Bree is already tapping away on her cell as she unpacks the first aid kit. She stands. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Fix him up, and I’ll find out what’s gone down.”
“Why do you hate him? What has he ever done to you?”
“He’s not one of the good guys, Ash. He’s not who you think he is.”
“I know him, Ares. Whatever you think he did, you’re wrong.”
He grinds his teeth, and his jaw pulls tight. “Whatever.” He attempts a shrug, grimacing with the motion, and I push our animosity aside again. He’s hurt, and he needs help. I won’t withhold that.
“Where did this happen?” I ask as I drag the wet cloth over his stomach and chest. Most all his other wounds are bruises and minor cuts. I carefully clean the knife wound, but he’s right. It’s not too deep. Still, it will need stitches. I rummage through the first aid kit as he explains.
“There was a big fight between The Bulls and The Sainthood at a warehouse on the outskirts of South Lowell. It was supposed to be a Bulls ambush,” he says, hissing as I attempt to dry the skin around the knife wound.
“Sorry. I need to dry it before I can apply the butterfly bandages.”
“It’s okay. Do what you need to.” He pulls a silver flask from his back pocket. “This will help.”
“Go on,” I encourage as I begin applying the paper stitches.
“I don’t know who double-crossed us, but The Sainthood was waiting for us, and it was a bloodbath. We were fighting,” he pants, pausing for a second to drink from his flask, “hence how I got the injury and then the whole place exploded. Literally thirty seconds before the bomb went off, a group of guys dressed in black grabbed me and Chad and dragged us out of the building. We weren’t fully clear when it detonated, and the blast threw us back. I passed out, coming to as I was being carried into an SUV. I saw Chad; he was crawling away. Then I blacked out again, and the next thing I know, I’m being tossed out on the sidewalk outside.”
“Who planted the bomb?” I ask, applying the last butterfly bandage.
“I don’t know.” He takes another swig from his flask as I wash the cloth in the bowl of warm water and wring it out.
“If The Bulls planned the ambush, it must have been them,” I suggest, carefully cleaning his face.
“Not a chance it was them. It wasn’t The Sainthood either.” He stares off into space. “Both gangs were wiped out tonight, Ash. I doubt anyone but the two of us survived that explosion.”
Icy chills sweep over my body as I consider this was a Luminary kill. I know The Sainthood was selling drugs on campus because my boyfriend was one of the dealers. Now that I know LU is owned by The Luminaries it would make sense. I continue cleaning his face. “Were The Bulls planning to take the campus territory for themselves?” I innocently ask as I grab the rubbing alcohol.
“Yes.”
That’s got to be it. The Luminaries didn’t want gang rivalry on campus, and what better way to eliminate a group of sinners than staging an ambush and having them go at one another so they’re distracted when the bomb goes off? It’s actually genius if I wasn’t so sickened by the loss of life. The finger of blame will be pointed at one of the gangs, so they don’t need to look for any third party. It will be an open and shut case, and no one will mourn the loss of two local gangs except for their loved ones.
I feel Ares’s eyes on my face as I wet some cotton wool with the rubbing alcohol.
“What do you know?”
“Me?” I feign innocence as I dab at the cuts on his face.
He flinches and grabs my hand to stall my movements. “I know you know something. I just saw the look on your face.”
“Ash!” Bree dashes back inside with perfect timing. “Jase found Chad.”
I stand, walking toward my friend. “Where is he?”
“At the cop shop. He’s been arrested.”
ChapterForty-Four
Ashley
“Chad. It’s eleven a.m. Seriously?” I eyeball the beer in his hand wishing I had some magical powers so I could whisk it away.
"Fuck off with the nagging, Ash. I’m not doing this again.” He swings his bare feet up on the coffee table and raises the volume on the TV.
Infuriated at his clear dismissal, I stomp around the couch, grab the remote from his lap, and turn the TV off. I stand in front of him, hands on my hips. “You are throwing your life away, Chad, and I’m not going to sit by and watch it happen.”
