Chapter Thirty-Eight
Present - Ryder
WITH EVIE BURIED deep in her hole, planning what is sure to be the largest event of her career and a kick in the balls to the entitled assholes who’ve treated her like crap, I often find her still working when I get back from a shift at the bar.
I’ve been using the time wisely, gathering any information I can on Stefan and being an official part of Immoral Support . With band rehearsals throughout the week and my shifts remaining on the weekends, it’s been surprisingly easy to balance the two, allowing me to continue the tap dance of learning more without exposing myself.
Immoral Support took its first huge step earlier this week, and part of me is still riding that high. I enlisted Lou’s help to make sure Evie slept and ate while I flew up to Tennessee with Connor and the rest of the band for three days. I would’ve loved for Evie to come with us, but with her event coming up, she wouldn’t budge on taking a few days off during the work week. And for obvious reasons, a weekend getaway that took away from my shifts would have garnered me more attention than I can afford right now.
Tennessee was surreal, hearing our voices in a studio, working with Blondie and his boy JD. Seeing those guys together after so many years of sharing music and life together, it felt like something Connor and I could look forward to. It’s wild to think that something that started on a hard sidewalk, neither of us having anywhere to go, has blossomed into this. For a few days I could pretend that was all my life was, music and FaceTimes with the girl I love.
Aside from the music, Tennessee was beautiful, mountains and trees everywhere, total serenity. It was a much-needed escape from the constant worry and adrenaline that’s been flowing through my veins since Agent Lincoln Blackhall enlisted my help.
You’ve never had a neck ache like the one you get from constantly looking over your shoulder, afraid of who you’ll find lurking there. I’d been getting frustrated, weeks having passed since the last time I managed to gather anything consequential. All the risk with no reward.
Stefan tightened up significantly after the last piece of information I successfully fed to Lincoln. He’s been pushing me for more, but I don’t have anything, and if I pass the push on to Stefan or his men, a medical examiner will be pushing my body into a metal locker.
So, I wait. Patiently. Surreptitiously.
And then as if the guardian angel for troubled characters has finally taken pity on me, one of Stefan’s men walks out of the lounge grumbling, the one I’m pretty sure is named Bernard. He’s visibly agitated, carrying a chip the size of a boulder on his shoulder.
Glancing around, I assure myself that the rest of the bar is empty, a ghost town until a few more hours from now. “Bernard?”
“What?” he spits.
“You look like you could use a drink.” Lifting a whiskey bottle, I pour myself a knuckle, leaving the glass next to it empty in invitation. “Nobody else is around.”
As the whiskey burns its way down my throat and into my stomach, I realize how long it’s been since my last drink. Quitting wasn’t intentional, but I can’t remember the last time I’d wanted to feel numb—at least since Evie’s been back in my life.
Bernard swears before coming to take a seat at the bar. “Don’t fucking tell anyone.”
“Why would I put myself in the line of fire?” My heart picks up, the question coming off as two guys shooting the shit at their miserable job. I knock back the rest, giving him something simple to hold over my head, allowing him to feel safe in breaking the rules by my side. “Tough day at work?”
“Stefan has had a fucking pole stuck so far up his asshole ever since the feds stumbled across that boat.” Bernard shakes his head. “He’s obsessed with there being a rat among us, even though we’ve looked into everyone and found fucking nothing.”
The guys think Stefan has gone mad. Part of me relaxes, knowing that they’ve either not looked in my direction, or that there’s nothing to find. “Has it not crossed his mind that they could have just…followed him there?”
“That’s what we’re all thinkin’, but unless we want a bullet in our skull, we keep our mouth shut and let him keep hunting for witches.”
I glance around before filling his glass with another knuckle and lean in. “Seems a little paranoid.”
“You have no idea. Getting him to the railroad today was…” Bernard trails off, shaking his head.
The railroad. What the fuck could be going down at a railroad? A lot, I realize, after a second of thought. It’d be easy with the right money and the right pressure to gain access to empty train cars. Railroads stretch all over America, carrying hazardous materials. It’d be the perfect fucking guise for distributing whatever he’s selling nationwide.
And Stefan’s at the railroad today . Right fucking now .
“Sounds like a nightmare,” I agree coolly. “Is that where everyone is right now?”
“The whole cavalry, while I’m left here to walk around like a fucking mall cop.”
“I’m glad you’re here to babysit me and the flies, brother.”
Bernard coughs a laugh, sliding his glass toward me again. “Right?”
“That’s some shit, man. Surely the feds are off his back now. They already got those girls I saw on the news. What more could they be looking for?”
“Fentanyl. It’s spreading through the country like wildfire, making Stefan a fortune. He’s got a monopoly on supply.” Bernard glances over his shoulder. “He’s the supplier who’s supplying the suppliers.”
Using the railroads.
“Must be nice to make billions while we all slave away for him.” I pour us one more and offer a toast. “To the rich, paranoid fuck who holds our leashes.”
Bernard laughs, clinking his glass with mine. “I better head outside and make sure the bouncer plans to do his job tonight. Then I might keep an eye on everything from the lounge.” With a wink, Bernard walks out taller than before, like he didn’t just spill one of Stefan’s most valuable fucking secrets.
Walking into the kitchen, I pull out the burner, this information being too important to wait until it’s safer. By then, whatever they’re doing at the railroad will have already been packed up for the day. Dialing the number I’ve learned by heart, I hear the line connect, nothing but silence on the other end.
“Hey, Mom, how are you?” I say to the quiet. “Yeah, yeah. Just about to start my shift. How’s the train ride been so far?”
Silence .
“That’s good to hear. Crazy that you can go all over the country these days on one of those things.” I fake a laugh, needing to make this sound as inconspicuous as possible if anyone is eavesdropping. “I know that you’re getting in at any moment now, and I’m sorry that I’ll miss your arrival. I’m at work, but everyone else will be there to pick you up.”
Silence .
“I gotta go, but I wanted to call you and make sure it all went smoothly.” My heart picks up speed, the first real information I’ve managed for Lincoln in far too long. “Safe travels. Love you too, Mom. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Click .
Message hopefully fucking received. It’ll probably be too late by the time Lincoln sorts through whatever red tape and hoops he has to jump through, but I’ve done my part. The rest is up to him.
Within a few hours, The Swan is in full swing, and I’m coaxing a girl in stilettos off the bar top, before she can start taking off her clothes. I pass her over to Terra when she starts to get grabby, and call the wasted girl a taxi.
But every time the door opens, my stomach drops, until time and time again it’s not Stefan walking through those doors. The hours go by, like any usual night, palm after palm tapping on the bar, drink after drink sliding over to their waiting hands, until an hour from closing, the lounge door opens and Bernard comes out, face purple.
His eyes go nowhere but mine, full of accusation and disbelief. Something went down, and it went down after he and I had a chat at the bar. Bernard has learned something valuable tonight: Stefan may not be so paranoid after all.
There is a rat in his house.
And now Bernard knows that it’s me.
Panic and fear like I’ve never known rolls over me, threatening to cloud my judgment and send me running for the door and onto my motorcycle, racing to Evie. Getting out of town would be anyone’s knee-jerk response, but if I’ve learned one thing throughout my life in the shadows, you never snitch on yourself. Running is an admission of guilt, and you never admit shit. Lie and lie until the bitter fucking end.
So I stand there, holding his eye contact, unaffected and cool. Sure, he could run and tell Stefan that I’m the rat. But where did I get the information? Bernard is perched on a double-edge sword, he can’t turn me in without exposing himself.
Even if Bernard killed me on the spot, there would be questions. Where did Ryder get the information? Stefan might shoot every last one of them for good measure, start anew. And sooner than later, Bernard would be as dead as I was.
A vein bulges across his forehead as he comes to the same conclusion.
I need to get smarter, smoother and quicker. This is now a game of tripwires.
Which one of us will get caught up first?
· · ·
My neck ache won’t be going away anytime soon.
Blackhall came through yesterday and the takedown was all over the news. Again. There’d already been an anonymous tip about something going down on the railroads, and when my information confirmed it, the FBI came down on Stefan and the entire operation like a ton of bricks.
With Bernard knowing the truth about me, I’ve been on even higher alert, finally setting up the Ring cameras I’d asked Evie to order from Amazon. Now, they’re hidden all over my loft and her apartment, ready to let me know if someone enters either one.
As I pull on my riding gloves, I glance inconspicuously around my street, checking for watching eyes. The good news is that Bernard seems to be keeping his mouth shut. If he had caved and said anything, I’d be dead already.
Someone would have forced their way into the loft or been waiting outside when I walked Evie to her car this morning. We haven’t talked about it, but it’s safe to assume that despite the danger, I won’t spend another night alone, whether it’s at her place or mine.
I do my best to avoid falling asleep these days, having a recurring nightmare of Evie being taken. It always starts with her walking out of her office building, and ends with me watching her die.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, finding a message that sends a shiver across my shoulders.
Stefan: You’re needed. Now.
I don’t bother answering his message. Instead, I text Evie.
Ryder: Something is up.
Evie: Okay.
We’ve already discussed what Evie is to do in this situation, if the worst should happen. She’s to go to a coffee shop that Blackhall and I picked, set in a popular market in Tampa. It’s very public, open twenty-four hours, and has entrances at the front and back. If Evie doesn’t hear from me, she’s to call Blackhall, who’s sworn to get her out of dodge.
As I enter the bar, I pray that it won’t come to that today.
My hope dies when I find everyone gathered in the bar. This isn’t good.
Aside from the scraps of what’s left of Stefan’s inner circle, every single fucking person is accounted for, even Terra and the bouncer. A lick of fear runs down my spine as I take up a spot next to Terra. “What’s going on?”
“I was hoping you’d know,” Terra whispers, putting her usual animosity aside. “Stefan’s called everyone in.”
“Anyone else know anything?”
Terra shakes her head.
The sense of doom keeps the rest of the bar quiet, as if Stefan is watching our every move, and stepping a millimeter out of place would be a death sentence. Thirty minutes goes by. An hour. He’s letting us stew, ensuring the levels of anticipation and fear have reached their maximum, when the front door is pushed open and Stefan walks in.
There’s something haunted about him, a slight dip in his shoulders that I’ve never seen, darkish blue smudges underneath his eyes, and a side he favors as he walks. With a snap of his fingers, he sends the inner circle to stand with the rest of us.
“Yesterday was an important day for me, meaning it was an important day for all of you. Even if you weren’t directly involved, your duty was to keep shit off my path.” Stefan’s hand flexes, the snake wrapped around his knuckles catching on the light before he moves as quick as an adder, retrieving his gun from his waistband. The entire room flinches, but he lets it rest at his side. “You can imagine my disappointment when shit found its way directly on my path. Again .”
A set of eyes lands on me from across the room, but I keep my gaze easy and trained on Stefan. With all the nervous glances bouncing around the room, exchanging with Bernard’s gaze may not go unnoticed.
“So. Nobody’s walking out of here until we discover who the rat is and their brains decorate my fucking floor.” Stefan shoots his new right-hand man in the head. “I already know he didn’t know shit.” Everyone tenses as the bouncer tries to run, but a bullet lodges in the back of his neck before he even reaches the door. “And that fucker is clearly too scared and too stupid to know anything.”
Glancing to my right, Terra’s hands begin to shake, undiluted horror running through her body as Stefan holds the gun up to the cook’s face. The man lifts his hands in supplication. “Sir. I swear…I don’t know anything.”
“I’ll give you a moment to think extra hard.”
“Sir, on my mother’s life–”
Bang.
“If you don’t know anything, it means certain death. You’re going to tell me anything you know about one another. No more camaraderie among men. Your loyalty belongs to me, and if you have none, then you’re dead. Understood?”
Wails let loose, many losing the handle they had on their fear. My heart takes off in my chest as I’m confronted with the moment I’ve feared, sooner than expected. Still, I keep my body language steady, unaffected.
Stefan walks up to the last standing member of his original inner circle. The man stares back at Stefan, stoically, saying nothing. And then his brains fly out the back of his head.
Others begin to beg Stefan to stop, claiming they have no information and swearing their loyalty on their knees. Some begin shouting information of all kinds, betraying the others in the room who called them their friend.
In the chaos, I risk a glance toward Bernard who has sweat pooling across his forehead. My fate relies wholly on him being smart enough to not rat himself out. Bernard meets my gaze, and I see it in his eyes, the moment he realizes that he’s dead whether he opens his mouth or keeps it shut. And if he’s going down, he’s taking me with him.
Part of me screams to use the little time I have left to text Evie not to wait, to call Blackhall now and get somewhere safe. But if Stefan happens to glance my way…it’ll be over. I can only hope that I’ve done enough to conceal Evie from their eyes so she can carry on with her event and the life she should have had before I walked into it again.
As Stefan comes face to face with Bernard, his head tilts to the side, as he takes in the beads of sweat that drip down his face. “Looks like you may have something to say.”
“Ryder is the rat.”
The chaos goes quiet, all heads turning toward me. Some faces sag with relief, others pull back in shock, but it’s the amusement and joy glittering in Stefan’s eyes that has my attention.
Even though my pulse accelerates to the point of overstrain, my lungs and veins screaming from the pressure of the blood pumping through, I quirk a brow and cross my arms, matching his amusement. “I don’t think this is a time for jokes, Bernard.”
“I’m not joking!” The perspiration pours down Bernard’s face, spittle flying as he fails to keep his composure. “Ryder is the rat! I’m telling the truth.”
Stefan watches on, tickled over the spectacle.
“Me?” I laugh, turning the question right back on him. “How would I have gotten whatever information someone spilled?”
Stefan’s eyes go right back to Bernard, pushing the barrel of the gun into his forehead. “How would he have gotten the information?”
Bernard trembles, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he realizes the trap he’s set for himself. There’s really no way out of it for him now. What a fucking idiot.
“Bernard’s trying to get rid of me.” I force a chuckle. “I’m a loose end, and he thinks he can use you as a pawn, get you to take care of me. I think Bernard was banking on you shooting first and asking questions later.”
Stefan pulls the gun away from Bernard and walks over to me, his footsteps echoing throughout the bar before he presses the barrel right into my forehead. “Bernard is right about one thing. I am ready to fucking shoot. So, be a good dog and speak. I want to know why he’d think you were a loose end.”
“I overheard Bernard on the phone yesterday. Thought nothing of it until he started trying to pin this shit on me. Made me wonder what I could possibly know that he wouldn’t want me to share.” Leaning into the barrel, my eyes are void of feeling as they bore into Stefan’s. “Around 3pm yesterday, Bernard made a phone call to his mom, talking about someone picking her up from a train station. It seemed too dull to note the specifics.”
Stefan’s eyes glitter with rage as he pulls the gun away from my forehead and walks back to Bernard, whose eyes widen to the size of a watermelon. “No, no, no. I swear, it’s not true. I never made a phone call yesterday.”
“If it wasn’t you, then let Stefan check your phone.”
“Gladly.” Bernard passes over his phone, unlocking it with his fingerprint. “I would never betray you, Master.”
“Check the call log,” I insist. “It was around 3pm.”
Stefan scrolls through the recent calls before he stops on an unsaved number. “What’s this?”
“I–I swear I have no idea,” Bernard stumbles. “I never made that call. I have no idea where that call came from. I didn’t call anyone.”
Bernard is letting the fear get to him, but he believes in his own innocence. He and I both know he didn’t call anyone around 3pm yesterday because that’s when he was drinking with me.
“This is your phone, right?”
“Yes, but–”
Stefan holds the gun up to Bernard’s lips, shushing him with the barrel as he taps the unsaved number, putting the phone on speaker.
“ Federal Bureau of Investigation. Please identify yourself. ”
Bernard’s eyes widen just before a bullet flies between them, blood splattering as it exits the back of his head with the kind of velocity you can only get from close range.
All it took was Lincoln calling in a favor to someone in the Bureau to get Bernard’s phone hacked––where we planted a phone call that never happened––to a fake number that we did a quick little recording for, banking on it being all Stefan would need to hear. But it will all be for nothing if he decides to cross-check the security footage.
“Now that that’s sorted, the bar stays closed tonight.” Stefan wipes away a trickle of blood with the barrel of his gun. “Clean this the fuck up.”
Stefan stalks back toward the secret door before turning and snapping at three men. “Congratulations, you’ve just been promoted. You are to kill for me and die for me. If you don’t, you’re dead anyway.”
“Yes, Master,” they say in unison.
Stefan turns toward me, basking in the glow that killing brings. “I’m glad I don’t have to look for a new pet.”
I don’t mistake the warning for fondness.
As Stefan disappears through the door, I reach for my phone.
Ryder: I’m okay.
Evie: Thank God. When will you be home?
Ryder: Soon. Ish.
As the adrenaline plummets, Terra and several others begin to vomit, adding to the mess.
Reaching into my pocket, I pull out the cigarette I’ve been saving for when I really needed it. Tonight, I stared down the barrel of a gun and got a man killed.
Now feels like a pretty good time.
My hand trembles as I place the cigarette between my lips and walk toward the back door.
I can’t bring myself to feel guilty about Bernard. Better him than Evie. Better him than Immoral Support losing their singer, right as they’re getting started on the journey of a lifetime. Better him than Agent Lincoln Blackhall losing out on the information that could save the lives of innocents.
It was a close call tonight, too fucking close.
And although I’m walking out of here alive, I can’t help but feel the shadow of death lurking close behind.