Joker’s right. Chloe and I were no one to Hangman, but he stepped in before Chloe died and then after she was gone, took me under his wing when I was falling apart. He also helped me find eight men to kill, then recruited me into the Jury. I owe him everything.
“I haven’t forgotten what he did for me,” I say through gritted teeth. “But I can’t trust that he wasn’t behind this. We all know Hangman won’t shirk on a favor.”
“No he won’t, but this is bullshit.”
“I think so too,” I reply. “But give me this, brother. Hangman don’t have to know what’s going down. I can’t go in there alone though. I need some muscle.”
Joker looks past me to Reaper. “You gonna get his back?”
Reaper nods. “But I think we need a couple of other brothers. Show of support.”
Joker scrunches his face and squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them, he says, “Okay. I’ll go too. Stark’s here. He can come.”
“Thanks,” I reply.
“If it is Hangman who set this up, Kozlov will rat us out to him. And he’s gonna go ballistic. You better think fast, motherfucker. You’re puttin’ us all on his hit list.”
Reaper checks his gun. “Stark can be on a need-to-know basis. Then it’s just the three of us.”
“That makes me feel a whole lot better,” Joker sneers.
Joker’s right. I’m fuckin’ this up whether Hangman’s behind it or not.
I borrow a bike. Rocky’s Dyna Street Bob. He’s a family man now driving a Ford Expedition SUV more than he rides. Not as powerful as mine, but straddling it, revving it, barreling towards Reno, puts me in the right head space. I feel in control, like I could conquer the world.
When we get to the Grand Sierra, we stride through the lobby like we own the place. A thrill I don’t usually feel seeps through me as people scurry out of our path or look at us with curiously. I’d barely notice this shit any other day, but today, it bolsters me. Gives me courage to face the fact that I might be too late. That Selkie could be dead.
And then what the hell would I do? She’s been under my skin since that day in Mrs. Summers office. I gotta know if it’s real.
We crowd into the elevator and head up to Kozlov’s suite. One of the Russians we saw yesterday greets us with hostility. “What’d you want?”
“Here to see Kozlov,” Joker says.
“You got an appointment?” the Russian sneers.
“Yeah,” I say as I slam my fist into his jaw. He drops like a brick.
“Fuck,” he groans, then passes out.
We step over his body and stride into Kozlov’s suite. Kozlov is sitting in the same chair he sat in yesterday and to my relief, Selkie is sitting on the couch leafing through what appears to be a Maxim magazine. Three of Kozlov’s goons race into the living room, guns pulled. We yank out our pieces and aim at them. We’re at a standoff until Kozlov waves his hand lazily. “Put them away. All of you.”
In the meantime, Selkie tosses the magazine onto the coffee table. “Thank god you’re here. Kozlov was boring me to death.”
Joker glances at me and shakes his head. “I can’t believe you got me into this.”
“Did you come to save me?” Selkie asks me.
“Yes.”
“Oscar got to you then. I told him to wait in the car, but he seems to have a hero complex.”
“Shut up!” Reaper snaps at her. I want to break his neck for his disrespect, but he’s right. She doesn’t need to share personal shit with the Russians.
She glares at him, then flicks her eyes to me. “I need to get Henri.” She looks at Kozlov as she stands. “Thanks for the vodka.”
“Sit down,” Kozlov says to her.
She doesn’t move.
