“I’d say as long as he’s been missing, there were lesions around his ankles that suggest he had been tied, but no signs of torture. I’d guess he was tied to something heavy and dumped in the water.”
Wrath drops his head into his fist, and he closes his eyes so tightly, trying to block everything out.
“I’m so sorry. Raze was someone that I never thought I’d see on my table. He was a friend.” When she starts to cry, Sasquatch gets up and surprises us all when he wraps his huge bear-like arm around her shoulders to comfort her.
“You think the same person, who’s been killing those girls, did this to him?” Wrath asks the question we’ve all been wondering.
“I’m not a detective, but if I had to guess, I’d say no. It’s not the same MO. All the other victims have been women; they’d been raped and tortured, in most cases, kept alive for days. The bodies you’ve found before had been placed. Raze ending up here was a coincidence. He could have gotten washed up by that storm anywhere,” she explains.
‘He found his way home.” Wrath’s voice comes out so weak it puts another lump in my throat.
“That’s the way I’m looking at it.” Quinn attempts to smile, but doesn’t quite manage it.
“We need to find out which coward shot our prez in the back of the head.” Dev reaches forward and picks up the evidence bag for himself, examining the bullet through the plastic. “This ain’t our usual enemies.”
“How can you be sure?” Quinn asks, looking confused.
“You think Raze washing up here was an act of God?” Dev looks to her.
“Whoever dumped his body couldn’t have predicted when he’d show up, or even if he ever would. He was left with the intention of never being found,” she confirms.
“You ever come up against an enemy who didn’t want to deliver a message?” Dev questions us all. “The Russians, the Irish…any rival club would want to take credit; they’d want us to know they’d got him. Raze is too big a prize to have been dumped and left to rot.”
I guess what Dev is saying makes sense. I was with him the day we pulled up here and found his brother hanging from the clubhouse gates. He’s right, rival clubs and gangs always make a fuckin’ statement.
“So you think this is personal?” I can see where he’s going with this.
“I don’t know what the fuck it is, but none of us are gonna rest until we find out.” Dev sits back in his chair, staring at the bullet and looking ready to take on the world.
“You should go and lie down, Alicia. You’ve had a shock.” Iris continues to nag me while Freya rolls her eyes.
“I think she probably just wants to hold her baby girl,” she tells Iris politely as she hands me my coffee. It’s been hours since Vike and Greaser left, and Iris has been holding her this whole time.
“You do realize you still need to drink decaf if you’re breastfeeding,” Iris informs me, again.
“Yes, Iris, I am aware.” I smile, hoping the men won’t be much longer at the club. I don’t know how much more of this woman I can take. I’m tired, I’m upset, and I’m worried about my friends. I could really do with some time without her constantly picking at me.
“Have you heard from Peyton or Eden?” I ask Freya, wondering if we should be at the clubhouse with them.
“I spoke to Eden on the phone on our way here. It sounded like she’s holding it together better than Peyton is.”
“She has to.” I look down at my little baby girl, unable to believe that this time yesterday she was still wriggling around inside me. Eden shouldn’t be going through all this grief and pain.
“I don’t know what we’ll do now; how the hell do we get them over this?” Freya can’t hide how unnerved she is.
“We won't get them over it, we’ll get them through it; the same way you all did for me when I lost Saul.” I smile sadly, wishing he were here to meet his niece. He would have loved seeing her and Rory grow up together.
She starts to stir and cry in Iris’s arms, and when I look at the time, I realize it’s time I fed her.
“Iris, you should pass her to me so I can feed her.” I’m a little surprised at how willingly Iris gives her up, and it feels so much better having her back in my arms again.
“Did they show you how to feed her in the hospital? I noticed you had a bit of trouble at the club last night. The trick is to–”
“Iris!” I look down at her hand in shock when she starts to unbutton the shirt of Vike’s that I’m wearing. “I think I can manage.” Forcing her away, I notice the concern on Freya’s face when the woman shakes her head and backs off.
“We don’t want her losing any weight. Eight pounds four ounces is nowhere near as big as my boys were.”
“Eight pounds four is perfect, she’s just the right size,” Freya cuts in.
