Isaiah
“Hey, guys,” Dash called into the garage from the office doorway. “Take a break. We gotta talk.”
I grabbed a rag to wipe my hands. There was some grease that would only come off with Fast Orange, but since Leo and Emmett didn’t bother stopping at the sink to wash, I didn’t either.
Dash was sitting in the chair across from Presley’s desk.
Her seat was empty and her car wasn’t out front.
Dash had probably sent her to the bank or post office before calling us in.
He’d stopped sheltering us from these conversations—we were long past pretending Presley and I weren’t at risk or that we didn’t know something bad was going on.
Though at times, he kept Presley on the fringe unless she was in danger.
Dash’s elbows were balanced on his knees. In the chair next to him, Bryce had her arms crossed and her jaw was locked tight.
“What’s up?” Emmett asked, taking one of the chairs along the window.
Leo stayed standing. So did I, taking up the space next to him to lean against the wall.
“Dad called ten minutes ago,” Dash said. “Prosecution’s done presenting their case.”
“Already?” Leo asked.
“Yeah.” Dash sighed. “They wrapped up faster than Jim had hoped. Now it’s his turn to present.”
Shit. Did Genevieve know? She had to know. She just hadn’t texted me.
It had been two and a half weeks since we’d gone to Lark Cove for Thanksgiving, and in that time, we’d hardly spoken a word, though she’d been a constant worry on my mind.
I had to find a way to set her free.
God, I would miss her, but this marriage, this fake marriage, was killing us both.
We were as cold to one another as the mid-December air. The quiet, I could live with. That wasn’t hard for me to endure.
Except every now and then, I’d catch her staring at me. Watching. When I’d meet her gaze, hers would be full of pity.
I fucking hated pity.
Those pitiful glances had started after Thanksgiving. If I had to guess, Mom or Piper had said too much. Had they told her about the accident? Had they told her about Shannon?
As pissed as I was that they’d talk to Genevieve about family business, I couldn’t exactly blame them. No doubt they thought she already knew.
Bringing it up with Genevieve wasn’t an option. If they hadn’t told her, it would only lead to more questions. I was sick to death of the questions. Of the secrets. Of the lies.
Of the pity.
All the reasons we’d done this in the first place be damned. Living this way was eating me alive. And keeping her tied to a man like me wasn’t fair to Genevieve. She deserved more.
It was time to let her go. It was time to break this off. I’d deal with the consequences.
It was time to plan an exit strategy.
“What now?” Emmett asked.
“Nothing.” Bryce huffed. “We have nothing. No leads. No information to go on. Whoever kidnapped us has disappeared. Whoever Amina was dating, that Lee guy, he’s gone. And it pisses me off.”
Dash put his hand on her knee as it bounced. “We always knew this could happen.”
“That’s not good enough, Dash.” She stood from the chair and paced the room.
“What happens when this guy decides it’s your turn next?
Or Emmett’s? Or Leo’s? We’re helpless. He’s out there, watching as his master plan unfolds.
Draven will go to prison. And the rest of us will look over our shoulders for the rest of our lives. We can’t live like that.”
Her chin quivered, her arms cinching tighter around her ribs. Dash was out of his chair in a flash, pulling her into his arms as her forehead dropped to his shoulder.
“She’s right.” Leo blew out a deep breath. “Draven goes to prison and this guy wins. And if this really is about some old war with the Kings, we’re all next.”
Even I wasn’t safe. I’d never been a Tin King, but I’d been on that mountain too. “What can we do?”
“We’ve tried everything. Every damn thing.” Emmett ran a hand over his hair.
“I think we need to push harder to find Amina’s boyfriend.” Bryce stepped away from Dash, sniffling. She wasn’t a crier so seeing her like this was odd. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but she was cracking.
“The boyfriend’s a ghost,” Emmett said. “A dead end.”
“But he’s all there is,” Bryce insisted. “He’s the only person in Amina’s life we haven’t tracked down. And doesn’t that seem suspicious? She’d been seeing this guy and she dies, then he just disappears?”
“Maybe they broke up before she died.” Amina had hooked up with Draven in that motel. For Genevieve’s sake, I hoped Amina hadn’t cheated. Again. “That would explain why he never showed up. Maybe she’d already called it off, so she was free to hook up with Draven.”
Bryce nodded. “Maybe. But we won’t know anything until we find him.”
“How, babe?” Dash plopped back down in his chair. “All we have is a first name. Lee is not exactly unique.”
“And Genevieve has racked her brain,” I said. “She can’t think of anything else.”
“What about Amina’s things?” Bryce asked. “Did Genevieve find anything in them that might have been Lee’s?”
“No. Nothing.”
“Damn it,” she muttered.
A car door slammed outside, drawing our attention. Genevieve stomped from her car to the stairs. The look on her face was blank, her eyes turned down to the shoveled cement.
“Be right back.” I hurried to the door, just in time to stop Genevieve before she’d gotten past the fifth step. “Hey. You didn’t text me to come get you.”
“No, I didn’t,” she snapped. “For once, I wanted to drive myself home.”
“You heard about the trial.”
“Yep.”
“What did Jim say?”
She sighed. “The prosecution has a strong argument and things aren’t looking good.
They had three officers present. The witness who saw Draven come and leave from the motel.
A fingerprint expert for the knife. A crime lab tech for the DNA and blood.
It’s done, so I decided to take the rest of the day off. ”
“You okay?”
“Fantastic,” she deadpanned. “Draven will go to prison for murdering my mother. Life’s grand.”
“We’re just talking about it.” I tossed my thumb over my shoulder to the office. “Come on in.”
“No, thanks.”
“Please? You’re not the only one who’s upset.”
“Fine.” She grumbled something else under her breath before sulking down the stairs. She gave me that goddamn pitiful look as I opened the door for her, waving her in and out of the cold.
“I’m sorry, Genevieve.” Bryce stood to give her friend a hug.
“Me too.” Genevieve unwrapped the scarf around her neck and took a chair next to Emmett.
“We were just talking about what we could do,” I told her as I sat by her side in the last open chair.
“Nothing.” She shook her head, digging in her purse for her notebook. “There’s nothing to do. I’ve been over and over things. I’ve researched every single person who could have been involved and there’s nothing to find.”
“You’ve been what?” Dash asked, sharing a look with Bryce.
“Researching.” Genevieve waved the notebook. “Criminal records. Background checks. Personal information. I’ve looked into all the known associates of the Tin King Motorcycle Club, you included, and whoever I could find linked to the Warriors.”
The room went silent.
I blinked, my eyes glued to that notebook. Was my name in there? Was that how she knew about me? Had she known all along?
My pulse raced with a mixture of fear and anger that she’d kept this from me. When had she been doing this?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bryce asked.
“Because.” Her shoulders fell. “There’s nothing, so what does it matter?”
Emmett held out his hand. “Mind if I take a look?”
She clung to her notebook for a second, then sighed and handed it over.
He flipped through the pages quickly, nodding as he went. “I’m impressed. You’ve got nearly everyone in here. Us included.”
Genevieve took the notebook back and looked at Bryce. “Except you. And Isaiah.”
The air rushed from my lungs. So she hadn’t dug into my past. She’d respected my privacy even though she wanted to know so badly. She’d waited, giving me time, and hoping I’d open up.
Damn.
“You went behind our backs,” Dash said.
Genevieve held up her chin. “Yes, I did. Because I didn’t know you.”
Dash shot her a glare and opened his mouth, but Bryce spoke over him. “I think it was smart. I would have done the same thing. I just wish you had found something.”
“Me too,” Genevieve muttered.
“I still feel like your mom’s boyfriend might lead us to a clue.”
Genevieve nodded. “So do I. Mom was always so vague about him. She always brushed him off as casual, which would make sense if he was a Warrior. She wouldn’t want to pull me into that.”
And clearly Amina had a thing for bikers.
“Did you find any mention of a guy named Lee?” Emmett asked. “Because I’ve done my own research and can’t find a damn thing.”
“Nothing.” Genevieve ran her thumb along the notebook. “Maybe some of you can look through the names. None of the Warriors I found are named Lee, but maybe I missed someone.”
“I’ll do it.” Emmett nodded.
“When you went through her stuff, you didn’t see anything that might have been his, did you?” Bryce asked.
Genevieve shook her head. “Nothing jumped out at me. I could go through it all again. Just to double-check.”
“Do it,” Dash ordered, the frown still on his face. “What about her stuff? Was there anything missing?”
“I didn’t exactly take an inventory of my dead mother’s things.”
“Then do it now,” Dash barked.
I took a step forward, ready to step in, but Genevieve noticed and held out a hand, stopping me.
“Why?” she asked Dash.
“Because maybe he took something of hers. Jewelry or a trinket, or I don’t know. Something valuable. If he pawned it in town or even in Bozeman, we might be able to track it down.”
“Oh,” she muttered. “Okay.”
“Any word from the Warriors?” Leo asked.
“Not a word,” Dash answered. “Which normally would be a good thing, but my gut says we’ll be hearing from Tucker before too long.”
“You don’t think he believed us?” Genevieve asked.