“Could be a customer,” Prez grunts. “Someone who frequents The Dollhouse and saw when Shapiro came in.”
I tilt my head to the side and frown. “I don’t think our new friend would objectify women like that.” An orange brow lifts as he looks my way and I shrug. “Even serial killers have moral codes.”
“Proven by his victimology,” Marbles, of all people, says.
“Right…” I shake my head. “But I feel like there’s more to it than that. Like this dude not only has it out for real scum, but he’s laser focused on it like it’s his only mission, and if he fails there’s hell to pay.”
“Which means what, exactly?” Prez takes a swig from his beer. “You think he’s a whacko believing he’s on some holy mission from God?”
“No, not like that. I’m not exactly sure just yet, but I feel like he’s following orders in some way.”
“So, even if he’s following orders, why drop the body at The Dollhouse?”
“Because Tate was wronged there.”
Prez frowns. “But you don’t think he’s a customer.”
“No, I think he’s a Wulven Kings fan.”
Zak nods. “‘Cause of the shit with Blondie.”
I point to our top enforcer. “Exactly. The papers didn’t hide her connection to us at all, just like they didn’t hide those idiot’s connection to the Cobras. And since you’ve all been on Tate detail, sitting on the club, or rolling in and out with her, he could have noticed while he was doing his own thing and put the pieces together after seeing your cuts and shit.” I grin as Doc finally gets Shapiro into a body bag. “I think thisHarvesterfancies himself a kindred spirit of sorts, a Kings super fan because we don’t dabble in the shit other clubs do, don’t treat women like property or shit, and he respects us for it. At the very least, he’s possibly connected to someone with that line of thinking, someone who possibly knows us. And leaving a piece of shit like Shapiro at what he sees as Kings’ territory was a message.”
“What kind of message?” Jackal asks.
“The kind we shouldn’t ignore.” The kind I’m going to figure out, because having someone like that on our side could be ridiculously beneficial.
I have a feeling this serial killer is right up my alley, and having another brain that works the way mine does—in terms of tracking and morals and shit, I’m not quite on his level with the kills—could play a critical role in finding and eliminating the threat being posed to my dark angel.
And as soon as her and I have a very seriousheart-to-heartabout all this shit, I’ll be tracking myself aharvesterand getting him on the payroll.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
TATE
With a sigh,I turn my pencil over and start aggressively erasing all of my answers on the page in my lap. “Who the hell needs science anyway?”
“Scientists.” Elias smirks as I give him a defeated sigh. “And probably some other people but I couldn’t tell you who, I just know it’s important to some portion of the population.”
“Well, it isn’t to me. I could give a rat’s ass about chemistry or physics.” I glance down at the page again then frown before I tear it from my notebook, wadding it up immediately and tossing it with the rest of the crumpled pages on the floor. “I’m sure I didn’t need it when I was younger and I definitely don’t need it now. It’s not like I’m running experiments in between working the pole.”
My friend sets aside the textbook in his lap. “That would be a pretty great gimmick though. The sexy albeit nerdy scientist creating a love potion to captivate the audience but she uses it to get them to give her all their money.”
I roll my eyes then frown.
Elias isn’t wrong about that, it would be a pretty interesting performance for one of the girls I’m sure, but it’s not for me.
Just like science isn’t for me.
Neither is math.
Hell, most of the crap I’m studying in order to get my GED isn’t for me and it’s another reason to hate Gino as much as I do.
At one point, his father had said they’d hire a private tutor for me because hedidn’t want his son’s wife looking stupidoat various gatherings, but that never happened. I haven’t been to school since the fifth grade, haven’t learned anything academically since then, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to read all the books Dori loans me if I hadn’t been forced to read to Gino’s Nona while I took care of her.
An actual, real education never happened, but neither did legally marrying Gino Valetti, so I can’t be too upset about the way things went.
Fuck that.
