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His smile was sad. “I paid your aunt and uncle a visit with one of the brothers. You won’t have any more trouble from them.”
My heart kickstarted painfully and my alarm must have been obvious.
“They’re okay - alive and breathing.”
I nodded, not sure I wanted to know any more than that. Another thought struck me. “Come with me! We have enough money to disappear. We can be together, raise our baby together.”
He leaned forward and captured my lips with his. His kiss was soft and tender. It felt like a goodbye.
“Becca, I knew the stakes when I took this patch. We all know what we are signing up for. That hasn’t changed. It won’t ever change for me.”
Tears choked my words and streamed down my cheeks.
“Go and raise our baby and live the life you were meant to. I’ll always know where to find you but don’t ever come looking for me. And never tell our child who I am.”
He kissed my forehead and I clung to his arms as he rose. He gently pulled his arms free, and walked away. Taking my heart with him.
Could the devil be her salvation?
Abby Sloane is strong, independent and in control of her own destiny. Raised by her single mother on the idyllic North Coast of NSW, in a community that she loves like family, despite their expectation that she hurry up and marry her long-term boyfriend. Abby doesn’t mourn the absence of a father she’s never known.
Zep is the President of outlaw motorcycle gang, The Devils MC. He lives, and would die, for his brothers. Zep’s world is violent and dangerous - which is why he sent the love of his life far away when she fell pregnant with his child.
Nearly thirty years later, a gang war is set to ignite and Zep’s secret family becomes the target for his enemy’s retribution.
Content warning:Where Angels Hide contains adult themes and scenes which may cause trigger reactions for some readers including, but not limited to murder, violence and cancer.
Chapter 1
Outskirts of Broulee, South Coast of New South Wales, Australia
Zep eyedthe older man sitting across from him in the kitchen of The Devils MC makeshift headquarters. It was an older house, built in the seventies, but the interiors had undergone some renovations ten years ago, making it comfortable enough. They were making do with this beachside property while their clubhouse, which had been burned to the ground by an undercover cop, was being rebuilt in Sydney. With his thinning grey hair slicked back across his scalp and elongated jowls, Peter Isobel looked every day of his seventy-three years, and then some. The head of the Isobel crime family had been out of prison for almost a year after a twelve-year stint, and he was pissed.
“Again, you have my deepest sympathies for the passing of John and his family—” Zep began.
“Fuck your sympathy. My son was murdered, along with his wife and my grandson. And that’s on you.” Isobel pointed his tobacco-stained finger in the face of The Devils MC president.
Zep swallowed his frustration, smoothing his thumb and forefinger over his handlebar moustache. “Peter, you weren’t so concerned with John’s death a year ago.”
“He wasn’t dead though, was he?”
“You didn’t know that,” he countered, tired of the old man’s bullshit. His youngest son, John Isobel, had faked his own death with the help of The Devils’ enforcer, Alex “Hollywood” Riley, in order to escape the criminal underworld and start a new, secret, life with his pregnant wife overseas.
Isobel leaned back in his chair and chuckled, folding his hands over his well-padded, blue tracksuit-clad belly. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Of course I knew your boy Hollywood let him go.”
Zep snorted and rolled his eyes at Connor, who was watching on from the side of the room. Hollywood had fooled everyone, right up until the moment he disappeared on a plane headed for London—and Sarah Darcy. Why Isobel thought he knew things no one else had was beyond Zep.
“Oh, you don’t believe me?” Isobel’s lip curled menacingly. “Hollywood’s still alive, isn’t he?”
In the corner, Connor shifted on his feet. Zep shook his head. He should’ve known something was up when John’s older brother, Brian, hadn’t raised a fuss when he’d reached out to him before ordering the hit.
“Stella’s beside herself,” Isobel continued, referring to his wife. “Your thug executed her baby and her grand baby.”
Zep felt an internal shudder of disgust. There’d been no need to kill Alison and the baby.
“Jesse’s dead, your vengeance has been served,” said Zep of the enforcer he’d sent after Alex Riley, who had then taken it upon himself to kill John Isobel and his family.
“No,” said Isobel, leaning his elbows onto the table. “You don’t seem to understand. This is my blood, my family. It’s more than business, more than a casualty of war.”
