“You sure that’s a good idea?”
“It’s my only idea.”
I can sense the wheels turning in Sander's head. “You think he’s the one?”
“I don’t, but he is the only one I know who has tattoos like that. I think someone’s trying to make it look like him, and I need to know who.”
“Why don’t I go, and you stay with Salena?”
I consider it. Sander can get the information I need. But I need to be sure. I need to look into his eyes when I tell him Lola is dead.
“No, I want to go. I need to speak to him myself.”
“Okay, when do you want to leave?”
“Give me thirty minutes.”
We hang up, and I dial Kai. He answers on the first ring. “Hey, Logan, how is she doing?”
“She’s still sleeping, but I need you here. I have to go do something.”
“Sure, I’ll be there in ten.”
I walk back inside and take a seat on the edge of the bed, reaching up to run my fingertips across Salena’s soft cheeks. Her face is still red and puffy from crying, and her hair’s a knotted mess from drying in bed. I’m not used to caring for someone like this. Her heartache is like my own, sharp and deep.
Lola was a sweet young girl with her whole life ahead of her. This time, the killer didn’t target someone who resembled Salena. This time, it was someone she loved.
Sander and I saunter through The Den's back door, the dimly lit hallway illuminating our path. Sander seems extremely on edge, almost as if his hackles are raised. He’s gone to make a call to his friend Lukas from Portland. Apparently, Lukas knows of Reaper and needs to be made aware of what’s happening. I’m not sure why, but I never question my friend.
There’s a young woman standing at the bar cleaning glasses when we enter. Her eyes instantly whip to us, and she frowns. “What are you doing in here?”
She has short pixie cut blue hair and piercings all over. Her dark black makeup is thickly applied to her eyes and lips, making her blue eyes stand out, even from where I’m standing.
“We are here to see Reaper.” I flash my badge.
Before she can answer, Reaper appears at the top of the stairs leading to the upper level. “Up here.”
I share a look with Sander before we make our way up the stairs.
Reaper guides us to a table at the back of the room. He cracks his knuckles, his eyes on me as we settle into our chairs. “What do you want now, detective?”
I don’t waste time with pleasantries. I’m in a bad fucking mood.
“Where were you last night?” I growl, my fist clenching on the table.
Reaper’s eyes drop to my hands, and he frowns. “Here.”
“One of Salena’s pack was killed last night,” Sander says, leaning in.
My brows slam down at his choice of words. Pack?There’s something in his voice, something I’ve never heard before. Almost animalistic.
Reaper’s head rears back. “The fuck?”
“Lola. She was onlysixteen. Any idea who would do something like that?” I ask.
Reaper’s brown eyes go hard as he stands abruptly. He starts pacing in front of the table, muttering under his breath before turning on us. His hands slam down on the table.
“Someone fucking killedLola?!”he snarls, half crazed. “I’ll fucking rip them to shreds. I may not have gotten Salena, but I would never hurt . . . ” he trails off, shaking his head.
