Chapter 12 #2
“Some, but everyone went by their nickname. Even me. They called me Goldilocks.” Repeating it made me grimace.
“Their president at least went by his real name, I think. Tucker. He wasn’t around much during the parties, but I saw him occasionally.
He was always surrounded by the same group of guys.
They were different than the partiers. They gave off this energy. ”
“What kind of energy?”
The terrifying kind. “Everyone watched them. When they walked into a room, everyone, even the scariest assholes in the room, held their breath.” The first time I’d seen Tucker had been at a party.
He’d come through the clubhouse doors and it was like the party was put on mute.
The music still blared. The air was still sweaty and thick.
But all eyes went to Tucker as he strode through the room and disappeared down a long hallway.
“Tucker Talbot.” Luke rubbed his jaw. “He’s one serious motherfucker.”
“Do you know him?”
“I know of him. But that’s another discussion. You were going to call Presley.”
I nodded, my hands shifting to grip the edge of my seat.
“I have the same phone I had in high school. Jeremiah bought it for me. He got one for Presley too. We hid them from my parents because Dad didn’t want us to have phones.
I kept it all these years. Presley would text me on occasion.
I never texted back, but I had her number.
I knew that if Jeremiah found out, he’d stop me from leaving, so I wanted to be far away from his room in case he woke up.
I wandered down this hallway and into the basement. ”
I’d chosen the basement because I’d been trying to escape the stench. The hallway had reeked of alcohol and sweat. But the basement had been cold. Sterile.
“I was quiet. I didn’t want to accidentally wake up one of the guys who’d forget I was Jeremiah’s. I thought the basement was empty, but then I heard a noise. It was the same kind I’d heard at home for years.”
The sound of flesh pummeling flesh. Of bones being broken.
“I snuck close, curious. Dumb. And through the crack of the door, I saw Tucker and three other Warriors standing around a man they’d tied to a chair.
The guy was beaten and bleeding out of his eyes and ears and nose and mouth.
I don’t know why I did it, but I watched.
I watched as the three men took turns hitting him until finally Tucker told them to stop. ”
Luke closed his eyes, shaking his head. “Did they see you?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded. “They didn’t see me. I was barefoot and backed away. But . . .”
“But what?”
“I recorded it on my phone.” I gulped. “I videoed the entire thing.”
Luke flinched. “Fuck.”
Pretty much. “Tucker started talking to his men. The guy in the chair wasn’t dead, just unconscious. Tucker said they needed to make it look like a suicide. Like Draven Slater. I didn’t know who Draven was, but I didn’t stick around to find out.”
Luke’s face was stone, his grip on the oars impossibly tight. “Who knows about the recording?”
“You.”
Luke nodded and looked past me to the river. He gave the raft a few strong rows, like he was forcing his anger into the water.
“Who’s Draven Slater?” I asked. “Was he related to Dash?”
“His father. He used to own the garage and for all intents and purposes, he was like a father to Presley too. A good father.”
My stomach plummeted. “And he died. Tucker killed him.” This was just getting worse.
“Apparently,” Luke muttered, shaking his head. “I don’t know if Dash knows. If he doesn’t, this could mean a war between the Tin Kings and the Arrowhead Warriors.”
“But I thought the Tin Kings weren’t a club anymore. What about Presley? Would she be in danger?”
“I don’t know.” He sighed. “I don’t fucking know. Who was the man in the chair? Did you recognize him?”
I shook my head. “I’d never seen him before. He was older, maybe in his forties or fifties. But with all the blood, it was hard to tell.”
“Do you still have the video?”
I nodded and stretched for my dry bag. In the months I’d spent with Luke, I’d kept my phone close, hidden in the dresser in my bedroom. And I’d brought it along on the trip, not wanting it out of my reach. I dug it out of my bag and turned it on. Then I pulled up the video and handed it to Luke.
The noise from the device brought me back to that place. To the cold concrete. The shivers on my arms and the fear snaking its way through my veins. I shifted sideways, facing the river and focusing on the splash of the raft with its ripples. I studied the cliffs and their serenity.
It’s just a nightmare. And here, on the river with Luke, I was safe.
I’m safe.
Luke cleared his throat when the video ended and I turned to face him. He handed me the phone and I stowed it away.
“What do you want to do with that?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Throw that phone in the river and pretend it never happened. Run and never look back. But I’m worried they’ll come after Presley. And right now, that video is the only thing I have to use against them if they do.”
“If the FBI knew you had that, they’d make you testify.”
“Should I?”
Luke stayed quiet for a long moment, staring off to the shoreline. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”
“How screwed am I?”
He turned and gave me a sad smile but didn’t answer.
Not that he needed to.
His silence was answer enough.