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We climb the stairs up to the ninth floor, where his door is the first one around the corner. I knock once. Riot and Mayhem stand on either side of me, making themselves larger than life to block most of the view of me kicking in the door.
It flies open on the second attempt, but once I step inside, I know no one’s here. The silence is deafening. The second thing I notice is that the place is a shithole. The kitchen is covered with takeaway and pizza boxes, empty beer cans, and a sink full of dishes covered in mould. The hall carpet is littered with various forms of trash. The curtains are drawn tight, putting the living room in darkness.
Riot opens a door leading to a small bathroom and steps back, plugging his nose.
“How the fuck do people live like this?”
Mayhem opens a door leading to a bedroom and whistles, getting our attention.
An entire wall is covered with photos of me, Evie, and Thomas. There’s even a newspaper clipping of Lexi from her trial. He’s certainly done his homework on me.
Motherfucker.
“We’ll have to take these. Anyone comes looking after you’ve dealt with him, they’ll come straight to you,” Mayhem points out. Like I don’t already know this.
Together, we rip the lot down and shove it all into an empty carrier bag we find on the floor.
“He’s been obsessed for a long time,” Riot notes.
“How the fuck would he know I carried out the job?”
It occurs to me that no one but the guy who hired me knew I killed Jack Bowman.
“Someone sold you out,” Riot mutters, voicing my thoughts.
“Someone is tomorrow’s problem,” Mayhem reasons. “Come on, there’s nothing here that’ll help us. Let’s head out.”
Leaving his door barely hanging off its hinges, we make it down to the van without being seen.
“Where the fuck is he?” Riot growls to himself.
It’s the million-fucking-dollar question. I suppose it would’ve been too easy for him to bring Thomas to his flat.
My phone rings, with Evie’s name flashing across the screen. I have fuck all to tell her, and I can’t bear to hear the fear and disappointment in her voice when I tell her I have no news.
“The police are still here,” the prospect tells us as we approach the club.
Chaos is waiting outside, making sure the gates are closed so they can’t see us getting out of the van after we drive through.
“Please tell us you have something to go on?” Mayhem urges as Chaos walks toward us.
“Nothing yet. His place didn’t kick up anything?”
“Not a fucking thing. But the prospect’s got some burning to do. Bowman’s been watching me for months. Photos, the fucking lot.”
“Let’s talk in the back room,” Chaos suggests, and we all follow him into the clubhouse.
Once inside, I don’t have the patience to deal with being in one spot. I need to be doing something, if only riding around town, looking for my next kill.
But I take my seat and do what’s expected of me. I listen to May and Riot filling Chaos and the brothers in on what we found in Bowman’s flat, and dissect what’s happened so far. I sit quietly, listening to it all, until I can’t any longer.
“Eastford isn’t that big. He can’t hide for long,” I say, cutting through everyone’s bullshit. “The longer we sit here, the more time we lose.”
Pushing up out of my chair, I’m split between walking out and showing my respect in waiting for Chaos.
“What about the police sitting out front?” Mayhem asks.
“We’ll leave in pairs, seeing as they can’t follow us all. We’ll start at the school, then make our way out from there,” Chaos instructs.
When it comes to the safety of Thomas, I couldn’t care less what the plan is, as long as it results in him returning home to Evie.
