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Roark snorts as he takes a sip of water. “You told us we should tone down our criminal activities,” he teases Jordan who shrugs.
“I don’t give a shit about that as long as you’re not caught, and don’t cause me more work,” Jordan explains, rolling his eyes. “I’m tired of the police not taking this seriously, and while we wait for your friend, I’m gonna do what I do best. Hack into the system and look for my fucking niece.”
Atlas stares at him in shock. “Alright then. Need any water or anything while you’re looking for our Lennon?”
“Coffee would be a damn blessing,” Jordan says, as he changes screens. His eyes flick up to meet Atlas’ as he adds, “please.”
“Absolutely,” Atlas says with a nod.
“I got it,” Roark rumbles, standing up. I was almost surprised he was okay with takeout, but we don’t have any supplies at the hotel, and this was easier.
Thank goodness for the small kitchenette with the coffeemaker, because this is gonna be a long fucking night. Roark quietly putters around, making coffee, and taking care of everyone. My eyes track him, wondering how he really is, and what’s going on in his head. I force myself to eat, reminding myself to check in with him later today.
Roark’s phone rings and we all still.
“Who the fuck is calling you at this time?” Mav asks in surprise.
This startles Roark out of his inaction, and we all quiet down.
“I don’t know this number,” he rumbles right before he answers. “Hello, this is Roark. It’s really fucking late so this better not be some sort of spam call.”
We all snicker quietly because it’s such a normal thing for him to grumble about.
“Derek?!” Roark roars and I shudder. “Where the fuck are you?”
We listen to the one-sided conversation, waiting for an explanation.
“Fuck, we’ll see you when you get here. We’re at the San Lucas Resort. You have a lot to explain” he groans as he hangs up.
“Ror, use your words,” I remind him, annoyed. I want to know where the hell Derek is.
Layla rubs her eyes, sitting up.
“Who was that?” she asks quietly. This snaps him out of his daze and he swallows hard.
“Derek says he’s a couple hours outside of Albuquerque, apparently riding with a truck driver, who was kind enough to pick him up. The man said Derek was practically naked on the side of the road, trying to hitchhike in the middle of the desert,” Roark says, raking his hands through his hair in disbelief.
“I was on the phone with Derek, but Barclay, I believe is his name, was very chatty. Derek couldn’t talk much because it was obvious that he didn’t want Barclay to overhear, but he told me to have Jordan look into Larsen. He said he was a terrible employee, and that he was sorry for everything. Derek is going to call again when he’s outside of our hotel. Barclay promised to bring him to us.”
“What the fuck does any of that mean?!” Mav explodes. “Where’s Lennon? Derek couldn’t say?”
“Guys,”Layla says softly. “If Derek was picked up in the middle of the desert, this Good Samaritan is already taking a leap of faith. Derek isn’t going to want to risk getting kicked out by talking about a kidnapping, if that’s what happened.”
I have a feeling Layla lowered her voice so that we would have to listen to her. It’s a smart performer’s tactic for crowd control… or dealing with men who are naturally loud as fuck.
“Wait, has anyone seen Larsen tonight?” Jordan asks, stabbing at the keys of his laptop.
We all rack our brains, glancing at each other. “I saw him when we arrived at the stadium to play,” I say slowly, playing with my tongue ring as I struggle to remember.
“We took a rideshare to the police station,” Roark interjects as he thinks.
“No, we haven’t seen him all night,” I tell Jordan, lips twisting in distaste. He wasn’t very nice to Lennon, I remember, while he was our driver.
“Fuck, fuck, there he is,” Jordan growls, turning the computer towards us. “I was looking for Lennon and Derek through the city and traffic cameras at first. I included Derek because of their fucked up history before he called. Then, I was hacking into the local business video surveillance, but nothing has been picking up. I just widened my search to include Larsen, and he was caught driving this car a little after The Darkest Nights’ show.”
Atlas gets closer to the laptop, frowning. “For the record, none of us care that this is all illegal, right?”
“Couldn’t give less of a flying fuck,” Roark says colorfully, and Atlas nods.
