Chapter 10
ten
The Salvation
It’s Friday afternoon when we pull into the seaside town where Walker Delacroix says his family has ties.
Nate got a blip on Mercy’s tracker a few days ago, so we’re all reassured.
Havoc Harbor manages to be quaint in just the way that draws tourists, though it’s nowhere near as popular as similar towns on Cape Cod and scattered along the East Coast.
“There’s an ice cream place,” Heath points out, leaning forward between the seats. “We could get some food there. Even Walker can eat ice cream.”
“I need real food,” Saint argues, looking at his phone. “There’s a seafood place up ahead. Four-point-six star average in the reviews.”
“Sounds good,” I say, easing past the little shopping center with the ice cream shop, where I catch a glimpse of pink hair as a girl leans out the window to hand a cone to someone waiting for their order.
I pull around the curve at the bottom of the slight hill, then along past a fish market, a small grocer, and a couple more local businesses before we reach the lone stoplight in town.
Walker sits up and rubs his eyes, then lets out a hiccup of pain when he makes contact with the swollen, purple skin. “Fuck,” he mutters. “I keep hoping I’ll wake up and this will be a nightmare.”
“You and me too, buddy,” Heath says.
“What now?” Walker asks, his tone bitter. “You going to murder me and dump my body in the ocean?”
“We can’t kill you yet,” Angel says. “We still need information. Then we can kill you.”
“No one’s killing him,” I say sharply, scowling at Angel. I think he’ll argue, but he only turns his face away.
“Why would I help when I have no guarantee you’ll let me go after I do?
” Walker asks as I shift to continue through the light when it turns green.
“I went along, trusting you because y’all had a priest with you, and despite all the rumors and evidence against priests, I figured hey, they can’t all be bad.
Nothing bad ever happened to me or my brother, and I was going to seminary school and I have no interest in any shady shit, so maybe there are good ones too.
I was going to be one of those. But you’re not, are you, Father? ”
I flinch, but I don’t answer. I’ve never been a good one. Not because I have any interest in children, but because I can’t even follow the Ten Commandments.
Thou shalt not kill.
“I didn’t know I was an actual hostage,” Walker goes on. “You led me to believe I was along to help you out, a little reluctantly at first, but as a kind of penance for the side of my family that’s into… The unsavory element, shall we say? Not as your fucking scapegoat.”
“You sure got a lot to say for a guy with two busted lips,” Angel says.
“Consider them my last words, in case your trigger-happy bird brain snaps for absolutely no reason and kills me this time,” Walker says. “And by the way, you owe me a fucking tea.”
“Your family is Disciples. Mine is Crossbones. That’s all the reason I need.”
“I am not a Disciple,” Walker says, then directs his attention back to me when I’ve parked the van in one of the few empty spaces in front of the seafood place.
“Hate to say it, but I expected better, Dante. If I’d known you were going to throw me to gang members, I wouldn’t have been so agreeable.
But hey, that’s not your fault, is it? You probably didn’t know.
I’m sure you didn’t sit in your church van and watch him bash my face in.
You’re a good guy, after all. The kind who lets a stray wander into his house and crash on his couch with no ulterior motives. ”
“If you’re suggesting I had this planned ahead of time when you asked to stay with me, I assure you, I didn’t,” I counter, turning to look at him over my shoulder. I have to fight not to show anything each time my gaze lands on his misshapen face. Angel really did beat him badly.
“Guess I’ll have to take your word on that,” Walker says.
“Just like I have to take it that you’ll let me go.
Too late now. That’s on my dumb ass for trusting someone outside my circle.
Guess I can’t even trust family anymore.
If that little shit Nate hadn’t thrown in a good word, I wouldn’t have done that.
That fucking traitor. I get out of this alive, he’s paying for it. ”
“We’re not going to kill you,” I assure him. “We need your help. If you can do that, we’ll let you go with no strings attached. You have my word.”
“Wait a minute,” Angel says. “What’s to keep that asshole from going to the cops? He’s got money, not to mention all the lawyers in his family. We kidnapped him and kicked his ass. You think he’s going to just forgive us out of the goodness of his heart?”
Forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who have sinned against us.
“I think he’s wise enough to know discretion will be expected,” I say. “Aren’t you?”
“Sure,” Walker says. “You let me go without another scratch on me, I’ll help you find your lost lamb. But then you owe me.”
“We don’t owe you shit,” Saint growls, sliding open the door and climbing out.
“Yeah,” Heath says. “You’re not exactly in a position to bargain.”
“Neither are you,” Walker says. “I have to trust a bunch of guys who’d rather see me dead. That’s a big risk to take. I was going to work with you all civil-like, the way Nate does, but you went and fucked that up.”
“What do you want?” I ask, getting to the point.
“I’m a reasonable guy,” he says. “I won’t ask for too much. I’m also a very rich man, so don’t insult me by offering me money.”
“So we owe you favors,” Saint says, glowering. “You’re just like Nate.”
“And to think, I would have done it for free,” Walker says, climbing from the van to join the others. “Too bad you couldn’t keep your feral hyena under control.”
“You’re really pushing it,” Angel growls, taking a menacing step toward Walker.
My chest is gripped with that sickening burst of anticipation and dread that rises each time the threat of violence is near.
I’ve spent years keeping it in check, but it never goes away.
It was pounded into my body one blow at a time as I was formed from clay, etched into my skin with chisel and whip.
Now it’s part of my very being, no matter how hard I hold onto control, how fervently I pray it away.
Walker is right. I am not good. I did watch Angel crack a bottle over his head, throw him to the ground. I can tell myself it all happened so quickly, I couldn’t have intervened.
But if I could have… Would I?
“Okay, I think if anyone’s a feral hyena, it’s me,” Heath says, stepping between the two taller men.
“At least that’s what I’ve always been told.
I prefer the title ‘Heathen,’ but whatever floats your boat, man.
I’m not fussy. And Angel is definitely not feral.
He’s more calculated, a hunter who stalks through the dark and then, bam!
Strikes before you see it. I’d say… An alligator. ”
“If we don’t get inside, I’m going to be eating one of you,” Saint says. “Let’s go.”
“I’d think y’all would be the least hungry, what with all the protein you’ve been slurping down in the back of the van,” Walker says.
To my surprise, Heath cackles with laughter instead of pouncing.
Before he can change his mind and eviscerate the outsider, I wrap an arm around Heath’s shoulders and one around Saint’s. “Good boys. Let’s get you inside and fed.”
I steer them to the building, which is more of a dive than I expected from Saint’s description.
The sign out front says The Lobster Shack, and a mylar board advertises lobster rolls, chowder, and fried clams. I usher the two boys in before me, keeping an eye on Walker and Angel, who bring up the rear.
Angel watches our captor like he might make a run for it at any moment, but Walker saunters in like all is forgiven.
“Wow,” blurts the hostess when she sees his face. “What happened to you?”
“Oh, this?” Walker asks, pointing to his bruises. “That’s nothing, babe. You should see the other guy.”
He winks at her, or at least I think he does. It’s hard to tell, since both his eyes are swollen shut except for the barest sliver allowing him to see through his puffy, purple lids.
She flinches, and he smiles, his fat lips stretching into something even more grotesque when one of them splits and a bead of blood bubbles up.
“Can you stop trying to flirt with everything you see?” Saint grumbles. “You’re scaring people.”
The hostess leads us to a table in the back corner where we’re relatively hidden.
The downside is that everyone in the place stares as we pass—and the place is packed.
We couldn’t be more indiscrete if we tried.
We slide into the corner booth at last, and everyone picks up a laminated menu while Walker plugs in a charger and connects his phone.
“This seems like a waste of time,” Angel says. “We need to be getting Mercy.”
“We will,” I assure him, checking my phone for confirmation for the boat I booked. “But we can’t think clearly on empty stomachs.”
“Yeah,” Heath says. “She’d want us to eat, to take care of ourselves. How else are we going to take care of her?”
“I want to warn you,” I say gently. “We have to be prepared for anything. For what we might find when we get there. What shape she’ll be in, what they could have subjected her to…”
“I’ll kill them,” Angel growls, his eyes darkening dangerously. “Every single one of them.”
My pulse skips again, the excitement thrumming to life at the suggestion of violence.
I push it away. Angel may lose control for Mercy, and Heath may lose it for everything, but I don’t have the luxury. I can never lose control. Not like I did before.
Honor thy father and thy mother.
The waitress arrives, looking harried and stressed out. When she sees Walker, her eyes widen, and I think she might faint. One thing is for certain. If we commit any crimes in this town, we won’t be hard for locals to remember.