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What I’m doing is for her.
“I do,” he nods back at me understandingly. “That doesn’t mean I don’t hate you for it though,” he tells me honestly.
“You wanna postpone the hating for a while, and put everything into finding out who the fucker that hurt her is with me?” I suggest.
“Do I get to keep the gun?” Tawk’s eyes lower to his waistband.
“Kinda suits you,” I nod back.
“Then I’ll see you in the morning.” He holds his hand out to me, and I smash my palm hard into his. He squeezes me tight in his fist before we release, and he heads back out into the night with a heart almost as broken as mine.
I don’t hang around, I’ve just acquired fresh energy from his information and I head straight back down to the club to relay it to Prez.
I find Jessie first, he’s smoking a blunt on one of the old truck seats around the firepit.
“Something’s come to light, where’s Prez?”
“Filling in Roswell about how tonight went down,” Jess answers.
“Roswell’s here?” This is even better.
“Yeah, he’s here. Prez and him were in the member's bar last I checked.”
“I thought you’d be with them.” Jessie is usually involved in logistics, he’s got a good brain and is always thinking out our next move.
“I’m just thinking a few things over,” he breathes out, sounding tired.
“I need to speak to them both. You coming with?” I tell him.
“I’m with ya,” Jess gets up, balancing the blunt between his lips while shaking the dust off his jeans. Out of all of us, he’s got the most blood on him. When Jessie goes in, he goes in hard. I used to worry that having an old lady would soften him, turns out I was wrong, if anything, it’s made him more dangerous.
We find Prez and Roswell alone in the member's bar, a thick cloud of smoke looming over their heads while they talk.
“Troj, I heard about what happened…”
“Save it,” I interrupt his pity party before it even gets started. “I need info on any suspicious deaths or disappearances that have happened over the past few months.”
Prez looks confused, same as Jessie. While Roswell thinks through that old memory of his.
“Donny Robins disappeared back in February, but I know who’s responsible for that.” Roswell’s eyes roll to Prez.
“Bill Forester's teenage daughter skipped town for a few days. And, course, there was Danny.” A look of sadness falls over his face when he thinks about the deputy he lost. Danny Foster was a friend of the club’s too. He was all set to take over from Roswell when he retired. I didn’t think it had been so long ago that it happened.
“Where did you find Danny again?” I question. I was here the day he came and broke the news to Abby, her and Danny had a thing going, and the girl still ain’t over losing him.
“Back of Dillon’s bar, and I’m gonna catch the person responsible,” he slams his fist down at the table.
“It was him.” I sink down into the seat behind me as a cold chill shudders over me.
“You wanna clue me in?” Prez looks between us, confused.
“Tawk just told me that Shaniya witnessed something happen in town a few months ago. She saw someone get murdered. The guy who did it knew she’d seen him and he let her go… he was wearing a mask.”
“Holy Shit,” Jessie sighs.
“Let me get this straight.” Prez rubs the bridge of his nose. “You're telling me this guy, whoever he is, deliberately targeted your bitch because she’d seen him kill Foster?”
“Hell if I know, but it’s all a bit too convenient,” I point out, hoping this is gonna lead to something. Killing the men that hurt Shaniya ain't nearly fed all the hatred inside me.
