Chapter 8 – Whitney
WHITNEY
After Stevie and Hadley left, I picked up my sketchbook and headed outside to sit on the balcony and draw. I needed to get lost in a drawing so I could clear my head and hopefully think of a solution to the problem Glenn created.
Glenn. The bastard.
Within minutes, I had a rough sketch of Glenn’s body in a casket—without me. Leaning back, I studied the image and wondered if I should continue. It could be therapeutic, but it would also be evidence of a memory that shouldn’t exist.
Glenn fucked up everything. Sighing, I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees and stared at the wooden slats beneath my feet as my eyes welled with tears. I was exhausted and needed a few minutes of not thinking about Glenn.
I watched as one tear, then another, dripped onto the wood and started to count the wet spots.
Eight. Nine. Te—Holy shit! They found me.
I kept my eyes on the shadow creeping across the patio below me as I quietly stood. Moving back toward the open sliding glass door, I reached inside and grabbed Hadley’s shotgun. Then, I aimed it toward the top of the stairs.
My heart pounded against my chest as I waited for someone to appear.
When the stairs creaked, I held my breath and widened my stance. Dark hair appeared first, then familiar blue eyes met mine.
I waited until he reached the top of the stairs and racked the shotgun.
Ka-chk.
He kept his eyes on mine as he slowly raised his hands. “I just want to talk.”
“Keep your hands where I can see them,” I said.
He nodded.
I waited.
“Talk or leave.”
“Can you put the gun down?”
“No.”
“Right.” He cleared his throat. “Why were you in that casket?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. Unless you’re not Whitney Carlson and Glenn Warner isn’t your ex-boyfriend.”
For a split second, I considered pulling the trigger and running like hell, but I took a breath and reminded myself that I had a gun in my hands while his were in the air. I was still in control. “That depends. Are you Sawyer Stone Hart?”
I nearly laughed as his eyes widened in surprise.
“So, you do know things,” he said, seemingly to himself.
“Is that why you’re here?”
He stared at me for several moments. “Yeah. I need to know what you know.”
“Why?”
“That gun says you know why.”
“The only thing this gun says is go away.”
I wasn’t willing to answer his questions, not without reassurances he didn’t seem willing to give. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to shoot him, but I couldn’t let him leave, and I did not want him to stay.
He tilted his head back and audibly exhaled before looking directly at me. “I’m trying to help you.”
“Why?”
He snorted a laugh. “Fuck if I know.” He ran his hands through his hair, but quickly brought them back in front when I tightened my stance. “Sorry! Sorry,” he rushed out. “Listen, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Noted. Not believed, but noted.”
“Fine. I don’t care. I just need to know how you got in that casket.”
“I already told you I don’t know.”
Once again, he tilted his head back and slowly exhaled. “All right, I think you were at Wood Pawn, and the brothers put you in the bag with Glenn. If you can confirm that, I can offer you the club’s protection.”
“Protection? From what?” I asked, trying to stall so I could think.
“The Wood brothers. The Grave Prowlers.”
“I thought you weren’t going to hurt me.”
“I’m not.” He sighed. “How much do you know?”
“Is this about the cremations?” I asked. “Because everybody knows about that.”
“Everybody knows what?”
“Everybody knows y’all cremate people … like Glenn.”
“Who’s everybody?”
“The people you do business with,” I said carefully. “And the enemies of the people you do business with.”
“Which one are you?”
I couldn’t lie because he knew they didn’t do business with me, but saying I was an enemy—albeit an unwilling one—didn’t seem like a smart move. “Neither. I listen to rumors and repeat them when I shouldn’t. I don’t know anything.”
“I know you know nothing from when you were at the crematory, but I don’t know what happened before you got there. I don’t care about anything except what happened from a few minutes before you entered the bag to when you arrived at my location.”
Fuck it. It was hot as balls outside, and my arms were aching from holding the shotgun. I was going to tell him. If he didn’t react favorably, I could shoot him.
“I met Glenn for lunch, and he stole my wallet. I got in my car and followed him across town to get it back. I went inside the store he went into, we argued, and that’s the last thing I remember until I woke up zipped in a bag.
I can speculate all day, but I can’t say for sure who put me in the bag. ”
“Fuck,” he groaned. “I need proof that the Wood brothers did this.”
“Did what?” I asked, confused.
“Put you in the bag with Glenn,” he said slowly.
Asshole.
“What are you missing? They sent Glenn to you. I was there with Glenn, and then one of us woke up at your place. It’s not hard to figure out who put me there.”
“Proof,” he repeated. “I need proof.”
“Then what? What happens once you have proof?”
“The Wood brothers wronged us. If you can help us prove that, we’ll make sure they aren’t a problem for you. As long as you can keep your mouth shut, I can guarantee your safety.”
“Cut the shit. If I help you, you’ll kill the Wood brothers and leave me the fuck alone. Is that what you’re saying?”
“I’m saying no one will hurt you. You can go home and pretend none of this ever happened.”
“Or I could shoot you and pretend that didn’t happen.”
“But then you’d have a body to deal with, and I’m the guy they call to deal with bodies, so that’s not the route to go.”
I was ready for our awkward standoff to be over, so I told him the truth. “I have proof, but I don’t have a reason to trust you.”
“I can give you two things to change that, but I’ll have to move my hands to get them.”
“What are the things and where are they?”
He turned his right hand around and wiggled his middle finger. “This ring is part of a set. The matching one is in my wallet. As long as you have that ring, you’ll have the club’s help for anything you need.”
“You can use one hand to get your wallet and throw it to me. Slowly. Keep the other hand in front. I will absolutely shoot you if necessary.”
“I have no doubt,” he said and carefully reached into his back pocket. Retrieving his wallet, he held it up for me to see before he tossed it across the porch.
I glanced at the wallet lying directly beside my foot. I couldn’t get it and retrieve the ring while keeping a steady aim on Stone.
“What was the other thing?” I asked.
“My gun. It’s in a holster on my side. I’ll slide it across. It’ll be easier for you to hold than that shotgun.”
If he wanted to disarm himself, who was I to say no? “Fine. But go slow as fuck. I really don’t want to blow a hole in you because you twitched wrong.”
“I really don’t want that either. It’s on my right hip.”
His movements were slow and precise as he removed the gun from its holster. He placed it down on the wooden deck and gently pushed it across to me.
Keeping the shotgun pointed at him, I squatted down to pick it up and glanced over it to see if it was loaded.
Satisfied, I placed it on the chair beside me and ejected all the shells from the shotgun.
Dropping the shotgun, I picked up the handgun, aimed it at Stone, and kicked the shells over the edge of the balcony.
Then I retrieved the ring from his wallet and tossed it back to him. “Before you pick that up, lift your shirt and pull out your pockets.”
He wordlessly lifted his shirt and turned in a circle. Then he pulled up each pant leg before he reached for his pockets. “I have a pocketknife in this one. You can hold it, but I want it back.”
“Keep it. You won’t get close enough to use it.”
When he finished showing me he didn’t have any weapons, he picked up his wallet and tucked it into his back pocket. “Your turn.”
“I’m not lifting my shirt and twirling for you, motherfucker,” I snapped.
“I meant the proof. I gave you my trust-me shit; now it’s your turn to give me your proof.”
Fuck.
“I don’t know how to give it to you.”
“What do you mean? Just give it to me.”
“It’s a video. I don’t have anything physical to give you, and I’m not sending it to you electronically.”
“Fine. Show me the video. I’ll record it with my phone.”
“I’m not comfortable with that.”
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “What are you comfortable with?”
I couldn’t let him come inside, and I didn’t want to get close enough to him to restrain him. “See the dock?” I used his gun to gesture to Hadley’s dock, which had to be at least a hundred yards away from the back of the house. “Walk down there and wait five minutes before you come back.”
“Are you fucking serious?”
“It’s a video of me chasing Glenn into Wood Pawn.”
“Where did you get that?”
“It was illegally obtained from a nearby business’s security camera. Do you want it or not?”
“Yes, I want it.” He turned to leave, but I stopped him.
“I need your phone.”
“Why?”
“To record the video.”
“No. I’m not leaving my phone with you. Bring your shit out here, and I’ll let you use my phone to record it when I get back from my evening stroll.”
“Fine.”
Once again, he turned to leave. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Like handing over video evidence to an outlaw hoping he won’t turn around and give it to the other outlaws after me?”
“I won’t,” he said seriously. “And, by the way, Nate and Tate aren’t outlaws.” With that, he descended the stairs.
I waited until he was three-fourths of the way to the dock before I darted inside and sprinted for the laptop I had been using. I’d left it downstairs on the kitchen table.
I was out of breath when I made it back to the deck, but I was pleased to see Stone still standing on the dock. I waved my arms to get his attention. “You can come back.”
When he returned, I had the video file open and ready to play. “Slide your phone over.”
I could tell he was annoyed with me, but he unlocked his phone and slid it across. Recording the video playing on the screen while keeping Stone’s gun pointed at him wasn’t easy, but I got it done and slid his phone back. “Let me know if that will work. You need to zoom in after I go inside.”
He watched the video and nodded. “Perfect.”
“Great. Well, you can see yourself out. You know the way.”
“Hold on,” he said. “We’re not finished.”
“Why not?”
“You still have my gun and my ring. If you’re gonna keep them, you need to understand what that means.”
I assumed I would keep the ring for the time being but not his gun. “All right. What does it mean?”
“The gun is a show of faith. You could really fuck me over with that in your possession, just like I could really fuck you over with this video. The ring means the club owes you a favor in return for the one you did for us. In this case, we’re protecting you.”
“Got it.”
“I wasn’t finished. If you go to the cops or try to fuck us over, we won’t hesitate to kill you.”
“Understood. I know very well this is the kind of situation that’s best handled without police involvement, and I have no interest in fucking you or your club over. I was unknowingly dragged into this, but I’m knowingly trying to get out of it.”
“Speaking of dragging people into things, if you were to fuck the club over, they’ll kill me after they kill you.”
“Are you serious?” I asked. “I mean, I’m not going to do anything intentionally, but I don’t know if I like having that kind of responsibility. What if I unknowingly fuck the club over and get us both killed?”
“As long as you don’t say anything to anyone about what happened on Friday or today, we’ll both be fine.”
“Well, kill me now, because I already told Stevie and Hadley,” I confessed.
“I assumed so, but don’t say anything to anyone else.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “Why are you doing this?”
He shrugged. “I don’t fucking know.”
“You suck at pep talks,” I mumbled.
“What was that?”
“How will I know when I can go home?”
“Wait at least forty-eight hours to turn your phone back on. I’ll be in touch.”