“First, we need to put this body somewhere.”
“Blyat,” I murmur. “They already know we did it, and no one is coming. They’re planning something.”
A door opens to the right, just in front of us, and a man meanders out. He’s tall and athletic-looking, but not bulky. He’s wearing an oversized, faded black band t-shirt and ripped, light denim jeans as well as brown work boots with the laces untied. Completely unkempt, if you ask me. A drifter, perhaps—although how did he get in here if he is?
I don’t know. Maybe this man is more than he appears.
My eyes move to his face, and I take in the stubble lining his sharp jawline and dark, narrow eyes. His hair is dark and straight, long enough to hide his eyes.
I don’t trust him. Not entirely.
He glances at the body that Casey is dragging before looking up and staring at the rest of us. No emotions move across his face, only mild interest and a little humor.
“Shit,” Kit murmurs as my hand once more grips the syringe, ready to plunge it into the man’s neck, but I find that won’t be necessary.
The man’s grin widens.
“You trying to hide the body?”
“Yeah,” Casey says. “You have a problem with that?”
“Fuck no. I think it’s a great idea. Better that than leaving him right out in the open.”
“Yeah,” Casey says warily. “Gotta find an unlocked room to stuff him in. You happen to know of any?”
“No. I just arrived, but let me ask you something. Did he deserve it? Scratch that. I’m sure he did. No one here deserves to live.”
“And yet, here we are,” I murmur, making the man laugh.
“Fair one. But I do love a good dead body. Did you know badgers are known to cache or store dead animals to consume them later? Once I’ve racked up a couple, we could cache them together for later. You know about badgers, right? They get hungry, apparently.”
“Why the fuck do we need to know that?” Jax asks, and the man shrugs.
“Just call me a badger then. Not that I want to eat this man—I wouldn’t go that far—but a little decay goes a long way.”
“What the fuck are you trying to say?” Casey demands.
“Let me help. They say there is security here, that they have cameras, but they don’t. It’s a lie.”
“Why the fuck should we let you help us?” Casey asks.
The man flicks his hand around his face. “The fucks who run this place deserve everything they get. Have you seen what they do to the girls in the club?”
We all stare at him, assessing, but finally Casey sighs.
“Fine. You can help as long as you don’t mind getting tangled up in whatever this is.”
“Oh, I don’t. I love a good tangle. Especially with the right kind of people.”
He waits for something, an introduction, perhaps, but none is forthcoming. I couldn’t give two shits who this guy is or why he’s here. He’s interrupting our mission to find Bane, and that, to me, is unacceptable.
Kit steps forward and holds out his hand. “Hey, thanks for being so cool about this. I’m Kit. Nice to meet you.”
The man stares at the outstretched hand and then shakes his head. “No, thank you. I don’t shake hands, but nice to meet you all the same. I’m Fallow. Now, what areyoudoing here? Besides hiding bodies.”
I glance at Casey, who is shoving the body into a closet of some sort, wrestling the door shut.
“We are looking for a man who was taken just minutes ago,” I explain. “Have you seen anything suspicious?”
