That was different for me.
Hurting people and stealing things was usually about the euphoric release of it all. There was no vindication, no vengeance or justice in what we did.
It was just fun.
But this wasn’t fun. This was about Cassie, and I heard again the words she’d spoken through sobs that day in the kitchen.
Did you know that it took twelve hours for the rescue team to find the car? That Bram was trapped inside with our dead parents, wondering if he was going to die too?
And then the rest of it: that she was alone, that she couldn’t even talk to Bram because he was so fucked up about it.
I hit Travis Dorsey again without thinking and his head fell all the way forward, his eyes closed.
Lights out.
Hawk swore. “We’re trying to get information here.”
I held my finger against Dorsey’s neck and felt the erratic beat of his pulse. “He’ll wake up. Eventually.”
Vigo paced the room, spotted a baseball bat by the door, and picked it up.
He took a few practice swings, then crossed the room to where Hawk still had Dorsey pinned to the wall.
“Don’t be?— ”
It was all Hawk got out before Vigo swung at Dorsey’s left knee.
His head snapped up, his mouth open in a scream of pain as his legs buckled.
He gasped for air, held up by nothing more than Hawk’s hand around his throat.
“Good news,” Vigo said. “He’s awake.”
I grabbed Dorsey by the hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look at us. “We can do this all day. Or you can save your other knee — and quite possibly your teeth — by telling us what you were really doing on the mountain that night.”
He hesitated and Vigo lifted the bat, took another practice swing.
“Okay, okay!” Dorsey said. “Fuck! It was a long time ago. Just give me a minute.”
“You’re all out of minutes,” Hawk said. “Talk or we’re going to work on that other knee.”
“And the teeth,” Vigo reminded him. “Don’t forget about the teeth.”
“And the teeth.” Hawk glanced at Vigo. “Happy?”
“Just trying to be accurate,” Vigo said.
“What happened on the mountain?” I growled.
Bram took good care of Cassie. Had set her up in the coffee shop and the cute little apartment above it. But this was something we could do for her.
And by god we were going to do it.
Vigo lifted the bat, a maniacal shine in his eyes, one I knew all too well. It was a shine that said fuck it, let’s just tear this place — or this person — apart and see what happens.
“Okay, okay!” Travis said. “I was paid to do it.”
Vigo froze, the handle of the bat in one hand, the top of it in the other. “Paid by who?”
