Dylan hands DJ to Rachel and then takes my hand.
The gesture surprises me so much that I don’t even pull away.
What the hell is he doing? Why is he acting like he cares?
The three of us sit down, and no one says anything. In the past, I’d trip over myself to ask about Ryder or compliment an item on Sly’s desk, but now I just stare at my knees.
I remind myself I’m doing this for Hawk. I’m his only chance.
“So… what the fuck happened?”
“Prez,” Dylan and I start speaking at the same time, only I’m calm.
“At the New Year’s party, I… I wasn’t feeling well, and I was missing Junior, so I went out to call Susan and see how he was doing, maybe get some air. That didn’t help, so I thought I’d ask for a ride home. When I got to the guard booth, it was empty. Then, someone pulled a shirt or something over my face, and I was led to a vehicle.”
I clasp my hands together and press until my fingers are white. Talking about this is harder than I’d thought. I decide to focus on the facts as much as possible and to ignore how it felt.
I imagine I’m telling Hawk about it.
“There were two kidnappers, but they wore ski masks the whole time. We were held in a room that had a skylight but no windows. There was a man with me. His name was Hawk. He was your age, maybe,” I tell Sly. “He’s a member of a motorcycle club out in Phoenix.”
I don’t miss the way Prez glances at Dylan. “Did he tell you the name of the club?”
I shake my head. “But he asked me to call Blue Security in Phoenix and ask for Squid, and to tell them where he is.”
Prez stares at the wall as he keeps toying with a coaster on his desk. “Did the kidnappers tell you anything about who sent them?”
“They said the Preacher would come see me very soon.”
Prez drops the coaster, and Dylan stops breathing.
“Are you sure that’s what they said?”
I nod. “And I met him, I think.”
“The Preacher? You’ve met this man?” The Prez types on his laptop and then turns it toward me to show me a very grainy surveillance image of the good-looking man who spared my life.
I nod again.
“What the fuck, Marissa?” Dylan asks suspiciously, and it pisses me off.
“You should be asking Rebel that,” I retort, annoyed, “Since she was the one he actually wanted.”
Shit!
Both men look very pale and worried, which makes me feel a little better about my big mouth.
“Hold on. What do you mean he wanted my sister?”
I sigh. Damn it to hell. “When the Preacher saw me, he started yelling at the kidnappers that they had the wrong woman. Then he told me that Rebel had stolen from him and that he wanted to talk to her. And since I’m no thief, he let me go,” I finish with a shrug.
“Yeah, I guess he wouldn’t be worried about you identifying him to anyone. He’s untouchable,” Dylan says, and Prez looks unbelievably angry.
“I’m going to kill Bell,” he snarls.
“Let’s hear her out first, Prez. I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for all this,” Dylan says, and I almost vomit a little in my mouth.
“Can you please make the call first?” I ask, ready to be done with them. “Or give me my phone, and I’ll do it myself,” I turn to Dylan.
