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“You can’t just suggest that we kill a prominent man like Anderson Grey,” Seer says in a rational tone. “We are not a bunch of bloodthirsty savages.”
“Yes, we are,” Hemlock says, rising to his feet to prove his point. “If that’s what it takes to stop Anderson. He’s walking all over us on purpose, don’t you see? And what are we doing about it? Nothing! Instead, Prez is making us house and feed a woman who used to work for him, and she parades herself around here like owns the place!”
“Abigail is a nice woman,” Hex says defensively. “Don’t talk about her like that. We all know she was under his influence.”
Bones scoffs loudly. “Spell, my ass! She’s a pretender and a damn good one at that!”
“She even has our Prez hooked!” Frenchie shouts from his place at the back. A few men laugh while others grumble their discontent.
“That’s enough!” I yell angrily, and everything instantly goes quiet. I look at the flustered faces of my men, and I feel my stomach sink in disappointment and trepidation. This is the reason he showed up at the clubhouse…he wanted to plant the seed of panic and discord. And from what I see he’s succeeded in doing just that.
“Orderliness is the ground rule of the church,” I say, jabbing a finger in the air to prove my point. “Did you all forget that? Everyone has a right to their opinion, but fucking wait for the mantle to be passed. Yes, Anderson is a nuisance and a menace at best, but that doesn’t mean we have to hand him so much importance. Abigail Miller is under my protection and will continue to stay right here in the clubhouse. If anyone doesn’t like that…,” I throw a pointed glare at Hemlock and Frenchie. “Let them take it up with me personally.”
While Hemlock mumbles a half-hearted apology, Frenchie has the decency to lower his head contritely. Bones remains unapologetic, staring straight ahead. I already knew that it would be difficult to get everyone to accept Abigail. Like every other person here, she’ll have to earn her stay. She’ll need to earn the trust and respect of the members of the club. Sadly, I can’t help her with that. But something tells me she’ll do well on her own.
“Let’s get back to the main issue at hand,” I say in a much calmer tone. “Anderson fucking Grey. We’ve established that the bastard is involved in dark sorcery. Not only that, he may be involved in the scandal and subsequent death of the former Mayor aspirant, Xavier Farrell. And somehow, the current Mayor may be involved in all of these. We have the facts; all we need now is evidence. And that is why I have invited Knix to come back, he’ll be flying in from Vegas in two days. As you all know, Knix is the best mercenary out there. If there’s anyone that can dig up real dirt on Anderson, it’s him. We’ll move forward with whatever Knix finds.”
“What if he doesn’t find anything?” Snake asks and shrugs lightly. “I mean, I tried.”
“Oh, he will find plenty,” I reply with a slow smirk. “Because Anderson is the filthiest scumbag out there.”
* * *
Abby
Iglance at my ringing phone and back at the open book in my lap, contemplating whether the call is worth disrupting my reading. I’m at a point in the book where I don’t want to be pulled out so abruptly. I never thought I’d enjoy a book about magic and mystical beings, especially judging by the tedious ones that Hex has gotten me in the past. They were usually amusing at most, but nothing that made me want to keep turning the pages. And then he brought me Jim Butcher’s Stormfront, and now I’m almost a believer. Almost being the keyword. From the beginning, I was captured and enraptured by the vivid description of the plot and characters. I could feel the thrill of adventure, almost as if I were right in the midst of all the events. I’ve never been so willingly lost in a fictional world of magic and crime – it’s an incredible mix.
The plot has kept me glued to the edge of my seat all morning, and it’ll require a great effort to walk all the way to the bedside to pick up my phone. I look at the sprawling words, patiently waiting to ensnare me once more, but the caller is unapologetically persistent. I set the bookmark in place and snap the book shut with a regretful sigh. I gingerly place the book on the small stool by the couch and walk over to the bed to pick up my phone. I frown down at the phone screen, once again torn between answering the call and just letting it continue to ring. Pocus had warned me against picking up calls from unknown numbers since it could be Mr. Anderson or someone that works for him.
I make a split-second decision, quickly swiping over the screen to answer before I change my mind.
“Hello? Hello? Miss Miller, are you there?”
I frown slightly, trying to mentally identify the woman’s voice, but I come up blank. She sounds distressed, though. What if it’s a trap?
“Miss Miller, are you there?” she asks again, a little hesitant this time. “I’m sorry. I think I got the wrong….”
“Hello,” I say quickly. “I’m…um…Abigail Miller. How may I help you, ma’am?”
“Thank Goodness, I thought I had the wrong number,” the woman says with a nervous chuckle. “I’m Nurse Ruby Tristan from Graceland hospital.”
My heart slams violently against my chest at the mention of Graceland. The hospital never calls a guardian unless something is very wrong…
“Laura?” I gasp softly. “Is my sister okay? Please, tell me she’s fine.”
“She… she was upset earlier, but she’s much more stable now,” Nurse Ruby replies.
“What do you mean she was upset earlier?” I ask, already on the edge of hysteria. “What the hell happened to my sister? Did she have a crisis?”
“No, not that,” Nurse Ruby replies. “It’s…some people were here earlier. Dangerous-looking people. They seemed to be looking for you. They…um…harassed Laura, trying to get her to tell them about you, and she snapped. She was greatly disturbed. We have tranquilized her, and she’s currently sleeping, but you need to get here as soon as possible.”
I didn’t realize I’d started crying until a tear splattered on the back of my hand. “Oh my God,” I murmur in a horrified whisper. “I’ll be right there.”
I throw my phone on the bed and drop my head into my palms with a strangled sob. Poor Laura. Why would anyone want to bother a sick woman? Who would do a thing like that? Mr. Anderson? Is he really an awful man like Pocus said?
“Abigail?”
I raise my head to see Pocus standing by the door. I didn’t hear him come in but seeing him now; I can’t help the helpless tears that stream down my cheeks.
