Chapter 18 #2
WiseWave620: I’m good but send Thorne. I don’t want you out of the apartment yet.
WiseWave620: Just in case.
Gl!tch.OS: I don’t like it but fine. Do you need anything from me?
WiseWave620: Just you and Oscar safe. Is he doing okay?
Gl!tch.OS: Hasn’t even woken up.
Keys was grateful for that. The apartment was soundproofed, so he shouldn’t have heard any of the gunshots, but a large vehicle had still rammed into the building.
Using additional blockages, Keys ushered any stragglers from other corridors away from the apartment and his computer lab, giving Thorne a clear path between the two.
He also muted the corridor speakers. It was too fucking early in the morning for that much shouting that the walls were moving.
Like he didn’t know the walls were moving them.
Idiots. For some reason, that thought also reminded Keys that he still hadn’t peed yet.
Probably should do that before he forgot or got distracted again.
Thorne arrived with a shirt, Keys’ cut, and a pair of sneakers.
“I want you back down with Rose,” Keys told him as he tied his shoes.
But Thorne shook his head. “Rose wants me with you. She’s fine in that fortress you built her, and Goose is cognizant enough to fire a gun, if needed.
Besides, she threatened to permanently lock me out of any phone or computer I tried to use in the future if I came back there without you, and that scares even an old fart like me. ”
Keys chuckled as he straightened. “Aren’t you afraid of what I’ll do to you if you don’t return to her as I just ordered?”
Thorne shrugged. “Honestly? No. You love her too much to make her worry, and you’ll know that she’ll be happier with me with you than me with her. So…” He let his voice trail off, the conclusion of his philosophy obvious.
Keys cursed, because the man was right. “Damn it. Apparently, I can no longer make fun of my brothers for being pussy whipped because I’m just as whipped!”
“You can’t say that like it’s an issue when you’re smiling like a loon, Boss,” Thorne advised as he held the door open for Keys.
* * *
Tyson Kennedy.
Well, fuck.
Even with a bullet between his eyes, he looked exactly like his federal photograph, which Keys had memorized weeks ago. How the fuck had he found them? Keys had been so careful. Yes, they’d baited him and set a trap for him, but it wouldn’t have—shouldn’t have—led him to Mount Grove.
What the fuck?
A number of the club and Thorne stood around the dead man who had contributed to half of Keys’ son’s DNA.
“Do you guys know which of you took him out?” Keys asked. It wasn’t an accusation, but he was still curious. He’d have to go back into his archives to see if he caught the shot on camera.
“This wasn’t one of us,” Angel said, arms crossed over her chest. “This was an execution done from a long range rifle.” Keys wasn’t the only one who pointedly eyed the gun still strapped to her back.
She scoffed at all of them like there wasn’t a brain cell between them.
“This wasn’t me. I shot to wound, not to kill.
” She pointed down at the corpse. “This was deliberate. Someone didn’t want him talking. ”
A chill worked its way down Keys’ back. “Someone got into my system tonight. It acted like they were there in the room with me, but they couldn’t have been.
I need to figure out how they did that, because he,” Keys nudged Kennedy’s boot with his sneaker, “certainly couldn’t have. He doesn’t have the skillset.”
“So we’re looking for a sniper and a hacker?” Bulldog asked. “Or are they one and the same?”
Keys didn’t have an answer for him. “Guess we’ll figure that out when we catch the bastard, or bastards.”
The noise of an engine drew their attention as Ghost and Bear came rolling up on Ghost’s hog.
Neither of them looked like they’d gotten any sleep.
Like Keys, many of the club were in nighttime wear or sweats with their cuts and boots, but both Ghost and Bear appeared to be in the same clothes they’d worn the day before.
Bear got off first, and then Ghost. “What the fuck happened?” the president demanded, eyes wide at the amount of dead and wounded bodies scattered about.
It was hard to believe that so much destruction and chaos had happened in such a short amount of time. Maybe a half an hour had passed since Keys had noticed the intruder in his system.
“Never mind this,” Keys said, approaching him. “What the fuck happened to you?”
Ghost looked pale, but more than his normal ginger-paleness.
There was a hardness to his expression that contradicted his ashen pallor, and his eyes were bloodshot.
Jesus, what had happened? Was it Becks? Had what happened here also happened on the club’s property?
None of Keys’ alarms had gone off, but then again, they hadn’t gone off here either.
It would have been so much worse if Keys hadn’t gotten up to work, rather than remain in bed with Rose.
Ghost’s jaw tightened as he looked to Bear, whose appearance honestly was not much better than Ghost’s.
More haggard than usual. “Ranger,” Ghost finally said in a gruff voice.
“He…” Ghost wiped his hand down his stubbled face.
“He left the property last night. He’d been doing well.
We didn’t think anything of it. But, when he came back, it was obvious something wasn’t right.
Becks was worried and went downstairs to check on him before we went to bed. ”
“He was high,” Bear filled in for Ghost when the president hesitated. “The needle was still in his arm when Becks found him.”
A stillness came over the air, even more intense than the full-on assault they’d just fought their way through. Holy fuck.
Keys had never done drugs, never even thought about using.
There were always too many other things to be done.
Until he learned of Rose’s history, he hadn’t really thought much about them.
Drugs equaled bad as far as he was concerned.
He didn’t even drink much. Although, one might argue that Keys had a sugar addiction, but that felt like comparing apples to oranges and expecting the scale to even out.
When Keys had learned what Becks and Ranger had been subjected to, how his ex-girlfriend had forced him to inject himself with heroin, Keys had done some research.
It was his way of coping. He knew heroin was extremely addictive, but there’d been a part of him that had foolishly believed that part wouldn’t be as strong with Ranger, because he hadn’t wanted the drug. It had been forced on him.
Maybe Ranger had believed that, too. Maybe all of them had done Ranger a disservice for deluding themselves into believing that it was something he would just “get over” because he hadn’t been a willing participant.
“I’ve got Ranger’s friend in Alexandria,” Ghost continued. “The one that runs the rehab center for veterans. We’re checking him in tomorrow.”
“For how long?” Angel asked, her hand over her mouth.
Ghost shook his head. “However long it takes. Lucky’s with him now. I didn’t want to leave him alone with Becks and Tessa while he is still in withdrawal, but I needed to see what was happening here.”
“Go,” Bulldog said shortly. “We’ve got this here, and I don’t want any of you driving. Grab a prospect or two.”
Though he was SAA and Ghost the president, Bulldog was responsible for the safety of every club member and their families. No doubt he was feeling the weight of Ranger’s relapse as heavily as Ghost was.
Ghost nodded once and headed back to his hog. He obviously wasn’t thinking clearly, because he didn’t ask for an injury count of the club members, which was very unlike him.
The lot was quiet in the wake of his taillights heading back across the road. Bear turned to the others. “Anyone injured?”
“Goose,” Thorne and Keys said at the same time.
“Take me to him,” Bear instructed before Thorne and he headed off. Rose couldn’t fault Thorne for leaving Keys when he was surrounded by his club brothers.
Keys rubbed his eyes, feeling like he could sleep for a week. “Well, at least the day can’t get any worse,” he grumbled.
Jigsaw slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t be such a pessimist, kid. It’s only five A.M.. I’m sure there’s plenty more ways to make this day worse.”
“Not helping,” Keys grumbled.
Prior to heading back to the apartment, Keys stopped into his computer lab to grab his laptop bag. He stopped when he saw a lime green sticky note on his center monitor. Brows drawn, he approached, not needing to pick it up to read it in its entirety.
See you around, big brother
* * *
Before Kennedy’s body had been discovered, Keys had seriously been considering Senator Mathews, Angel and Lyra’s father, as the mastermind behind the attack. It was the only logical explanation. But that note…
There was only one person in the world who would refer to Keys as “big brother”.
Keys hadn’t spoken to Keller since he was fifteen and Keller eleven.
He didn’t really have much of a defense; he should have.
It would have been right to, but he hadn’t.
He could tell himself all day long that it was because he didn’t want to rub his success, his happiness, in Keller’s face—but who was Keys to assume that Keller wasn’t as equally successful and happy?
It was just an excuse because Keys was too chickenshit to stand in front of his little brother and apologize.
Keys hadn’t asked to have Leukemia as an infant, hadn’t asked for their parents to genetically create Keller to be Keys’ donor.
But in many ways, Keys still felt like he owed Keller an apology for it.
The sticky note had been on his monitor. Keller had been inside the computer lab. How? And did Keller truly hate Keys so much that he would track down Kennedy and lead him to Mount Grove?
Why? And why kill Kennedy?