Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
I slipped off my gloves, throwing them into the trash before moving to the sink and scrubbing my hands. Blood stained my apron, splatter from the leg I had to cut off on the last corpse. As I rinsed off, my eyes drifted over to the clock. Seven fifteen in the evening.
Three days now since I’d spoken to Dom and had my little snap with Leslie. Three days of dead silence.
Maybe I messed up. What if they decided to say “fuck it” after all and ghosted me for good, not wanting to bother with all the trouble? It wasn’t their problem, they didn’t take my sister, and they were no longer with the Serpents.
I shut off the water and slipped over to the desk, sliding in the chair and pulling up the report of the last patient, filling in the remaining details before it was time to head home.
At least Jamie had come down to the city like he said he would. He stayed with me for most of the weekend. Besides hanging with my family and calling the station for any updates, we stayed in my apartment as Jamie did a deep-dive on everything he could find on the Order of the Serpent.
“They sound more like a DnD group than a gang.” Jamie snorted as he clicked away from one website to the next.
Even with Jamie’s research, there was only so much information on the group, not even a location for their clubhouse. Only rumors of places they frequented. No real way to contact them unless you knew one of them.
Dom already told me his insider didn’t know where Trish was so there was really zero chance of me and Jamie finding anything. But it felt worse not trying at all. To just sit there and do nothing.
His presence helped but, after Jamie left, the sinking feeling returned. Several times I nearly texted Dom but feared he wouldn’t reply.
As I finished the report, I closed it out. I sat there, staring at the screen for a moment before I pulled up Luke’s record.
Trish’s ex might’ve been obsessed with the gym, but he also loved to drink.
So much so that his report mentions a bar he’d owned on the edge of the city.
The police had questioned his business partner already and got no leads.
Still, it was one of the few places Jamie found that was rumored to be a Serpent hangout. It made sense given Luke’s involvement.
I studied the address of the bar. I wasn’t stupid enough to go down there by myself and ask around. But I was stupid enough to go down there if my brother came with me.
I closed out the report and left for the locker room. Once I changed, I called up my brother.
“Hey, Art. Dad okay?”
“He’s dealing. Think he’s about to start a campaign for Trish though. And Mom’s on her flight tonight.”
I cursed softly. “You working tonight?”
“Till ten at the latest. Why?”
“There’s a rumor that the men who took Trish hang out at this bar downtown…I thought maybe we could go.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Art?”
“Lena. Are you serious right now?”
“If we just see one of them and try to get them to tell us anything.”
“They won’t.”
“Please, Art.”
I heard his slow exhale of breath. “Christ, Lena.”
“We have to try.”
“I know this is hard. Waiting around, wondering. But we don’t know what these guys are capable of.”
“We’ll be in a public place.”
“That doesn’t mean shit.”
I rubbed the side of my temple. “Fine, I’ll go by myself.”
“The fuck you will.”
“Then come with me. Worst case, none of them are there.”
“No, the worst would be if they are there and they decide they don’t like us asking questions.”
I sank down on a bench next to my locker. “Maybe if we ask nicely?”
He started to laugh and so did I.
“We might put Trish at more risk,” he commented.
“I think she’s already being hurt by them. If Dad is serious about his campaign, then they’ll know we are looking for her regardless. If they can be negotiated with somehow…”
“You mean pay a ransom?”
“Basically.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“Dad would pay, you know it,” I said when he didn’t respond.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered. “He probably would.”
“Let’s just…check it out. We don’t have to start anything. Just see. If they’re there, at least we’ll know.”
He was silent again and I knew he was trying to mull it over in his mind. “We’ll check. But we aren’t staying long.”
“Not long.”
“I mean it, Lena. One drink. And you’re buying.”
“This was a dumb idea,” Art said beside me.
We sat in my Jeep in the parking lot of Luke’s bar called The Locust. There was a blue light above the door where a single bouncer stood.
A giant locust was painted across one side of the building in case someone needed a hint at the name.
We sat for a while, watching a few people come in and out.
Waiting to see if any of them looked familiar.
Fifteen minutes later, we saw them. A group of men in black leather, the Serpent patch clear as day on their backs. They came off their motorcycles and headed inside.
My hands tightened on the steering wheel. “You got your gun?”
“Why would I need my gun? I told you we aren’t staying, and we aren’t messing with them.”
“Just in case.”
He shook his head, muttering, “Yeah, I got it. But we can’t take it inside.
Against the law.” He took it out of the holster at his belt and stashed it in the glove compartment.
Art had been a security guard before he became a cook so at least I felt safe with him having my back.
He wasn’t exactly intimidating with his leaner frame, but he was tall and he was stronger and more agile than he looked.
His eyes, dark like mine, studied me. I knew he wanted to just leave. But I also knew he was like me in some ways—stubborn as all hell. He wanted Trish back too. And if there was one thing about my family, we would go to some serious lengths to get what we wanted.
We headed over to the door together. The bouncer asked for our IDs. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket but ignored it as the bouncer let us through.
The place was low lit with a blue light around the bar.
Tables and booths took over most of the space with a couple of pool tables and a pinball machine at the back.
Some of the neon signs and pictures of city buildings on the walls gave the place a retro feel, but it was mostly your typical dive.
Art and I went straight for the bar and sat down at a corner.
As we waited for the bartender, I glanced over and saw the group of men sitting at a booth.
They were talking loudly as a waitress brought over their drinks.
A few had buzzed heads while one had his dark hair slicked back.
Obviously, I couldn’t gauge if any of them were with Trish that night since their faces had been covered.
I got Art a drink, then we sat in silence as we listened to them talk. Mostly, it was one guy going off about a girl who gave him the best head in his life.
“Love when they cry. Best thing ever. Just absolutely obliterated, snot running down their face. Then when they try to talk, you slam your cock right down their throat.”
The others laughed and my stomach tightened, rage igniting in me. What if he was talking about my sister?
I was two seconds from getting up and screaming at them to tell me where the fuck my sister was. Then I felt my phone vibrate again.
I took it out and peeked at the screen.
What the hell are you doing?
It was from Dom.
My hand shook. Of course he was watching.
I searched around but saw no sign of them. He must have seen me go into the bar. No way he could see inside.
“You alright?” Art asked.
“Yeah,” I said even as I continued to look around. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
I looked down at my phone again to another message.
Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not worth it. Do not go near them. I know you’re angry and desperate to find your sister but talking to them won’t help.
Shutting off the screen, I set my phone back in my pocket. Maybe he was right, we should leave.
I let Art finish his drink, before I decided we needed to leave. My anger was rising too quickly, and I was bound to do something I was going to regret.
As I shifted off the stool, I bumped my shoulder into someone beside me. I turned my head to apologize, then froze.
“Woah, there.” The man with the dark, slicked back hair smiled at me.
“S-sorry,” I murmured.
He was a lot older in the light, with a beard flecked with gray and cold eyes.
“Nothing to it, sweetheart.” He had a sort of drawl to his words. He leaned over the bar next to me, signaling the bartender for another round of whatever beers he and his buddies were drinking.
He turned back to me and fixed me with a crooked smile. “That your boyfriend behind you?”
I tried to keep my expression straight. “My brother,” I said. “And we were just leaving.”
He arched his brow. “You go drinking with your brother?”
“No.” I glanced over my shoulder and saw my brother glaring at the guy. He got up from his seat, ready to leave with me.
“Special occasion, huh? Birthday?”
“No.”
“Well, whatever it is.” He pulled cash out of his pocket and put it on the table. “Drinks on me.”
I stood there, uncertain how to respond. Thankfully, Art did.
“Thanks, but we’re okay. We gotta get going.”
The guy shrugged, then told the bartender to put it on the tab for the next round.
Art nodded to me and I started to move. As I picked up my phone, it vibrated again but I didn’t stop to look.
“Hold on.” The guy put up his hand, blocking my way. “Sorry, but…” He tilted his head, his brows furrowing. “You look familiar. Do you have a sister?”
I tensed, my hand gripping my bag. From the corner of my eye, I could see his friends nearby watching.
His eyes moved along my face. I kept my head down, not catching his gaze. I waited for the realization to set in when I felt Art’s hand grip my shoulder.
“Must be a mistake,” my brother said. “We were just passing by.”
The man’s gaze never left me. “You can’t tell me if you got a sister or not?”
Now was the moment to ask about Trish. To beg, to plead, to scream for them to let her go. To somehow convince them. And for a brief second, I felt a surge of confidence.
Until he smiled, showing off perfectly straight teeth, one with a silver filling. His grin wasn’t friendly, it was wicked, like he already knew my secret—that I was Trish’s little sister. Something in his expression—a dark shadow in his eyes—told me this man was not to be fucked with.
It felt like the devil smiling at me.
He started to laugh. “It’s okay, sweetheart, no need to look so scared. Just an honest question.” He put up his hands. “But, hey, none of my business, right?”
I had to hold my tongue from snapping at him to not call me sweetheart. Art gripped my shoulder a little tighter. He started to push me gently toward the door, and I obliged.
The man turned as we left, his eyes continuing to follow us as he leaned against the bar. A few of his friends stood at the door as if waiting, glaring at us.
“Excuse us,” Art said.
They didn’t budge. I felt Art grow tense next to me, his arm now around me as if he was ready to put me behind him.
I felt the walls closing in, the men’s presence overpowering. I thought of Trish’s ex, Luke, with his skull bashed in.
There was a roaring in my ears, my body wound up, ready to bolt or fight.
They’re going to attack us, a panicked thought shouted in my head. They’re going to hurt us.
Then something changed and the men relaxed, side-stepping from the door.
“Stay safe out there,” said the man at the bar.
Art quickly led me out, flinging the door open and making straight for the car.
We got into the Jeep without a word. As I fumbled for my keys, Art took out his gun from the glove compartment and cocked it, setting it on his lap. I found my keys and started the car. We turned out of the lot as the door opened again, and I shoved my foot on the gas, taking off.
When we were sure they weren’t following us, I started to slow down. Eventually Art un-cocked his gun and put it in its holster.
We drove in silence until we got to my apartment building and I let him out by his car.
“We stick to letting the cops do their job,” Art said. “You hear me, Lena?”
I nodded.
He got in his car and I watched him leave. It was then I noticed a Mustang with a red stripe down its side moving slowly down the street. I took out my phone and saw the last message Dom sent.
Lena. Leave NOW.
That was when Art was trying to get us out the door. Dom must have been rushing there in that moment, then followed us to the apartment when he saw us leaving.
For the first time, I was grateful he had been watching.
I’m okay, I texted back.
He didn’t reply. The Mustang stopped for a moment, then eventually disappeared. I couldn’t blame him if he was angry.