“I know what I’m doing, okay? I get how fucked up this is, but I’m gonna help fix it.”
I nod, turning to grab my keys and my wallet. “We should go.”
When we’re back in the car and heading in the direction of Naterville, I keep one eye on Wraith as he taps out messages in his texting app. After a few minutes, his phone rings and he scrunches his nose.
“Hey, Carn, what’s up?” he says. He nods, glancing at me before turning away slightly to face the window. “Yeah, I’m working. Nah, I’m good. You guys okay?”
I can hear a muffled masculine voice on the phone, and when he laughs, Wraith chuckles too.
“Good for you,” Wraith says. “Enjoy. I’ll probably be out late.” He pauses, grinning as his gaze shifts briefly to me. “Maybe. Don’t worry about it.” He chuckles again, shaking his head. “Good night, Carnage.”
When he ends the call, I watch him slide his phone into his pocket, noticing the glint of the metal in his holster. He carries a gun around like it’s no big deal.
“One of my brothers,” Wraith says in explanation. “He’s hitting a club looking for a hookup and invited me along.”
“So you’re missing out?”
“I was never missing out, Bouche.” He puts his hand on my thigh again, but I flinch and move away slightly. He sighs but removes his hand. “You wanted to beat my ass earlier, didn’t you?”
“Yep. Thought about it before I knew you had a gun.”
“But?”
“I’m only violent on the ice.”
“Fair.”
“Hey, how’d you get a gun past security at the arena?”
“I have my methods.”
Cryptic. Maybe it’s better if I don’t know.
We make it to the correct exit and I take it, looking left and right for the shitty motel.
Wraith points ahead to the left. “That has to be it. There’s a gas station and a small store across the street.”
“Yeah, that looks like it.”
I navigate to the parking lot, choosing a spot next to a newer sedan with rental stickers on the bumper. This is it. I have to put all my faith in a man who’s confessed to being a killer and trust him with my brother’s life. Please don’t let me be wrong about this.
Wraith walks beside me, up the crumbling concrete steps to the third level. The air smells like stale beer and weed, with a hint of piss and maybe even mold. Boone deserves better than this.
I stop in front of room 302 and knock. Rustling behind the door makes me feel better that he’s checking before he opens it.When he does, his face lights up, but only for a second before he sees Wraith.
“Oh, fuck no,” he says, cocking his fist before I can intervene. “You’re one of them.” In a flash, his fist lands across Wraith’s right cheek, sending him stumbling backward into the railing.
Wraith holds his hands up, apparently taking the punch in stride. “I’m not. I can explain though. Can we come in?”
Boone’s eyes shift to me and I nod solemnly. “Please, Boone. We can trust him.”
I look at Wraith, my eyes begging him to prove me right. He nods, his lips tilted up in a soft smile.
“I’m only here to help,” Wraith says. “Please.”
Boone steps back to let us enter, and as I close the door behind us, I exhale slowly, hoping that by morning, somehow this situation will be fixed.
And I have to trust the guy hired to kill my brother for that to happen. Do I have excellent taste in men or what?
