She sighs and she looks tired. “Nothing. I just… Jesus, I just got some news this morning. It’s not a big deal. Test me if you want.”
She stares at me, unflinching, and here in the shitty lighting of the communal bathroom she just looks… young. Really fucking young and scared, as if the shaking has everything to do with some danger she’s facing and nothing to do with a high.
My patience with this whole fucking thing is wearing thin.
“There’s a lot of shit that ain’t adding up about you, Angel. You wanna start being fucking honest about it?”
The tremors get worse.
She’s standing there staring right through my eyes and into my soul, and shaking like a fucking leaf.
Someone is fucking with this girl and when I find out who the fuck it is I’ll be slitting their fucking throats.
She hesitates and then brushes past me to get to her locker, hunching over the combination a little before she opens it up and pulls out her bag.
Finally the warning bells start to get my fucking attention.
“Is there an asshole boyfriend taking your money? Knocking you around some?”
Angel startles at the sound of my voice like a damn rabbit. My teeth clench at the sight but I try to look a little less fucking pissed. She barely ever talks about herself and never talks about what happens to her when she leaves here so I need her to fucking trust me right now.
The shaking is fucking killing me.
“What? Why?”
Deep breath. “You make double what any other girl here does. All the other girls are pissed over how popular you are so I’ve started keeping tally. You’re on almost ten g’s a week, how the fuck are you still walking around here with a flip phone and a busted ass bag?”
Her eyes drop down to her bag and she curves around it a little more like she can hide its ratty appearance from me now that I’ve started taking notice.
“I don’t have a boyfriend. No one is taking my money from me… except my truck, which needs some work.”
Mel tries to walk in but I stop her with a look, waving her the fuck out. Rue and Speck walk out of the office behind her but when they get an eyeful of me they shut the door, wanting nothing to do with whatever is eating my ass.
Smart.
“Do you owe someone? You got family in the hospital or something? You’re not on drugs, I know a tweaker when I see one.”
She pulls a sweatshirt on over the thin cami she had on, wincing and rubbing at her shoulder a little. She’s worked every other night this week thanks to Farrah’s time off, she’s danced her ass off without a fucking word of complaint over the long hours, and there’s no doubt she’s a little fucking sore. Diamond put her on all of next week too.
I hate her dancing here but it sure does make it easier to keep an eye on her.
“Nope. I’m single, sober, and just trying to survive here, Tomi. Is there anything else you need? I’m really just fucking… beat. I have classes early tomorrow and I’ll be dancing tomorrow to cover Farrah. Please just— please let me go home.”
She slings that shitty bag over her shoulder and pushes the wet tendrils of her hair away from her face. Fuck, what is with this fucking lighting making her look so fucking fragile?
I step aside and let her pass, my mind already planning out exactly how I’m going to tail her carefully the whole fucking way back to her place. I’ll run the address and find out who she lives with, where she grew up, fucking every little piece of her life until she’s not such a mystery to me anymore.
I watch the security cameras until I’ve seen her get into a cab and then I dig my keys outta my pocket, ready to get out and follow her home.
My phone ringing in my pocket stops me.
I think about ignoring it, just fucking forgetting all about my responsibilities at the club but the patch weighs heavy over my shoulders and I answer it, cursing under my breath.
“Get your ass to Mugshots. Grab Rue and Speck, be discreet about it.”
King’s voice is rough but the tenseness of his is radiating down the line. “What the fuck has happened now?”
He grunts down the line. “The whole place was just shot up. Glass and bullets fucking everywhere.”
When we walk into Mugshots it really is fucking torn the hell up.
Rue explodes the second he sees the damage. “Fuck. Fuck! Was anyone hurt?”
King stalks over to us from where he was looking over the bullet casings with Hawk, the crunch of glass loud under his boots.
“Coulson was here but he was out the back, managed to get down the back alley and call me without them fucking seeing him. He’s rattled as hell though, I got Hellion to take him back to the clubhouse for some whiskey.”
Jesus.
“Have the cops been here yet? Any witnesses?” I say, staring at the tens of thousands of dollars worth of damage. The club can afford to cover the costs without even feeling the hit but some asshole is costing us green.
King shakes his head. “We’re keeping the cops outta this. The less eyes on us all the better.”
Rue nods at him and leans down to pick up a shell. “They walked in here and shot the place up. They had to have an in… or this is one helluva coincidence and Coulson has a hit out on him we didn’t know about.”
King shakes his head again, his face fucking sour. “Can’t have been a hit. Everyone knows the bar’s empty by three, it was a fucking fluke that Coulson was even here. He was trying to figure out where the missing money has been going.”
More missing fucking money.
What a mess.
Hawk stalks back over to us. “Tomi, get your ass back to the clubhouse and keep watch on your computer shit for what’s going on here. Someone has gotta say or do something after this. Rue, Speck, grab a broom. We need to get this shit cleaned up before anyone notices the fucking bullet holes.”
I give him a jerk of my head and turn on my heel to get my ass outta there, ready to check fucking everything for a clue over who the hell is responsible for this shit.
The clubhouse is fucking quiet when I get back there, the air heavy with the unknown threat of stray motherfucking bullets. I clap Coulson on the shoulder as I pass by him but he’s already too fucking wasted to notice much that’s going on around him.
I jerk my head at Hellion until he follows me into the hallway. “Did he say much?”
He looks around, his words chosen carefully. “They took down the front door and they didn’t say anything specific. Any leads down there?”
I shrug. “Not really. Just a whole lotta casings.”
He nods and stalks back over to our bartender who’s swaying on his barstool, the whiskey in his hand spilling everywhere as he tries to get the shit down his throat.
I spend the rest of the night going through the security footage… nothing.
I mean, sure, I can see the guys. They’re standing there in our bar wearing black and balaclavas, not a single patch or recognizable feature between the three of them.
I check all of the phones and there’s been phone calls a-fucking-plenty, enough to keep me busy for a few nights going through. I pass out for five hours just to reset and then I head back to The Boulevard with my laptop.
If some asshole is shooting up buildings owned by the MC then there’s no fucking way I’m leaving Angel exposed like that. No fucking way.