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I jumped up and quickly swept her keys into my hand, letting the sleeve of my hoodie drop so they were hidden. I just needed to get into the office and get that file cabinet open. I needed to know if there was a file on my dad, and if so, then I needed to know why Killian was keeping it from me.
I was wrong. I had to be, but…still, I had to be sure.
Bypassing the pantry, and avoiding the main room, I slipped into the hall and then the office and gently shut the door. No one else was up yet, so there wasn’t anyone who would be wandering around the club.
I briskly crossed the office floor and navigated to the right key, then slid it into the cabinet. The drawer opened easily, revealing the remaining files. I thumbed through the last names starting with S, then T, until I was nearing W.
Then my hand stilled.
Witt.
No.
My eyes winded with fear as I tentatively tugged the file out.
No x marked on his file, which meant they were still working with him.
With shaking fingers, I stuffed it under my shirt, and then locked the cabinet back up.
Back in the apartment, I sat on Killian’s bed cross-legged and stared at the folder.
Then I went back through the timeline in my head.
He’d pulled me off the files weeks ago. It was out of the blue…after that meeting with the Chaos Kings.
Had one of them recognized me and outed me? Why did he act like he didn’t know when I told him?
I had to know what was in the file.
I delicately flipped it open. The first thing I saw was a piece of paper with the state seal on it. I read over the paper. It was a way for Simon Stone to bypass certain legal loopholes in obtaining the acres of property that bordered his land. The signature was from fifteen years ago, back when my dad was first elected as mayor of Richland. Dad shouldn’t have had the clearance to offer Simon that sort of deal.
Setting that aside, there was another paper, more legal info about certain products that were pushed through state lines with dad’s approval during his time as governor. There were several sheets where my father signed off on properties, naming their adjacent businesses as nonprofits, and other highly illegal things.
Then there were images.
A political rally where the Stone Riders were surrounding a group of protestors. My dad was on stage, speaking. One image had someone’s face down on the concrete while my dad spoke in the background.
More images came up. These ones were of him with…
Fuck.
A stripper. She had her back to the camera, but he was half-dressed, and you could see my dad clearly about to enjoy whatever she was about to do to him.
Another image was of him in a sexually compromised position with three women in bed.
This was blackmail.
Mutually assured destruction. I flipped through a few more pages when suddenly I stopped.
It was another dated picture of someone shaking my father’s hand during that initial election when my dad had won the mayor ticket. I could see my dad’s face, but the man’s back was to the camera, the only way to identify who he was, was by his leather cut.
My eyes widened as I traced the image of the howling wolf, and then the name etched into the back.
Killian Quinn.
Oh god.
My stomach churned.
