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Grit shrugged. “Don’t fucking know because I haven’t heard from her in a week. Tried her cell. Went to her apartment. Even drove over to where Rider was rumored to live, but nothing. She don’t answer when I call, and she isn’t at her apartment. I knocked on the door to Rider’s, but some old lady answered the door and said she didn’t know anyone named Rider.”

Fuck. That was not what I wanted to hear. “Did you go to the police?”

Laughter boomed from deep in Grit’s gut. “Are you fucking crazy? I know it’s been a couple of years since you stepped foot in Destin, but you gotta know Meeks has the fucking police department in his pocket. You really think I can walk up to the police station and tell them I think the last person to see Royal alive is Rider Meeks?”

Son of a bitch, he was right. “Well, I think that’s a better idea than coming here. What the hell do you think I am going to be able to do?”

Grit shook his head. “Not you, I.” He pointed to the clubhouse. “They are going to help.”

Nope. No way. Grit was not going to blow into town and fuck up what I had going at Sultry Knights. I was building a new life, and there was no way Grit was going to mess it up. Besides, I wasn’t in with the Knights to the point they actually cared about me. Sure, I was holed up in the clubhouse because there was some psycho out there killing girls from the club, but it wasn’t because they liked me specifically. They were keeping us all safe just for the sake of not having to bury any more employees of the club. “They’re not going to help you, Grit.”

“Not me, you,” he sneered. “You’re gonna get them to help get Royal back.”

I shook my head. “They’re not going to help, Grit. I’m not one to them. The only reason I’m here right now is because they don’t want another dead body attached to their name.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to figure out a way to make them help because they are the only people who can get Royal back.”

I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Royal’s number. “I don’t even know how the hell you found me,” I grumbled.

“Royal let it slip a while back that you found your way to Rockton and were shaking your ass on stage. Only one strip club in town, I.” He nodded to my phone. “And, she ain’t gonna answer. It’s gonna ring and go to voicemail.”

I pressed the phone to my ear and listened to it ring seven times before Royal’s voicemail greeting played. “Roy, it’s me. What the hell is going on? Call me as soon as you get this.” I ended the call and shoved the phone back in my pocket. I had no idea what else to say. “I’m not getting the Knights involved in this.”

“You gonna go toe to toe with the Meeks?” Grit chuckled. “Gotta tell you, you don’t stand a chance.”

I curled my lip and growled. “What about all of the hoodlums you used to hang out with? Get them to help you.” Grit was always hanging out with scads of unsavory people when we were dating. I doubted that had changed in the past two years.

Grit shook his head. “I don’t trust anyone in Destin. Fuck, I don’t trust anyone who lives within five hundred miles of Destin, period.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Bullshit, Grit.”

“You haven’t been home in a while, I. Shit has changed.”

Something else Royal didn’t tell me when I talked to her. “How can things have changed that much, Grit? We lived in a shitty part of town, and you were a dick. That change?”

“Town got shittier, and I managed to grow up a little bit. All the lowlife pieces of shit I used to know moved on to shittier things while I’ve managed to hold down a job that leaves me little time to eat, let alone sleep.”

I rolled my eyes. That was something I’d never believe. Grit being an actual decent human being? “We need to call the police, Grit.”

That was our only choice. The Devil’s Knights were not an option. I was not going to fuck up my new life.

“Do I really need to go over this again with you?”

“Then I’ll go to the police here. Destin police can’t ignore Royal missing when another police station is telling them about it.”

Grit shook his head. “Ain’t gonna fucking work, I.”

I held up my hands. “Well, it’s at least a fucking plan. Right now, the only plan you have is to tell the Devil’s Knights they need to get Royal. There is absolutely nothing in it for them.”

“Well, since you have all of the answers and my idea is shit, I’ll just leave you to it, Indy.” Grit turned on his heel.

I reached out and grabbed his wrist. “Wait.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “I ain’t got

time for games, I. I need to get Royal.”

My eyes dropped to my feet and then back up at Grit. “Just…give me a few days.”

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