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Down from me, the baby was starting to fuss, and the mom was trying to put extra cheer into her voice as she told him toSay bye to Daddy, baby!
“Still, you never know,” I said, making a mental note to send those names to Simon. He seemed to have pretty good investigators.
I had to get Rook on things too.
I’d been trying not to put him on a case, since he really wasn’t supposed to be hacking again with the threat of Nancy Bird constantly hanging over his head. But he could figure out shit about the gym employees that no one else would be able to. Private social media exchanges, crypto wallets, texts. That kind of shit.
I would have to ask Slash before getting Rook involved, but I added that to my list of shit to do before I headed back to the clubhouse.
I knew once I got there, all I was going to want to do was grab Everleigh, take her back into my room, and get lost in her, and forget all about this shit.
I had to get the ball rolling with her defense, with her innocence. Then and only then could I go back and feel good about letting the world fall away for a few hours.
“Is there anything that comes into the gym from smaller companies?” I asked. “The pre-workout or the protein powder? The add-ons for the juice bar?”
“Maybe,” Gav said, but didn’t seem convinced.
“What about the cleaning supplies or the merch?” I said.
And it was like I’d detonated a bomb located somewhere inside his core.
His entire body jolted hard.
And his gaze shot to mine, eyes huge.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The merch,” he said, the words coming out small and tight, and I couldn’t tell if it was shock or confusion in his voice.
“What about the merch?”
“It’s the fucking merch,” he said through gritted teeth, and I finally saw that it wasn’t shock or confusion at all.
Oh, no.
That was blind fucking rage coursing through him.
“How is it the merch?”
Gav’s eyes were daggers as he exhaled hard and tried to speak past the clenching of his jaw.
“I get the merch from mybrother.”
I wasn’t proud of my first thought following that declaration.
Something about how it was refreshing to not be the only one with a complicated relationship with their brother.
“Okay,” I said, nodding, wanting to understand. “But why him? More than anyone else?”
“Because this is just fucking like him. He’s been a fuck-up his whole life. In and out of juvie for beating up on kids, on ourmom, for tagging, for defacing school property. For using and dealing drugs…”
And there it was.
The smoking gun we were looking for.
“He was supposed to have turned shit around. Supposedly been clean a year. That was the only reason I’d agreed to help support his new business venture. I’d bought him the fucking heat press machine and his supply of clothes and bags and shit. Thought I was doing something good. Supporting his new life. Ma was fucking thrilled about it,” he added, spitting out those last words like they left a bad taste in his mouth.
“Say it is your brother,” I started, “why is he sending the boxes of… shit through your gym?”
