31. Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-One
Carver
“I’m doing everything I can,” Jesse assures me.
Nyx and her silent sidekick are still missing.
“Do you think they ran?”
She shrugs. “Anything’s possible. They got their revenge. Maybe they’ve moved on.”
“You don’t believe that.”
The woman doesn’t respond. An answer in and of itself.
I tap my lighter on the table. “You’ve checked everywhere in Trap?”
She sighs. “We’ve been over this, Carver. I’ve turned over every rock in that godforsaken place. They aren’t there.”
“Maybe someone found out they were working with the club?”
She looks at her husband rolling her eyes.
“That’s it, isn’t it? Their handlers are probably wondering how the hell they got away from the congressman.”
“They don’t have any fucking handlers. They arranged for the sale of themselves to the congressman. It was all phony.”
“So, they aren’t under the trafficker’s thumb?”
“No. The traffickers over in Trap would be stupid to grab them.”
She’s not lying there. Men like them usually go for the more submissive ones. “But …” I prompt her to tell me more. I know she knows more than she’s saying.
“But Nyx thought one of them might be following them. A new guy. He just showed up on scene to replace the guy that got arrested in Texas. He’s a known supplier on the streets. He’s a lone wolf, so I don’t know what’s possessed him to work with the idiots over in Trap.”
“Why would he be following Nyx? Surely his new buddies warned him she’s someone not to be messed with.”
“Maybe they did. We warned you, and yet you’re still trying to fuck around and find out.”
I ignore the way she just compared me to a fucking sicko trafficker. “Where do we find him?”
Her husband laughs harshly. “Don’t know. No one’s talking. Everyone in Trap is a little nervous now that Jesse’s been setting fires again.” He points the tip of his cigarette at her.
“You got a name? What does he look like? Anything? Any fucking thing?” I ask.
She taps around on her phone and slides it over to me.
“He looks like your average Joe,” I say.
“Not Joe, Tim. That’s probably what makes him good at what he does. He looks unassuming.”
“He kind of looks familiar,” I tell them.
“That’s the thing about your average Joe,” Dirk says, pausing when his wife corrects him.
“Tim.”
“Your average Tim,” he says dryly. “They all fucking look alike.”
“Just keep your eyes open,” she says, taking her phone back. “Nyx and Nova can fend for themselves. They might have just moved on down the road. They never had any plans to stick around.”
“Odd she didn’t tell you they were leaving.”
“Odd for most people, but not entirely out of character for Nyx.”
“I suppose not.” I take a deep breath. “So, on another note, I need you to talk to Luna for me.”
“About?”
I scratch my head. “Well, I heard,” I say quietly, leaning across the table. “That she’s having problems …” I make a crude motion with my hands.
The look on her face makes me instantly regret it.
“I’m not trying to be offensive.” I hold my hands up. “I just … I know how to help, but I want you to tell her.”
Dirk stands. “I’m out. You got five minutes … if she lets you live that long.”
Jesse watches him walk away.
“I … hm, she, well, I think she’s having trouble getting her dad out of her head when,” I almost make the motion again, but stop when Jesse flicks her lighter. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, but what I’m wondering is why you’re so worried about her love life.”
“Carson is my brother, one of my best friends, he deserves to get his dick …” Again, poor choice of words on my part. I’m used to hanging out with men, okay? “He deserves to be loved, and so does she,” I say instead.
“So you know what it’s like … to be in her position?” she asks, not even yelling at me about my earlier crude description.
“I didn’t say that.” I bite the inside of my cheek, thinking about how to approach this. “I’ve just made some stupid choices in life, and some of those were …” How should I put this? “Hard to get out of my head.”
She looks over at her husband, who’s now sitting with Raffe, his best friend. They both look over at us.
“I think you should talk to her about it,” she says after a few seconds.
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.”
“Why?”
“Because you can relate to her.”
“But I’m a guy. Wouldn’t it be better hearing it from you?”
“Maybe hearing it from a guy will make it more impactful.”
I shake my head. “Naw, can’t do it.”
“Then I guess she and Carson won’t get any …” she makes the same crude motion with her hands that I had.
Yeah, it’s disgusting coming from her too. I get it.
“There she is now.”
“Oh, no, I couldn’t …”
She stands and waves Luna over to us.
Luna’s bent over, resting her hands on her knees. She’s out of breath. She’s been playing with Mila all evening.
“I don’t want to interrupt …”
Luna jogs over, falling into the chair beside me. “Oh my god. I’m so out of shape. Where do kids get their energy from?”
“I’ve got to go check on the food, but Carver had something he wanted to talk to you about.”
That fucking bitch.
She winks at me before disappearing inside the warehouse.
Luna yawns into her hand. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
“Well,” I rack my brain for an excuse. “I thought we could talk about getting Carson and Cole back on the same page again.”
She studies my face. “Why do I get the feeling that’s not what you were going to say.”
“Okay, well, yeah, no, I mean.” I lean back in my chair. “So, I heard. On accident. A conversation Carson was having with his mom about …”
“Me?”
“Yeah, well kind of.”
Her brows pull together.
I let out a long breath. “Okay, so, like, I heard you are having a hard time …”
Those same brows jump to her hairline.
I knew this was stupid.
Her cheeks turn bright red.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I just thought I could help.”
“How could you possibly help with that, Carver?” she says, rising from her chair.
Fuck. I’ve made things worse when all I wanted to do was make them better.
I have to make this right.
“Because I’ve been there. I know what it’s like to not be able to get it out of your head.”
The empathy on her face almost makes me regret this. I don’t want anyone’s pity. Especially hers. My problems were self-inflicted. Hers were forced on her. That’s why I keep going.
“Sometimes your head knows you’re safe before the rest of you catches up. Give it time.”
“Did you learn how to keep it out of your head?” she asks.
I’d really like to lie to her, but that wouldn’t be right. I need to be honest.
“About ninety-nine percent of the time.”
She looks over at Rage who is now holding a sleepy Mila on his lap. “The twins finally wore her out,” she says, laughing lightly, but she can’t hide the tears in her eyes.