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“Research,” Tito answered, turning back around to watch me.
“Research, huh?” I looked down at the tabletop that was littered with notes, article clippings, and polaroid pictures.
“You’re full of shit, and you’re lying to my face. Why would you be researching them?”
I snatched up one of the many sheets of paper that had ‘Savages’ scrawled across it.
“I told you we shouldn’t have done this here,” Grady spat at Tito before turning his attention to me. “Cali, this isn’t what it looks like.”
“So, I’m just dreaming that you two assholes are meeting in secret to plan something that involves them?” I grabbed another sheet of paper, letting it flutter to the floor when I couldn’t decipher the sloppy handwriting scribbled all over it.
One picture in particular caught my attention. It wasn’t like any of my others.
I reached for it at the same time as Tito, slapping his hand away before he could pick it up. He wasn’t in color, the man in the photo. Whoever took the shot snapped it without his knowledge.
There was a scowl on his face as he looked at something not visible to the lens. Tattoos covered every visible inch of skin. ‘Savages’ was inked over his right temple, and directly beneath the corner of his eye was a tiny but noticeable inverted cross. I absentmindedly stroked my necklace, unable to look away from him.
“He might know where David is,” Tito eventually said.
“Might?” Suddenly, he had my full attention.
He sighed. “They’ve been abnormally quiet for the last few weeks. They could be working together. I think they might be about to do something big.
“My paranoia needs to know what the fuck is going on so I can be prepared if a shit storm is coming, and we don’t get caught in the middle.
“I need someone on the inside. It was either Simon or Grady, so I’m sending him.” He hitched a thumb in Grady’s direction.
“I get why you would keep this from everyone else, but why me? Why would you hide this from me?”
I was pissed and he knew it. I had been searching for David—my sperm donor—for years. It was damn near impossible to find him because he never stayed in one spot for longer than a few months. I’d heard through the grapevine that The Order was growing and his mindless followers seemed to be increasing with it.
“The fewer people who knew, the better. This isn’t a personal conspiracy against you.”
“This could all be a bunch of bullshit; like he said, it’s just paranoia,” Grady added, backing him up.
“I don’t care if it’s paranoia. If you so much as thought there was a minuscule chance of finding him, why wouldn’t you tell me?”
“Maybe because you aren’t the only one in this room who lost someone because of that piece of shit,” Tito snapped.
“Lost someone? I lost everything, but that’s beside the point. It’s not a competition. Why would you send Grady in, of all people? And why was Simon ever an option? He wouldn’t be able to find his dick if it wasn’t attached to him.”
“Well, I can’t trust many people with this. I don’t want anyone getting killed or falling into that lifestyle. Whom do you suggest I send? You?”
I shrugged. That’s exactly what I was suggesting. He started to laugh, stopping short when he saw how serious I was.
“Absolutely fuckin not. No. Are you out of your goddamn mind?” He picked up a recent article clipping and held it up for me to see. “Do you see what they do to women? Look at this!”
Huffing out a breath, I carefully studied the news photo. The breasts were the only thing left to confirm the person’s gender. Everything else was mutilated or gone.
A large inverted cross had been carv
ed right down the center of her naked torso. He clearly didn’t see what I did.
I saw someone trying to make a statement.
They were sending a personal message.
Whoever had taken the shot did so long after post-mortem. The body had begun to decay, but pointing out that anything or anyone could have taken her apart was a moot point with him.
