Chapter 23 #2
He waits for something, an introduction, perhaps, but none is forthcoming. I couldn’t give two shits who this guy is or why he’s here. He’s interrupting our mission to find Bane, and that, to me, is unacceptable.
Kit steps forward and holds out his hand. “Hey, thanks for being so cool about this. I’m Kit. Nice to meet you.”
The man stares at the outstretched hand and then shakes his head. “No, thank you. I don’t shake hands, but nice to meet you all the same. I’m Fallow. Now, what are you doing here? Besides hiding bodies.”
I glance at Casey, who is shoving the body into a closet of some sort, wrestling the door shut.
“We are looking for a man who was taken just minutes ago,” I explain. “Have you seen anything suspicious?”
“Oh, all sorts. This place is disgusting. And I have very low standards, so that’s saying something. But funnily enough, I, too, am looking for someone who is missing. How fortuitous that we met in this place doing the same thing.”
“Who are you looking for?” Kit asks.
Casey steps up to our sides but stays silent, waiting for his answer.
“My sister. She used to work here, and now she’s missing.”
“Does your sister have a name?” Kit asks, and I eye him. He shouldn’t be asking useless questions.
“Yes, Ellery. Dark hair, a bit of shit, loud mouth, obnoxious, manipulative…”
“Ellery?” Kit asks, his eyes widening. “They’re literally back at the—”
“Don’t,” Jax says, nudging Kit. “We don’t know if he’s telling the truth. We could put them in danger.”
Fallow rolls his eyes. “Fuck off. I’m no danger to her. She’s my sister.”
“It’s they/them,” Kit supplies, and Fallow arches an eyebrow.
“For you, maybe. But I shared a womb with her, so I get to call her whatever I want. Plus, she always calls me worse, I promise. And I still tore half the country apart so I could rescue her. So, where the fuck have you hidden her?”
No one tells him.
“How about one of us calls and verifies your story?” Jax suggests. “And if they want to see you, then maybe we can tell you where they are.”
Fallow rolls his eyes. “Do you fucking believe this? This is fucking ridiculous. But fine. I’ll bite. Call her and tell her Fallow has been looking for her.”
“After we find Bane,” I growl. “We’ve wasted enough time.”
But I go ignored.
“How long have you been looking for Ellery?” Kit asks him, and I nearly growl, the energy changing in the space as he bristles. This has nothing to do with Bane. And right now, he’s the only one I care about.
“Years. Too fucking long. I tracked her here from Missouri, and the East Coast before that. And that led me here, to all this.” Fallow leans a little closer.
“Like I said, there’s a strip club right in the back.
Lots of shady business done in those locked, soundproof rooms. If they took your man, he might be there.
No one would see or hear him if he screamed. ”
That makes my chest constrict.
He better not be hurt.
“Fuck,” Kit murmurs, and I push forward, but not before Casey reaches out and stops me.
“We need a plan,” he says. “We don’t even know if we can trust him.”
I shrug him off. “Like the plan you had when you strangled the bartender and stuffed him in a closet? Right now, I trust no one but myself. Call Ellery, verify who this guy is so we can find Bane.”
When he says nothing, I continue pushing my way forward, my hand landing on the door Fallow came through.
“Where is this club?”
Fallow rubs his hands together, light in his eyes.
“Was just there. Follow me.”
As we move down the dim hallway, I hear Kit on the phone, verifying who Fallow is, and it seems he was telling the truth.
He just gives me a simple nod, and I know what that means. It means Ellery is his sibling. He was telling the truth.
“Fuck, why is the lighting so shit back here?” Kit asks.
“All the better to hide the shady stuff with,” Fallow says and then giggles. “Did you know that aardvarks have long, sticky tongues that can reach about twelve inches long? Do you know what someone could do with a tongue like that?”
“What the fuck does that have to do with finding Bane?” I grumble.
“Nothing. Just thought you’d like to know.”
We follow Fallow around a corner, and that’s when I see it. A door guarded by two men, just like the security out front. Fallow steps ahead and manages to get us in rather easily.
“See,” he says, looking smug. “No one had to die to get in. A win-win.”
Casey chuckles, but I’m not amused. I just let my eyes wander around the club we just emerged into. Low lights, just like in the hallway, and deep thumping music. A stage sits in front, featuring pole dancers, and a bar lines the back.
“Where are the rooms?” Kit yells, and Jax nudges him again.
For an assassin, he’s very indiscreet. He’s really not all that good, and yet, I still keep him around.
“Follow me,” Fallow says, the words drowned out by the music, so I only know what he said from the movement of his mouth. But it’s enough. We are getting closer. I can almost feel him here.
His distress, his discomfort.
But before we can make any headway, someone stops us—a scantily clad woman, her hair pulled up in a ponytail, her eyelids slightly hooded.
She says something to Casey, who bites his bottom lip and seamlessly flirts back. He apparently has nothing better to do, has all the time to waste. I, however, have none.
They took what’s mine.
My patience is dissipating quickly.
My blood pressure starts rising and my teeth grind together. I am not happy about the movement of this rescue mission. The only one who seems to understand my growing frustration is Kit, who is eyeing me warily. Everyone else is chatting happily.
But things could be derailed so quickly.
I need to find him. I need to know where he is. I need to touch him, to make sure he’s all right. To comfort him, to tell him I’m going to rip them all apart for hurting him, for causing him any kind of distress.
No more waiting. No more.
My patience evaporates.
I push forward, knocking into the woman flirting with Casey and causing her to stumble, but I don’t care. I just make my way toward the back of the club, to where the rooms should be.
Where he’s most likely tied up and being tortured, forced to relive what he suffered as a child.
I love you.
Blyat. I should have said it back, should have admitted it before he fell asleep, but I was afraid.
And now it may be too late to let him hear it.
That makes my vision go red, thinking of him crying, of him upset, hurting. Of not knowing how I truly feel. So when I arrive at that guarded door, I don’t even hesitate.
My hand whips out, holding the syringe I concealed in my pocket, and I stab it into the man in front of the door. My thumb plunges the poison into his system with ease, killing him instantly.
He never stood a chance.
He slumps to the floor with a muted gasp as I step over his seizing, foaming face and into the recesses of the club.
As I move forward, everything quiets.
No sound escapes those rooms. Fallow was right. They’re soundproof. All sorts of evils could happen in this space, and no one would know. No wonder they lie about the cameras.
I continue farther into the shadows, not sure where to go or what to do.
Then I feel someone come up behind me. I turn and see Kit, Jax, and Casey following. Fallow is there as well.
“Break them all down,” I growl. “Find him.”
They go to work without hesitation, kicking in doors, surprising the people within. I question them all, my fingers digging into necks, crushing windpipes, but no one gives me anything. No one knows any useful information.
And none of the people inside is Bane.
My hands itch, my eyes hazy from the fury building inside me.
I am going to murder them all.
My fingers flex at my sides, cracking as I open and shut them.
I’m going to rip them apart.
There will be nothing clean about this. Nothing sterile.
Casey kicks in the last door on the left, the only one we haven’t searched, and that’s when I see it.
Blood.
And as I move closer, my eye twitches, my hands landing on the chair situated in the middle of the room. I fling it against the wall with a roar.
Because on the ground lies the tracking device I put in Bane.