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“Process of elimination,” I said, rolling the idea around in my head, liking it more and more as it took hold in my brain. “Although, I don’t think mass murder is how that process usually starts.”

Bear snickered.

“Dre doesn’t have anyone after her, so this is definitely something related to me,” I said.

“What about that other guy Dre was with when you first met her?” King asked. “The one you didn’t kill.”

“Eric,” I said, hating the way his name sounded out loud. “Before Dre even left the first time I tracked him down, but I was too late. Fucker was already dead.”

“Good,” King said. “So he’s out. Who else?”

Bear cleared his throat. “We finally got a location on the coroner who signed off on your death certificate. There’s no way he wasn’t on Chop’s payroll. Plus, the bitch ran shortly after the news that you were alive started to make the rounds through town. He thought he could hide from us, but he thought wrong. Smoke tagged him in a public housing complex in Fort Romig, just a thirty minute ride down the coast.”

“Close enough to make him a suspect for last night too,” I pointed out.

King sneered and cracked his knuckles. “Motherfucker should have run further.”

I nodded. “He’s on the list.”

“The guy at the funeral home who was covering for Chop, who told us that open casket wasn’t an option because of some shit about an embalming mishap? He’s been taken care of courtesy of Jake Dunn,” King said, toying with a buckle on one of the leather belts wrapped around his forearms.

“Thank fuck for that crazy son of a bitch,” I said, taking a swig of whiskey from the bottle and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

“Who else?” Bear asked. “What about Bo’s mom?”

“Dre is his mom,” I corrected with more bite than I meant to.

“You know what I mean, Prep. His biological mom. The bitch who shot him out her pussy,” Bear amended.

“She’s dead.”

“You?” King asked, asking if I was the one who killed her.

I shook my head. “Nope. Although, it would have been. I gave her enough H to do the job after she signed the adoption papers. The bitch must have had a tolerance like a pre-Iron Man Robert Downey Jr. Anyway, she must have pissed off one of her dealers real good ‘cause the fucker put an ax through her head.”

“Ouch,” Bear said, but the fucker was smiling.

“Yeah, and I thought I had a headache,” I said with a laugh. “Where are we with the hospital staff?”

“The hospital shit’s a fucking mess,” King scoffed. “The staff there signs off on each other’s charts. The doctor who was in charge of the ER at the time died a while back of a stroke. Then we found out that the person who comes out to tell you that your loved one is dead isn’t necessarily the one who handles the case either. They’re understaffed and overworked, so they just get whoever is available to do something. It’s been a fucking disaster to sort through. The paperwork leads you in a circle and back to nowhere fast.”

“One of my guys is banging the head nurse on the night shift,” Bear said. “He’s gonna see what else he might be able to get.”

I lit a cigarette. “The doctor with that pussy ass smile tattoo on his hand. Dr. Reid. There’s no way that fucker’s not involved with Chop. Might be trying to get to Preppy through Dre to cover up all the shit he’s done. He’d have to have balls the size of tires to attempt it, but it’s still a possibility. We’ve been tracking him for months with no luck. He quit the hospital and vanished, but we’ll find him. He’ll surface. They always do,” I said.

“There’s no telling who else there could be involved. That’s what’s been tripping us up.” King lit a joint. “We can’t be sure we get to who all was involved unless we take out the entire hospital staff,” he laughed, passing the joint to Bear.

“Well, if we,” I started, but Bear interrupted before I had the chance to utter a word. “No, Preppy, that’s not a fucking option.”

I sighed. “I know, but you gotta understand that I’ve got this thing hanging over me now. I know this shit will take time, and I know that we’ll make sure anyone responsible for all this shit pays and pays big,” I paused and looked down to my hands. “And another part of me thinks that if there’s any chance that someone inside that place might try and come after Dre again, then I’m calling that psychopath, Rage, and letting her blow that hospital into a million fucking pieces.”

“How about we call that Plan B,” King offered.

“Deal,” I said, rubbing my sore shoulder and cracking my neck.

“You all right, Prep?” King asked. He’d walked away from the accident with only a scratch above his left eye.

“Yeah, but not all of us had fluffy Preppy cushions to land on,” I said. “Who else we got?”

“With Chop, Isaac, and Eli out of the picture, there isn’t much,” King said, exchanging a look with Bear.

“What?” I asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Bear cleared his throat. “What about Kevin?”

“What about him?” I clipped.

King shrugged. “We don’t know much about him. Guy shows up and claims he’s your brother.” He took a swig of his beer. “Not saying he’s involved in it, ‘cause just being your brother, if that’s what he is, isn’t enough to give him reason to want to get to you or Dre. But we’re just listing possibilities, right? ‘Cause the kid could be one.”

“What’s his story, anyway?” Bear asked.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Haven’t really talked to him much. Been so wrapped up in Dre leaving and then getting her back home. And then making sure we found Bo and keeping him safe. Haven’t spoken to Kevin more than a few words, and usually, it’s because I’m blowing him off. Last night at the party was the first time I’d seen him in months.” I felt an odd sense of guilt start to creep into my brain. “Guess that conversation is long overdue.”

“How should we handle it then?” King asked.

“Let me deal with Kevin,” I said.

Bear sat up straight. “How? You gonna take him out?”

“No,” I answered.

King and Bear both shot me looks that were part sympathy and part ‘he’s gotta go.’

I looked between my two friends.

“At least not yet.”

CHAPTER THREE

Dre

Brakes squealed growing louder and louder. A high-pitched scraping noise tore through the night. The smell of burning rubber filled the air.

I managed to lift my head just in time to see a speeding truck become airborne and flip over onto the driver’s side with a loud crunch. Metal scraped against the pavement. Orange sparks popped from underneath the truck as it skidded and scraped its way across the pavement.

Directly toward me.

My eyes shot open. I was disoriented when I found myself in the same room where I’d discovered Preppy was alive. Same pink walls. Same Barbie clock on the wall. Of course, I knew now it was Max’s room.

I pulled back the covers, noticing that I was only wearing an oversized button-down shirt and panties.

Why am I here?

I searched my brain for the reason why I was in King and Ray’s daughter's room but kept coming up blank. I attempted to stretch my arms over my head with no such luck. Soreness and aches stopped me before I was even able to lift them past my chest.

The fabric of my shirt brushed up against my thigh, and I hissed in pain. I lifted the hem to see a big bandage covering most of my upper thigh all the way to my butt cheek.

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