“I don’t,” I said, voice firm. “I want to help. If we find Ryan, I might be able to talk some sense into him.”
“Figured you’d say that.” He sighed and raked a hand through his dark hair. “Then how about you and a couple of my brothers head over and talk to Teddy?”
“I’ve tried,” I replied with a sigh. “He’s too scared to say anything. Probably promised Ryan he wouldn’t.”
“Why is he not as integrated with this crew as Ryan?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me anything.”
“Maybe with Rhino gone he’ll be more willing. Either way, we need to try again.”
I nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”
“Good.” He smiled at me.
Fighting back the urge to just melt in my chair, I watched as he cooked us breakfast. I wasn’t a religious person, but somehow, something had sent this man in my direction. How else could I have ended up meeting someone who would so willingly help me in this messed up situation?
This wasn’t normal for anyone. I could probably approach one hundred men on the street and ask them to help me and tryto explain and one hundred of them would probably hand me over to an insane asylum. Not OD. He’d taken one look at Rhino and shoved him into the back of an SUV.
How was it possible to have found someone like him? The odds were slim, but I was just damn grateful.
He set a plate in front of me and sat with his own and we ate breakfast together as though we hadn’t just killed a man together last night. As though we weren’t going to go off later today to play detective and figure out a mystery. When had my life gotten so weird?
CHAPTER 11
Overdrive
“Bro’s name should have been pig,” Kilo said in disgust as we walked into Rhino’s apartment. “Who the fuck lives like this?”
“Single guys who weren’t in the military,” Drifter answered.
“No one ever taught them to clean up after themselves,” Strike added, using the toe of his boot to shove over a bowl sitting on the floor.
“Their mommy’s all did it for them,” Bolo said, picking up a dirty fork off the counter in the kitchen and removing a pair of skid marked underwear off the table in the small dining area. He shoved aside some papers, looking for anything that might point us in the right direction.
I spoke to Ruck this morning. He was on his way back, but I was keeping him apprised of the situation here. He was in full agreement that we help Rue out even though he’d never met her.I had a feeling he, like Kilo, had already clocked the fact that this girl meant something to me.
Damn it. I wasn’t the settling down type. That was for my best friend, and I was fucking happy for Kilo, but it didn’t mean that was what I wanted. Only…every fucking time I looked at Rue I wondered if it could be.
“Glitch is checking out the names Rhino gave us,” I told the group as we spread out in the small apartment to look around. Glitch was a friend from Wyoming. He was a part of the Berserker’s Rage MC, an ally club of ours. If anyone could find out who the fuck Boscoe and Glenn were, it would be him.
I took a picture of the name on the mail sitting on the couch and sent it over to Glitch. Frederick White was likely Rhino and anything we could give Glitch to piece this all together was better. Frederick. Wouldn’t have pegged that as the huge fucker’s name.
“Someone should’ve taught him what fucking soap was,” Flir said, his lip curled in disgust. “This place needs to be quarantined.”
I chuckled, knowing that our more than likely, but never diagnosed, treasurer was OCD as fuck, and that this place was killing a piece of his soul just standing in it. It was messy, dirty, and I was pretty sure that the chunk of mold in the corner was moving.
“Do you think-” Relay broke off and we all froze as the sound of a key in the lock interrupted us.
As one, we moved in different directions, getting out of sight, as much as we could in the tiny space, and pulling our weapons.
The man came through the front door, glaring down at his keys as he stepped inside and shut the door. “You missed the shipment this morning, Rhino,” he called out as he fucked with the keys. “Carrick is pissed. He’s going to-” The guy broke off as he looked up and found himself nose to barrel with Bolo’s Glock.
He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around to all of us, but he didn’t speak. So he wasn’t completely stupid.
“Who’re you?” I asked.
“Boscoe,” he gulped in response. His eyes flicked to my weapon. “You friends of Rhino’s?”
