I can’t afford to be stopped right now.
The sooner I get to the Caterpillar, the better.
Rouge knows. Rouge knows.
She doesn’t know everything, but she knows enough.
And sister or no sister, she won’t let me live with the knowledge of her dark deeds.
She certainly won’t let Harrison off the hook.
I shouldn’t have stayed at the Gilded Rose so long. I should have said “to hell” with the suitcases and just retrieved my car. I wasted fifteen precious minutes grabbing them and then listening in to Rouge’s conversation with the cop.
I got some important intel, I suppose.
Had I not listened in, I wouldn’t be aware of how urgent everything is. I certainly wouldn’t be going as fast as I am down the highway.
I slam on the brakes and lay on the horn as I nearly hit some old man going ten under. I quickly move around him, catching his middle finger in my rearview as he disappears into the distance.
I can’t blame him. I’m driving erratically.
Harrison is probably wondering where the hell I am. I should have gotten to the hotel ten minutes or so after he did. By the time I get there, he’ll have likely been there a half hour.
Has someone tried to kill Jack by now? Have they tried to do away with him, dismember him right then and there? Have—my heart clenches—they done something similar to Harrison when he came to Jack’s defense?
Jack is an average height, but he’s got a terrific build. He’s in the gym five times a week, has been since I met him. He’s got a fantastic chest and arms, nearly as impressive as Harrison’s.
The two of them can hold their own against a King. They’re built like linebackers, but they’re not completely invulnerable. But if all four Kings are there? Hardly a fair fight.
I wish I could call him. Make sure he’s okay, tell him to get the hell out of there. But his phone is in his suitcase, which is in my trunk.
I slam my foot against the gas. I’m nearly going a hundred now. I finally see the Forest Park exit. I take it and swing around the bend—nearly rolling the vehicle over in the process—and land in the Caterpillar Hotel parking lot. I’m the only car here, but fuck discretion.
We don’t have time.
30
HARRISON
I take a step back. “Ray?”
Ray grimaces, spitting out a wad of mucus and blood. “How dare you call me that, Ace? How dare you even speak to me in the first place?”
“No. I’m not a card. I’m just in disguise. It’s me. Harrison O’Rourke.” I swallow. “Harry O’Rourke.”
Ray drops his jaw slowly as it dawns on him. “What the fuck?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” I say, hoping that “old times’ sake” is more than just an expression. “Your old pal.”
He narrows his eyes. “Hardly an old pal. You ditched me after that night at the Dimpsey house.”
Jack stands over Ray, his eyes widened. “I’m sorry. You two know each other?”
I nod. “We were members of the same gang in middle school. Called it the Club.”
“Very original,” Jack retorts.
“We were kids.”
