’t let Reacher tag along.
My phone alerted me to a message as Spirit slipped into the four-car garage. Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV’s estate was massive. Similar to Bacon, our SAA’s, place in size, yet somehow a lot more pretentious. Even if the guy wasn’t a rapist and human trafficker, Icould tell I wouldn’t like him just by the uptight way his manicured lawn looked.
I showed Aloiki the message from Neo, which said that satellite imagery showed no one was in the house. This pissed Aloiki off, and he raised his middle finger to the satellite.
“Nishi is here,” he told just me quietly. “I can feel it in my bones. We just have to find her.”
The research Neo had done prior to us landing in Yonkers said that Weatherby Dalton-Jones IV was married. However, we had no idea if the wife was aware of her husband’s depravities or not. Aloiki said he would make the decision as to what to do with the wife once we figured out if she was just a gold digger or a willing partner.