Chapter 41
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
GRANITE
I slammed my fist against the steel bars. “Let me fucking out of here!”
Onyx sat on the filthy bench, head leaning against the wall. He was as cool and collected as last week’s marijuana special.
I snapped my glare at him. “What in the name of ever-loving fuck happened tonight?’
He shrugged. “My guess is the PC figured out we were bullshitting him.”
“You think!” It wasn’t a fucking question. “But how? How the fuck did he figure it out, and how in Jesus’s name did they know where we were? No one fucking knew about that safe house.”
Onyx bent forward, placing his elbow on his knees. “I dunno, man. It doesn’t add up.”
“And we have no idea where Alyx is. Jesus!” I pulled at my hair, rage threatening to explode inside me.
“You saw her get into a van?”
“I saw her getting shoved into a van, man. There’s a difference.”
“Maybe it was cops getting her out of there.”
I shook my head and crouched with my back against the bars. “No. No. They weren’t cops. The van was unmarked. And if it was cops, why did the PC keep asking me where Alyx was?”
Onyx placed his palms together. “I don’t fucking know, man.”
“And Dutch. Fuck.” I pulled my hand down my face. “He got shot, and we don’t know if he’s okay.”
“Let’s just hope Manic or Ink got to Neon in time and closed the floor door. If the police find Neon, it’ll raise a lot of fucking questions.”
We heard a door unlock, and a detective held it open. “You have five minutes.”
I narrowed my eyes and stood. Manic came walking in wearing a hoody and sunglasses. “Thanks, man.”
The door closed, and I grabbed the steel bars. “Manic, what the fuck is going on? Did you find Alyx?”
He pulled the hoody off his head and removed the sunglasses, worry lines creased on his forehead. Even the goddamn scar on his face seemed more prominent than usual.
“No, dude. Sorry. There’s no goddamn trace of her.”
“Fuck!” Like a maniac, I slammed my head against the bars. I didn’t even fucking feel the pain. “And Dutch? He okay?”
Manic rubbed his chin. “He’s fine. While you two made a scene outside, Ink and I managed to get him in the basement. Police searched the house, but they didn’t find us hiding.”
“Thank God for one thing.”
“Yeah. The doctor got him sorted. Just a shoulder wound.” He looked at me, his eyes brimming with remorse. “Listen, man, Ink and I, we’re sorry we couldn’t help you and Onyx.”
“No.” I held up my hand. “You did the right thing by getting Dutch to safety and keeping them from finding Neon.”
I pressed my fists against the bars and stretched, letting my head hang down. “Where the fuck is Alyx, man?”
“We don’t know.” Manic glanced at his wristwatch. “But there’s something else.”
I snapped my head up. “What?”
“Tanit. She’s gone too.”
I shot up, and Onyx stepped in next to me. “Where the fuck is Tanit?”
Manic shrugged. “We don’t fucking know. But Trick said she hasn’t seen Tanit since this morning.”
“Maybe the same guys who took Alyx took Tanit?” Onyx looked at me questioningly.
“No.” I shook my head. “I only saw Alyx. Tanit wasn’t there. Plus, Manic just said Trick hasn’t seen Tanit since this morning.”
Onyx stared straight in front of him. “Are you sure the police don’t have Alyx? Maybe they took Tanit as well, I dunno”—he shrugged—“maybe to see if they can get some information on us.”
“No.” I pushed myself away from the bars and started pacing. “They don’t have Alyx. Her father was pretty fucking upset. He didn’t seem like a dad who just found his daughter. No, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t the police who took her.”
Onyx stepped up to the steel bars and held his hand out to Manic. “Dude, gimme a smoke, would you?”
Manic pulled out a pack and gave Onyx a cigarette before lighting it for him through the bars.
With arms still dangling over the rails, Onyx let out a long breath of smoke. “Either someone spotted us out here, or we have a snitch.”
Manic and I stilled. Talking about a snitch was big shit. That wasn’t the kind of accusation one idly flung around. If you went around accusing someone of being a snitch and you were proven wrong, you kissed your motherfucking patch goodbye.
“A snitch?” I walked closer.
“Yeah, man. It’s the only thing that makes sense. That, or we were followed to the safe house. How else?”
I shook my head, rubbing my beard. “No one would have followed us. We never used the same way to the house twice in a row. Plus, Manic had been doing runs, like, ten times a fucking day. No,” I shook my head again, “we couldn’t have been followed.”
Onyx leaned to the side, facing me. “Then the only other option is we have a snitch.”
The detective came back in. “Hurry your asses up. We got company coming this way.”
“Manic.” I pressed against the bars. “Find her.”
He gave a light nod and pulled the hoody over his head, disappearing out the steel door.
I hung my head. Alyx was gone. I had no idea where she was. And to make things worse, I was in here, behind bars and unable to do shit about finding her.
“Do you think the Pythons are behind this?” Onyx went to sit back down on the bunk.
“It crossed my mind.”
“But?”
I bit the inside of my mouth. “I dunno. It just doesn’t seem like the Pythons’ typical MO.”
“Maybe they decided to be a little less predictable this time. And since you and Ink have been burying and burning dead Pythons, it wouldn’t be surprising if Slither upped his game.”
I opened my mouth, wanting to respond, when the steel door opened again.
“PC wants to see you.” It was the same detective who smuggled Manic in here, one of those dirty cops on our payroll.
I straightened. “Detective Harrison, right?”
“Yeah.”
“What the fuck is going on?”
He leaned closer, glancing at the door to make sure we were not overheard. “PC wants his daughter, man.”
“Yeah. And we were helping him find her.” I was getting sick of playing this game.
He shook his head. “An anonymous tip came through this morning. Said his daughter was spotted with Kings in Coney Island.”
I roughed my hand through my hair. “Who gave the tip?”
He lifted his shoulders. “Fuck me if I know.”
“Yo, Harrison.” Another guy peeked through the door. “The PC is waiting for him. Hurry the fuck up.”
Harrison unlocked the cell door and held out a pair of cuffs. I hesitated, thought I’d try to make his head implode with my mind. But he gave me a once-over and lifted a brow. “Don’t make trouble, okay?”
“You ain’t getting no trouble from me.” I held out my hands, planting my wrists together. The cuffs were cold, and he tightened them a little too fucking tight.
Two armed officers stood by the door. They were packing heavy security around me. Probably a good thing because I was one threat away from ripping every goddamn person’s heart out in order to find my Alyx.
They cuffed me to a chair in one of the interrogation rooms. It wasn’t my first rodeo. I’d been in rooms like these more times than I could count.
One-way mirrors.
Security cameras.
Little to no air conditioning. The more you sweated, the more anxious you got, the easier you talked.
Usually, I’d be super chilled while waiting in one of these rooms, confident the cops wouldn’t be able to rattle me.
But not today. Today was different. There was so much more on the line than telling lies and getting out of trouble.
Protecting the crew. It was about Alyx. It was about getting myself out of here so I could go protect the one person who had somehow managed to become the center of my fucking life.
The PC walked in, the look on his face making his distaste for me known. “You son of a bitch. All this time, you lied to me.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then why don’t you tell me exactly how it is?” He sat across from me, and I tugged at the cuff keeping me in place in the chair.
“You need to let me go so I can find your daughter.”
“Not this time, Lincoln Walker.”
“Oh,” I snorted, “we on a first name basis now? That puts our relationship on a whole new level, doesn’t it, Timothy Green?”
“Cut the crap.”
“Then let me the fuck out. Someone took Alyx when you and your fucking squad decided to be fucking heroes by storming into our motherfucking safe house.”
“Do you seriously think I’m going to believe you now, after you’ve been spewing me bullshit all along?”
I lolled my head back, frustration boiling in the pit of my stomach, threatening to fucking burst right out of me. “You got it all wrong, Commissioner.” I glared at him. “Ever consider that the info you received might be bullshit?”
He clasped his hands, leaning his elbows on the table. “As I’m sure you already fucking know, we got an anonymous tip saying my daughter was being held hostage by the American Street Kings in Coney Island. What kind of father would I be if I didn’t act immediately?”
I almost fucking laughed in his face. “It’s a little late to start acting like a father, isn’t it?”
His eyebrows lifted, the creases on his forehead joining his widow’s peak. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
I bit into my lower lip, wanting to fucking growl like an animal. “I always knew you didn’t have balls. That’s why you got the Kings to do your dirty work for you, because you couldn’t do it yourself. But the fact that you couldn’t even stand up to your psycho wife, abusing your daughter—”
“Stop right there, you son of a bitch.”
I jerked forward, the steel cuffs clanking against the metal frame of my chair.
I snarled, wishing I could fucking bash his face in and feel the crack of bone.
“You watched while your wife shoved her finger down Alyx’s throat, and you did nothing.
Nothing!” I yanked at the cuff again, the adrenaline and rage making it impossible for me to stay in control and remain still.
“For years, you watched your daughter wither away, sat on the fucking sideline while her own goddamn mother ruined her. So, do not sit there and pretend you have the moral high ground, you fucking coward.”