Chapter 38 Victor #2
It’s as run down inside as it is outside, and I make a face when my shoes stick to the floor as soon as we walk in. The tables look like they haven’t been thoroughly cleaned in months, if ever, and the people lounging at tables or clustered around the pool table in the back don’t look much better.
I position myself so I’m not touching anything, mentally cataloging all the ways I would disinfect this place if I could, just to recenter myself a bit.
Willow, Ransom, and I hang back, letting Malice take point. In normal conversations, he’s not the best with people, but he knows how to converse with shady types to get what he wants. He gives off an aura that makes it clear he’s not fucking around, which is useful in these types of situations.
We watch as he walks up to the bar, leaning against it casually. He orders a drink and strikes up a conversation with the bartender, a short woman covered in tattoos herself.
She eyes him with a hungry look, and I feel Willow bristle a little at my side. Ransom laughs and runs a placating hand down her arm.
“It’s just business,” he murmurs. “He isn’t interested in her. Trust me.”
Willow nods, although she’s still glaring daggers at the woman. “Right. I know. Fuck, I’ve been hanging out with Malice too much. His jealousy is rubbing off on me.”
“Well, I don’t think he’d complain about that one bit.” Ransom wraps his arm around her, pulling her a little closer against his side. “You’re sexy as fuck when you get all possessive.”
After a few minutes, Malice slides the bartender a crisp bill and then comes back over to us.
“Got a lead,” he says. “She wouldn’t say anything specific, but there’s a guy who deals in ‘documents’ down the block a little way. She said we could drop her name if we have any trouble.”
“And what did you tell her?” I ask him. “About why you were asking?”
Malice shrugs. “The bare minimum. You know these types don’t ask that many questions. She probably didn’t give a shit one way or another, and it’s clear we’re not narcs.”
That’s true enough. I nod. “Alright. Let’s go.”
We turn toward the door, but before we can leave, it bursts open. Two cops come striding inside, walking with purpose.
They stop in the middle of the bar, glancing around quickly, and my entire body goes on high alert. Ransom sucks in a breath as Malice goes tense beside me. I clench my jaw, moving to stand in front of Willow, wanting to hide her from their view.
The police officers are both burly and tall, one of them nearly as big as Malice.
He’s got a short buzz cut and a thick neck, and the man beside him is slightly thinner, with a neatly trimmed beard.
After only a slight hesitation, they start moving again, making a beeline toward a table near the back where three guys who look to be in their early twenties are sitting.
“Jacob Beeler? You’re under arrest for possession of an illegal firearm, and for possession of a controlled substance with intent to distribute,” the cop with the beard says. “Get up.”
The man named Jacob stares up at the two police officers for a second, his face hard. He glances at his two companions, then rises slowly from his chair, anger flashing through his eyes.
“That’s fucking bullshit, man,” one of his friends spits out. “It wasn’t him.”
“Shut up,” the taller cop snaps, grabbing Jacob by the arm and pulling a pair of cuffs from his belt. He snaps them on with a metallic snick. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…”
The conversation in the bar has died out, and even the music is lower now, everyone hunkering down at their tables as they watch the arrest take place.
The bearded cop is standing off to the side a little, and as his partner reads Jacob his rights, he scans the bar again—but this time, his gaze doesn’t skip over us. He pauses as he looks toward our little group, his brows drawing together a little.
Malice nudges me subtly with his elbow, and I glance sideways at him. He tips his head toward the front of the bar and then looks at Ransom, who nods slightly, picking up the silent thought that echoes between all of us.
We need to get the fuck out of here. Now.
Ransom starts moving first, walking casually toward the door. I push Willow to follow, and then I start moving myself, with Malice close behind me. Although I don’t look his way, I can feel the bearded cop’s gaze tracking us.
“Wait a second,” he calls suddenly. “Stop.”
He steps forward into Malice’s path, cutting him off. Malice stiffens, glancing at me over the cops shoulder.
“I know you.” The bearded police officer steps closer to Malice, his hand moving toward his service belt. “There’s a warrant out for your arrest.”
I inhale sharply. Fuck.
If this was about the diner, or the convenience store we robbed, then it would be either me or all three of us being questioned right now. But Malice is the only one the cop recognized, which means this has to be Olivia’s doing.
Apparently, she hasn’t reported all of us to the authorities for the illegal things we did for X yet.
She’s probably saving that as her trump card, especially since she’ll have to be careful not to implicate herself as well if she goes that route.
But whatever strings her dead husband pulled to get Malice out of prison early, she’s clearly gone back on that deal.
And now there’s a warrant out for his arrest.