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It was then that I decided to do something that she would never forgive me for because it wasn't my place to do so. But, at the same time, I needed help... and they were the only ones who could help me.
I needed to find the mother fucker and then I needed to teach him what I thought about a man who put his hands on the woman who trusted him to take care of her.
To do that, well, I fucking needed to bring in Hailstorm on the plan.
I drove there thinking of all the ways I was royally fucking things up with Lo. Then I wondered why the fuck it mattered. She was a woman I was fucking. She wasn't my woman. Hell, I never had a woman that I would call mine. That wasn't what I did.
But for some reason, betraying her, it was bothering me... even if it was for her own good.
“I know you were here the other night, man, but can't say you're a welcome guest,” the guy at the gate told me on a shrug.
“Don't have time to have a pissing contest with you. Get me who is in charge. It's about Lo and it's fucking important.”
At that, his face betrayed him- he looked concerned. He closed the door to his little booth and picked up a phone. Not two minutes later, an older man with graying hair walked out. He had the silver fox thing about him I hoped I had at his age. Bet he still got all the pussy he wanted.
“Malcolm,” he said, nodding his head at me.
“Cash,” I said, getting out of my car and making my way to the gate.
“This is about Lo?” he asked, lowering his voice a little.
“Yeah.”
“You know where she is?”
“My house,” I said and every muscle in his body tightened. “She's in trouble, Malc,” I said, keeping my voice low so only he heard me. “She's gonna hate me for coming here, but I need your help to get her out of trouble.”
He nodded his head at the guy in the booth who pressed the button to open the gate. “I knew something was up,” he told me as I fell into step with him as he led me toward the command center so we could talk without being overheard. Hailstorm always had people everywhere. “Alright,” he said, closing the door to the brick building with reinforced walls and bullet resistant windows (Hailstorm was a goddamn fortress) and leaning back against it, his arms crossed over his chest. “What's going on?”
“Do you know Lo's real name?” I asked, not knowing if she shared more with her higher-ups than she did with most people.
“Wasn't my place to ask,” he said simply.
“Her name is Willow Crane,” I said, pulling my phone out from my pocket and showing him the picture I found earlier. He looked at young Lo, his face softening. “That is her husband, Damian Crane- Marine, American hero, wife beater...”
Malcolm's face snapped up and I saw a mix of sadness and anger in his eyes. “What?”
“Yeah, man. For years until she finally got sick of it and stabbed him twelve times and left his half-dead ass behind.”
“Half-dead?” Malcolm asked, looking disappointed.
I nodded. “She showed up at the compound a couple days ago. She was... beaten. Her face, man,” I said, looking down at my shoes for a second.
“Fuck,” he cursed back.
“And her ribs,” I added. “As you guys know, she helped us out a while back. She was calling in a favor...”
“Because she didn't want us to know about this?”
“Yeah.”
“Now we need to work together and find this bastard.”
“Yeah,” I agreed again. “I don't have the resources you guys do to locate him. But let me get one thing straight, man,” I said and his brow raised. “When we find that mother fucker, he's mine.”
“Only if you make him hurt,” Malcolm said, pushing off the door, looking fierce.
“That's the plan.”
“Alright. Let's get to work,” he said, moving over toward the computers and sitting down. “Wish to hell Jstorm was still around.”
“Jstorm?” I asked, taking the seat next to him despite not having a damn clue how to work any of their software.
“Janie. She's the best at this shit.”
“Well, we will have to make do,” I said, not sharing what I knew about Janie. The situation was messed up enough as it was.
It was the middle of the afternoon and Malcolm was beside me letting off a string of curses that would have made a truck driver blush as he clicked and typed, doing god-knew what.
“Nothing?”
“Not nothing. I know his place, his work. But he's on vacation from what I can gather. No one has seen him. Even tapped into the facial recognition software they have on the streets around here... nothing is catching him.”
“Fuck,” I said, shaking my head and standing. I needed to go, to do something. I couldn't sit around all day feeling utterly useless. “I got to go. Lo is going to be wondering where I am.” That was a lie, she was probably happy as hell that I was gone. “I'll give you my number and you can keep in touch.” Malcolm swiveled his chair to me, a weird grin on his face. “What?”
“I have your number. We have all of your numbers.”
“Oh... right,” I laughed, rubbing the back of my neck. They knew everything.
“Congrats on your clean STD screen last month,” he added with a huge smile. “With all the tail you get...”
“That's not fucking creepy at all,” I laughed.
“We need to know everyone's dirty secrets,” he shrugged.
“Right, well... keep me updated.”
“Will do,” Malcolm said, swiveling back to the computer and not bothering to walk me out.
I was glad for the privacy as I looked around the grounds, looking at the life Lo had built for herself and for her people. It was pretty fucking amazing what she had done for herself in just over ten years.
“Is Lo alright?” the guy at the gate asked, unable to help himself.
“She's fine. She'll be even better in about... thirty minutes,” I said, giving him a sly smile that left him slack-jawed as I pulled away.
