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‘What are family for?’ Rainer asked. He put his hand on his hips as he surveyed the state of the place, before wandering off down a dark corridor.
Family.
It was a word that had a very specific, complex meaning for Wolf. Course, Rainer was talking about his brothers in the MC. But Wolf’s real family were not the kind of people he wanted around him. Ever.
‘Notmyfamily,’ Wolf said. For a moment, as he closed his eyes and sipped again at his whiskey, he had an image of his father in his mind, standing over his mother, a bottle in his hand and anger in his eyes.
‘Family isn’t always blood,’ Byron said, laying a heavy hand on his shoulder.
‘Wolf, you need to see this.’ It was Rainer, peering back into the room, a look of shock on his face.
Family.
That was the word below a shelf packed full of stuffies. There were bears and bunnies, a pair of owls and a few small, brightly-colored animals of indeterminate species lined up in a row.
‘Is this some kind of shrine?’ Baron was looking in disbelief.
‘I’ve no idea,’ Wolf said.
‘Hey, have you been living here in secret?’ Rainer asked, a smirk on his face.
‘You got me,’ Wolf said, his words slightly slurring already. ‘I been setting up a stuffie factory. Surprise!’
Baron stroked his chin. ‘I think thereissomeone living here, you know.’
‘Who sets up a stuffie store in the gents’ bathroom of a derelict bar?’ Wolf asked, completely flummoxed.
‘We need security,’ Rainer said, suddenly serious. Obviously, he was thinking with his Sergeant-at-arms brain now. ‘The padlock was secure, so there’s obviously some other way into this place.’
‘Not if whoever set up all this stuff found Wolf’s key,’ Baron pointed out.
‘You think they’re still living here?’ Rainer asked.
‘Gotta be,’ Wolf said, looking at the makeshift desk. It was just an old packing crate on its side. On top of it was a scrap of fabric, a pair of weird-looking scissors, and a threaded needle. ‘This all looks fresh.’
‘We should throw it out,’ Rainer said, taking a hard line.
But for some reason, Wolf didn’t feel the same. ‘No,’ he said. ‘This is important to someone.’
‘Well, yeah, but it’s on our property,’ Rainer said. ‘Can’t take any chances. The Death Division are down, but they’re not beaten. Far from it.’
‘This isn’t anything to do with the Death Division.’ Wolf shook his head. ‘If I had to put money on it, I’d say this was a Little’s doing.’
‘You think so?’ Baron asked.
‘I don’t know. Who else would have a family of stuffies?’
Maybe it was the drink talking, but there was something about the innocent way the soft toys were laid out that touched him deep inside. He imagined hands lovingly positioning the toys, taking care to make sure that they were placed just so. Obviously, whoever set this up had been taking care of the place, too. It smelled better than it should and there was no mold or decay anywhere.
He didn’t want to potentially ruin this person’s life. He didn’t have the right.
‘No,’ Wolf said, ‘I’m not gonna get rid of this stuff. Not yet, of course.’
‘So, what are you gonna do?’ Rainer was surprised.
Wolf pulled a flyer from his back pocket and a clicky ballpoint pen from inside his cut. ‘I’m gonna write a note.’
CHAPTER 2
