by Voss, Deja
She walks to the door and holds it open for him and he slinks off, looking about six inches shorter than he did on the way in.
When everyone is certain he’s gone, a slow round of applause trickles through the bar and she dramatically curtseys, blowing exaggerated kisses to the patrons.
“You’re something else, Olive,” I laugh. “You’re lucky he didn’t taser your ass.”
“We graduated high school together. He always had a hard-on for me. You think they’re ever gonna get Goob?”
“If he doesn’t stop acting like such a dick, I’ll probably hand him over myself,” I say to her. “He’s got something out for Sloan, and I’m not sure what it is. Him and my dad both. They’re driving me nuts.”
She’s noticeably quiet, and it looks like she’s deep in thought.
“Probably just them being paranoid, right?” I ask.
“Yeah, probably,” she says, but I don’t feel any consolation in her tone. Before I can pry any more, she’s busy refilling draft beers and joking around with the customers.
Whatever. I have plenty of work to do before tonight, and I want to be at camp by the time she gets there. I head back into the office and begin shuffling through stacks of receipts.
“Gavin!” Olive whines. “I think the keg cooler is acting up again.”
“Piece of shit,” I mutter under my breath. It’s always something here.
Chapter 25
Sloan:
By the end of the day, I’m looking forward to spending the night at camp with Gavin more than anything in the world. It took me a few days of fresh air and fun to realize how sheltered I am in this little bubble at the hospital, how much I’ve been missing out on in my life. I like the thought of being an ‘old lady,’ and the idea that there’s someone out there in this world who genuinely cares about me and wants me to be happy is more than I could ever ask for.
Still, something is nagging me. That business card. The visit from Officer Brighton while I was away. I tried to call Gavin earlier and say something to him about it, but I couldn’t. I need to take care of whatever this is by myself and THEN I can take care of the hard part of explaining my past to him. For now, he doesn’t need wrapped up in the law, especially with the slew of felonies I’ve witnessed the last couple of days.
It’s well after midnight by the time I finally hit the parking lot. I pace across the concrete quickly, keys clutched tight. When I get to my car, my blood turns cold. There’s a sheet of paper tucked under my windshield wiper.
“URGENT - CALL ME - SCOTT,” is all it says.
Sure, I ripped up his business card earlier, but it’s not like his number isn’t programmed into my mind. During the whole Arthur situation, it was my saving grace. I had to keep it hidden, keep it memorized, especially as things progressed and I started becoming an informant.
I start up my car, making sure the doors are locked, and sit there with my hands trembling. I have a really bad feeling about what could possibly be going on. I pull out my phone and dial the number, and it only rings once before he picks up.
“Just so you know, we got eyes on you. You don’t have to worry about anything as long as you do as you’re told,” he says, his voice serious. I look out my back window and cringe. I can’t believe I didn’t see the unmarked car parked right behind me. I used to be able to spot them from a mile away. For a while there, I was always being followed.
“What’s going on?” I ask him. “Am I in trouble?”
“You might be in serious danger right now, Sloan. We might even be being listened to right now. I’m going to need you to come to your apartment. I have a full squad here. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
I need to call Gavin and let him know what’s going on. He’s probably already worried that I’m running so late. But what does Scott mean when he says I’m being listened to? Who could possibly be doing it? Does this have something to do with him and his club? I just need to hurry up and get to my place so I can get things straightened out.
As I pull up in front of my apartment complex, I notice Scott’s car already parked outside. It’s not just him, though. There’s at least five other unmarked cars within a stone’s throw. I haven’t seen anything like this since the weeks before Arthur and I’s arrest.
I park my car and edge out slowly, holding my hands up in the air. Better safe than sorry, I suppose. Officer Brighton and Jarvis Smith, a guy I graduated high school with, jump out of his car and run to me.
“You need to get inside now, Sloan,” Scott hisses. “You’re probably being watched.”
I don’t understand who could possibly be watching me, except for them obviously.
We go into the building, both of them hot on my heels.
“Can you please tell me what the hell is going on? Why are you being so cryptic, Scott?”
“It’s Arthur,” he says. “He escaped prison sometime on Tuesday night. He still hasn’t been apprehended, but they confiscated letters from his cell that lead us to believe he could be coming after you.”
My heart starts racing. How could this possibly be? The only thing good about that trial, that nasty part of my life, was knowing that it ended with me being safe from him as long as he was locked up. How could the jail be so incompetent? How could he be so smart to be able to escape?
I’m sure he wants me dead. I’m sure in his mind it’s my fault that he got locked up in the first place. And now, I’m standing in the place where he KNOWS I live. I’m fortunate I’m surrounded by the police, but are we really going to have to go through this all over again? What’s Gavin going to think?
“Did we really have to do this here?” I ask him as I unlock my apartment door. “Couldn’t I just come down to the station or something?”
“Thank you for being so cooperative, Sloan,” Scott says to me, standing over me as I sit on the couch with my head in my hands. “I know this sucks and we would have never in a million years expected this to happen. You probably are better off staying in your apartment until we figure out what’s going on. That way we can keep an eye on you.”
“Why in the world would you encourage me to stay here? I have somewhere much safer
I can be, somewhere he’d never come looking for me, and you want me to stay in the apartment where he BLATANTLY TOLD YOU he was coming to? You guys are just trying to use me as bait, aren’t you?” I hiss, “Because, right now, that’s what it feels like.”
I feel like the wind has been knocked out of my sails. All these years I thought Scott was protecting me, helping me, but right at this moment, I feel like, all along, I’ve been a pawn to help him further his career.
He used my vulnerability to make me think I needed him to be safe, to escape Arthur. Instead of truly saving me, getting me out of that environment before he could abuse me any further, he waited until things got so bad that I could’ve been permanently injured or killed. He left me in that jail cell way too long after promising me I’d be in and out. He turned me into a bad person for his own gain, and I’m beginning to see it all too clearly now.
“I’m sorry, Sloan,” he says. “It’s what you signed up for. You made a promise to help me put him in jail, and now that he’s out, you’re back on the hook.”
“Get out of here,” I scream, not caring what the neighbors think. “I signed up for a clean slate. I gave you everything you needed, and you keep dragging me back to hell. You have nothing on me, Scott. NOTHING. I appreciate the heads-up about Arthur, but you’re going to have to track him down on your own.”
“I knew she was going to do this,” Scott says to Jarvis. “What did I tell you? She’s in on it. She’s probably been helping him plan his escape. Next time I see you, Sloan, I’m gonna have a warrant. I was kind to you last time and didn’t arrest you at the hospital, but I don’t feel like I owe you that luxury this time. Is that who you were hiding out in the woods with tonight, Sloan? You got Arthur there?”
“I thought you were the police officer. And if you were any g
ood at your job, you’d probably have your answer to that question,” I hiss. “Go ahead and get your fucking warrant.”
I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to see his true colors, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. I can’t believe I left Gavin for this nonsense. I can’t believe Arthur is out of prison. My world is crashing down around me and I feel like all the air is being squeezed out of my chest. I lean up against the side of the couch, trying to keep from hyperventilating.
“Get out of my apartment,” I barely gasp. “Get away from me.”
“You’ll be sorry, Sloan,” Scott says, standing over me, using his size to make me feel even worse. “What are you gonna do when he comes after you?”
“I’ll call the real police,” I say. “You and your crooked little buddy get out of my sight right now. And give me my fucking dog back while you’re at it. I thought you were a good man and now I don’t even trust his life in your hands.”
“That dog’s been dead for years now, Sloan. Get over it,” he says, shrugging.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse.
“And you couldn’t even tell me? I thought we were friends! I thought you cared about my well-being. It’s what you’ve said from day one.”
“Sloan, I could give a fuck about you and the corrupt shit you get yourself into. You USED me to get out of trouble for your criminal behavior, and I used you to make a name for myself. That’s how this relationship works, and that’s how it’s always going to work. You send me out of here like this, I can’t promise you that you will be safe.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I say, blinking back tears. “I’d rather live my life looking over my shoulder than owe you anything else.”
Chapter 26
Gavin
I just don’t understand how she could blow me off like this. No phone call, no text, no nothing. I realize her job is unpredictable—for all I know she could be in the middle of an operation—so I try to shake it off, but it’s going on 4 a.m. and I’m starting to get worried.
I try to call her one last time, but her phone just rings and rings. I don’t want her to think I’m some sort of controlling psycho. Maybe I’ll just take a ride to the hospital and see what’s up.
I hop in my truck and make the short drive over to Dixon, slowly circling the parking lot a few times. She’s not there. Every worst-case scenario thought goes through my mind. Is she sick? Is she hurt? Is she with another man?
I instantly make my way to her apartment, pushing the speed to the max the whole time. It’s the middle of the night. The roads are dark and empty. I grip the steering wheel until my knuckles are white, trying to keep my nerves in check. I have to find her, fast.
There sits her car, parked right out front.
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch something even more disturbing.
Then out of the other corner.
I turn my head and look behind me. There’s another one.
This place is surrounded by unmarked cop cars. I can smell them out from a mile away.
What in the actual fuck is going on here?
I get out of the truck, ready to throw down. The anger doesn’t take long to take over, to move me into real Gavin Boden territory. Someone has some explaining to do, and I’m not leaving without an answer.
I know her apartment isn’t exactly in the best part of town, but this seems like overkill. I debate just driving off, waiting for the heat to die down, but fuck it, I don’t have anything to hide. I throw my hood up on my sweatshirt just to be on the safe side and make my way inside.
I plod up the steps quietly, making sure I’m fully aware of my surroundings at all times. Flashbacks of the day I rescued my brother from that dingy disgusting apartment complex plague me. This place is pretty bad. Not that level bad, but not a place where I want her living. As I hit the second floor, I notice that her apartment door is wide open, and two men are standing outside.
“Don’t worry, Jarvis,” the one says. “She’ll come around. She always does. We just gotta put a little heat on her. Dumb bitch will sing like a bird as soon as she thinks she’s going to have to suffer any consequences. She’s my all-time favorite informant. So fucking easy.”
“You’re ruthless.” I recognize him without even seeing his face. His puffed-up faux swagger as he paces down the hall is the same one he used when he walked into my bar today. I duck onto the communal balcony, hoping they don’t notice me standing there. I’m sure I look like a creep just hovering in the hallway.
“You know she’s going to lead us right to him. And when she does, we’re both getting promotions.”
“You think she knows anything?”
“I’m sure she does. What do you think she was doing hiding out the last two days?”
I watch them as they walk down the steps, the one cop holding up Sloan’s cellphone. “Stupid girl.” He laughs.
This can’t be happening. I don’t want to believe what I’m seeing or hearing. This can’t be right. Every word stabs me deeper and deeper. Every footstep they take makes me angrier. My father can’t be right. She can’t be working with these assholes.
I can’t face her right now. My worst nightmare is coming true, and the only person who can make it right is the one twisting the knife. The girl I trusted. The girl who saw way too much.
I know what I told my father I’d do if this happened, but for now I’m going to keep my mouth shut and try and gather a little more intel. It’s hard being rational when the only feeling coursing through my veins is betrayal.
I take her duffle bag and toss it right in front of her door. I want her to know I was here, want her to know that I got her message loud and clear, although I’m still trying to sort out what all that message entails.
Right now I need to get back up on the mountain. I need to talk to someone I can trust before I open this can of worms. I sneak down the steps, checking outside to ensure the coast is clear. Any traces of police cars seem to be gone, but I stand in the doorway for five minutes to just be on the safe side. My heart is thumping and my hand is twitching.
I ball it up into a fist and slam it into the wall, cursing her name.
I trusted you Sloan. And I got exactly what I deserved.
As much as I try to let the things my parents have said to me in the past go right over my head, there’s no denying the truth in things, even if it’s just in the reality that they’ve created for myself and my siblings. As long as there is good in the world, me and my clan will always be considered evil. It’s time for me to go back to where I belong.
Chapter 27
Sloan
My hands are shaking. I don’t feel safe here, not with Arthur on the loose, and definitely not with the crooked cops that were supposed to be protecting me. I feel like I’m going to black out. I need to get in touch with Gavin and tell him what’s going on. I’m sure he’s probably worried about me. I haven’t had an opportunity to tell him I wasn’t going to make it.
First things first, though, I need to call Olive. If Arthur is really out and really on a rampage, he’ll probably be looking for her, too. She’s easy bait.
I reach in my pocket, fishing for my cellphone. Missing.
I tear apart the couch, digging in the cushions, pulling out pennies and stray socks, tears streaking my face.
Did I leave it at the hospital?
No, I remember looking at it on my ride over.
Those shady motherfuckers, I think. There’s absolutely nothing on that phone that could incriminate me or tie me to this situation. The most he’s doing is inconveniencing me. Inconveniencing me and leaving me further helpless with a crazy man on the loose who probably wants to kill me.
Nice work, Officer Brighton.
I’ll just have to drive over to the camp and talk to him myself. No big deal. I knew the day would come when I’d have to take my medicine, have to slice myself open and let him see this part of me. It’s not going to be fun or pretty, but I know I can make him understand.
I open every closet door, check every window to make sure it’s locked, even look under my bed just to be on the safe side.
I slip on a hoodie and some sweatpants and pull the front door open.
As soon as I see that black duffle bag sitting in front of it, I burst into tears. Gavin was here. Thoughts race through my mind millions of miles a minute. Why didn’t he knock? Why didn’t he come talk to me?
More importantly, what did he see and what did he hear? I need to get to him, fast. I have to come clean and hope that he can understand what’s going on before it’s too late.
Chapter 28
Gavin:
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Trixie asks as I plow through the clubhouse door, my head down.
“Where’s Brooks?” I demand.
“I have no idea. Haven’t seen him. What are you doing back already? Are you ok? Do you want some breakfast?” She’s going on and on, nervously twittering about, pacing back and forth.
“Trixie, shut up and find me Brooks or get the fuck out of my face,” I growl.
“Find him yourself,” she barks back, storming off.
I feel a twinge of regret popping off at her. She’s a good woman, she’d do anything for me, anything for the club, and I definitely don’t feel like she needs to feel the brunt of this, but right now, I don’t have time for playing nice. I need to find Brooks and come up with a plan before my dad has a chance to stick his nose in this shit storm.
“What’s up, brother?” I ask Goob, laying on the same couch in the corner as yesterday. His leg is propped up on the coffee table. I don’t want him in on this either. Not yet.
He’s smiling from ear to ear.
“You look happier today. What happened? Heat give you a sponge bath or something?”