“Before someone hears that,” Tenny said, disgusted.
~*~
“You sure you’re alright?” Carter asked. For the fourth time, at least.
“Dude, you sound like my mom. Chill,” Elijah said, chuckling. He’d been in an uncharacteristically giddy mood since the van drove off a few minutes ago, headed for the clubhouse with their prisoner secured in the back under Fox’s watchful eye. Post-adrenaline rush, Carter figured.
“Yeah, well, excuse a guy for worrying.”
That inspired another laugh, a deep belly laugh that had Elijah clutching his stomach.
“I like you better when you’re grouchy.” Carter refused to call his tone bitter.
Ghost joined them, standing in a shadowed corner of the parking lot beside Elijah’s car. “You did good, kid,” he said, clapping Elijah on the shoulder.
Elijah’s laughter cut off immediately. He went wide-eyed, looking at Ghost like he was a celebrity – or an actual ghost, more like. It wasn’t exactly admiration in his gaze, or the faint tremor of his voice. “Sir.” He fished into his pocket. “Here. The money you gave me to use.” He offered the stack of cash.
“Keep it,” Ghost said, and Elijah’s eyes got impossibly wider. “Consider it returning the favor.” He gave him another light slap on the shoulder and drew back. “I’ll let Carter keep you in the loop if there’s anything you need to know.” He headed off for his truck, parked several spaces down.
“He’s my ride,” Carter said. “I should go.”
Elijah was still staring at the money in his hands, and lifted his head. “He’s for real? I can keep this?”
Carter grinned. “See? The club’s not all bad.”
Elijah released a deep breath and tucked the cash back in his pocket. “What’s gonna happen to that guy? Fred?”
“We’ll ask him some questions. Figure out where to find Ricky, and where to find the girls.”
“Ask him questions,” Elijah said flatly. Full of doubt.
“Do you really want the dirty details?”
He made a face. “No.” He sighed. “You really think you’ll find Allie and Nicole?”
“I hope so.” Carter knocked him lightly in the shoulder with a closed fist, and it didn’t inspire the same shock and awe that Ghost’s touch had. He was trusted; it felt good. “Get home. Keep a watchful eye.” He didn’t tell him that Hound and Rottie would be parked in front of his house all night to keep an eye out. No sense terrifying the poor kid.
~*~
Fred turned out to be white, blond, and in his early thirties. He had the physique of a former athlete gone soft, and the piggish nose of overbred Southern Old Money; the flushed cheeks, the colorless lashes. “Oughta be a football coach with a face like that,” Ghost told him, before he left the garage and left their hostage in Mercy’s very capable hands.
That had been an hour ago. Carter wasn’t sure why he’d stayed – he was sipping the whiskey Fox had brought him to keep his stomach from getting too jumpy. He guessed it was something about Mercy praising him, Ghost praising him; stepping up, again. If he was going to be a member of this club, he couldn’t keep shying away from the unsavory aspects of it. In meant all in…even when Mercy was doing what he did best.
Walsh was on secretary duty, as usual. He sat on a work bench, clipboard in one hand, pen poised with the other. His expression was weary, with only the faint lines on his brow to indicate any disgust in the proceedings. “If you’ll cooperate, all of this can stop,” he said, not for the first time. “I honestly don’t understand why we’re going through this whole charade. Give us Ricky, give us the girls, and the pain will stop.”
Fred sat slumped in the chair he was taped to, head hanging, sweat-soaked hair falling across his forehead. A long, sticky line of blood dripped down off his lower lip, and finally landed with a wetsplaton the floor with the rest of it.
Mercy laced a hand in his hair and lifted his face; eyes glassy, face etched with a numbing kind of pain. Blood trickled over his lower lip, and ran down his chin. “I took the back ones,” Mercy said, almost sweetly, his voice low like a purr. “Fuck around anymore, and I’ll take the front ones, too. Good luck charming teenagers with dentures.”
His mouth moved, and he murmured something unintelligible, the blood bubbling between his lips.
“What was that?” Mercy lifted the pliers again.
“No,” Fred choked out, voice slurred, mouth full of blood. “I’ll…okay…okay…”
Mercy kept hold of his hair, and used it to turn his head so he faced Walsh.
Carter took another sip, dimly aware of Reese and Tenny walking circles around the edges of the light, like circling sharks moving in opposite directions.
