Once in front of it, I dropped to my knees gracelessly, fumbling to turn the water on. As soon as it came out, I tried to cup water in my hands, ignoring how it burned the cuts on my fingers and wrists as I eagerly scooped liquid into my mouth. Frustrated by my shaky movements, I lowered my mouth directly to the spout and took greedy gulps of water.
Once my thirst was sated, I let the water run over my arms and hands as I quickly tried to rinse the blood off of me. I tried to clean myself up the best I could, scrubbing up to my elbows. I shut the water off, and once again, stood slowly, trying to stay conscious despite the spots dancing in the corner of my eyes any time I moved too fast.
Inching my way further, I came up against the opposite wall from where I started. I eyed the door to the infirmary, thinking that if it was unlocked, I could at least grab a blanket or something to keep me warm. The door was only a few feet away, but I was exhausted. I slumped down to the floor, needing a break feeling both dizzy and nauseated from drinking too much water at once. Reaching up, my hands slid around the doorknob, blood making it difficult to grasp the knob properly. After a few minutes, it was evident the door was indeed locked and I would have to wait for someone to find me.
Bloody streaks and fingerprints littered the formerly pristine walls, measuring the distance I had traveled from where Crow left me. I was shivering again, my clothes wet from my hasty use of the water faucet. The room felt too bright. The lights were blinding, and starting to give me a headache. I pulled the skirt down my legs, wadding it into a ball to rest behind my head.
Lying flat on the floor, I used the wet fabric as a makeshift pillow, unable to keep my eyes open at the moment. I needed to rest, just a little, then I would get back up, figure out what else I could use in the room. I kept telling myself to get up, willing my body to move, but my limbs were not responding. I hovered, somewhere between asleep and awake, conscious and unconscious.
My mind urged my body to do one thing, but my body wilfully disobeyed. I imagined myself standing tall and pacing the room, finding a way to escape or gaining access to a weapon. In reality, I was on the cold floor, shivering and gasping for breath. Something as simple as blinking caused pain to shoot through my head and dizziness to rack my body. The room felt like it was spinning, and I couldn’t tell up from down. I closed my eyes once more and let myself relax, giving in to the darkness invading my vision.
Chapter 26
Bash
In retrospect, trying to find a drug dealer at his usual haunts the morning after Halloween wasn’t the greatest idea. We started at the strip club that was obviously not open, but managed to track down a manager. From there, we were directed to the bartender who gave us a name for the dealer—Toad.
With that morsel of information, we hadn’t gotten much further. Keys was back at the clubhouse searching social media for any sort of photos that would give us an idea of what this guy looked like. As the college town started waking up, we were able to question students and employees around town.
Most of them were not comfortable with three bikers cornering them when they were hungover, demanding they hand over their drug connection. Despite assurances we weren’t cops, several hours had passed, and we weren’t much closer to a real name.
Finally, Keys called us with identification. Toad, AKA Kyle Walker, was a twenty-seven-year-old townie who still lived with his mother. Excited that we had finally located the guy, I sent my girl a text to check in.
Bash: Shouldn’t be gone much longer. Will grab lunch on the way back. Let me know what you’re in the mood for. Love you.
Sliding the phone into my pocket, we walked up to a dilapidated house. It wasn’t even noon, and there we were,standing at the door, banging it down. A tired and confused-looking woman opened it and wilted.
“What did he do this time?” she asked with a beleaguered sigh.
“We just need to ask him some questions. He home?” I replied, grateful that we had finally tracked down our lead. The woman sighed as she shook her head before turning toward the staircase visible behind her.
“KYLE! GET YOUR ASS UP HERE RIGHT NOW,” she bellowed as she stepped inside the house to let us in. The three of us walked through the entryway and hovered near the door leading down to the basement.
An overgrown man-child came stumbling up the stairs, smelling of weed and BO. His hair was long, and his clothes had a variety of mysterious stains and holes. His bloodshot eyes and slow movements were clear indications he was currently stoned.
“Ma, what the fuck?” he whined, his voice dropping an octave once he caught sight of us.
“Ma’am. Why don’t you have a seat, and we’ll talk to Kyle out back. I promise, he is not in any trouble. We just need to talk to him. We’re sorry to bother you on such a beautiful day.” Guard ushered the woman over to the couch, getting her settled before leaving her in the living room to join the rest of us outside. Standing in the small backyard, the three of us watched Kyle squirm, waiting for one of us to start speaking.
“I didn’t do anything. You got nothing on me.” I rolled my eyes, ignoring the bullshit he was spouting. I pulled up Trish’s driver’s license photo and showed it to him, and he paled.
“You know this woman?” I asked, and his eyes shifted, avoiding my face.
“Maybe. I mean, is she—are you guys, like, dating?” he replied, sweat visibly beading on his forehead.
“No. We’re just trying to find her. Now, do you know her?”
“Yeah, I know Trish. But we’ve only hooked up a few times, I swear,” he rushed to spit out. He was getting twitchy now, unable to stand still under our gazes.
“When did you see her last?” I asked casually.
“I don’t know. A few weeks ago? I had just gotten some new product, and she wanted to try it out. She stole a bunch of my shit while I was asleep, and I haven’t seen her since,” he grumbled out, his cheeks turning red as he revealed that Trish had fucked him over as well.
“Give us your phone. Show us your messages and any numbers or apps you communicated with her on,” Bull demanded, holding a giant palm out while he dialed Keys on his own phone. Realizing it was a dead end, I sighed and stepped away to call Reaper.
From the corner of my eye, I watched as a very nervous-looking Toad pointed out his conversations and saved contact information for Trish so Bull could relay the info to Keys.
After a few rings, Reaper answered.
