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She and Layla were friends. Allora was planning a baby shower for her. They talked all the time. It doesn’t make sense that she would go from excitedly planning her future to suicide.
I watch as Silver, Metal, and a group of leather-clad bikers pull up to the building.
Jesus, Metal looks rough. Like he hasn’t eaten or showered in days.
I guess I can’t blame him.
Death is never easy.
Suicide is even worse.
Believing that someone may have killed the woman he loved has to be devastating.
Allora and Metal have known each other since middle school, and he’s one of the only members of the club she has a relationship with, other than her father. She doesn’t want anything to do with that lifestyle, and I don’t blame her, but today she seems oblivious to everything but her friend’s pain.
“I don’t know what to say to him,” Luna says, coming to stand beside me as we wait for everyone to come in. Silver said he and his officers wanted to talk to us about something.
“I don’t think it’s about what we say—it’s more about just being present. Supportive. In whatever way he needs.”
“Death makes me uncomfortable.”
“I think it makes us all uncomfortable. Unfortunately, I’ve seen enough to where I just do my best to grieve in private while offering support to whomever needs it.”
She nods. “I guess so. I mean, I don’t really know him, and I only met her a few times. She was just so young…”
“Yeah.” I stare out at the water, thinking about the men I lost in combat. The men I killed in combat. So many of both. Sometimes I wonder how I managed to get out of there physically unscathed.
“Do you ever think about dying?” she asks quietly.
“I used to,” I admit. “When I was in the Middle East. Now, I just put one foot in front of the other. No point in thinking about that kind of thing.”
“I went through a dark time in my life when I thought about death a lot. For a while, I think I wanted to die because I couldn’t deal with the stress.”
“But you got through it.”
“I did.”
Our eyes meet, and I feel that same pull to touch her, hold her, let her and the rest of the world know she belongs to me. Because she does. She just doesn’t know it yet.
“Guys, we’re gonna get started.” Daniil motions to us and we all make our way into the conference room.
“What’s going on?” I ask once we’re settled.
“It’s not good.” Silver is quiet for a beat. “Another one of our girls was found dead this morning.”
“Another one?” Allora breathes, her face tightening with worry. “Who?”
“Desi.”
“She’s been around forever,” Allora says, frowning. “She’s about a decade older than me. I didn’t know her well, but she was a club bunny for a long time and then started turning tricks.”
“Preliminary info I got from my contact at the police department is that it was another overdose,” Silver adds, his jaw tightening.
“What?” Allora shakes her head. “Desi never did drugs. She barely drank. Everyone used to tease her about it.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said too.” Silver rests his forearms on the table. “This doesn’t feel right. I’m not the paranoid type but two of our girls, less than a week apart.”
“So two sex workers, both affiliated with the club, overdosing under mysterious circumstances,” I say thoughtfully. “This looks like a pattern. With just Layla, it could have gone either way, but this is problematic.”
