by Hope Stone
I wasn’t going to get Pin back, but I could solve this case. I could at least redeem the Outlaw Souls’ reputation. And get Zoe and Hector back home.
I was buzzing with adrenaline. I had to keep moving. My mind whirred through ways to get in touch with Las Balas. At last, I decided to not overcomplicate it. One of the comments on a Reddit thread mentioned that Las Balas liked to hang out at a bar called Fisherman’s Wharf (which was strange because it was nowhere near the beach). I mapped out a route and started to plan.
I didn’t have to do anything stupid, but I needed to do something. If I just popped over to that bar, grabbed a drink and made some observations, I would be much farther along than I had been this morning.
It was a public place, after all. I was a smart girl, I could handle this. Besides, there was nothing to be gained by waiting. Tomorrow, the situation would be exactly the same.
I raced around my apartment, grabbing supplies and clothes while I dialed Veronica’s number.
“Hey,” she said. “What’s up?”
“I’m doing some recon tonight,” I said. “A place called the Fisherman’s Wharf, just to see if I can get eyes on bikers for the missing teens case.”
“The ones you were with last night?” Veronica asked.
We always kept each other appraised of the general details in our cases. It was good to have someone in the know. “No, it’s a different club. Las Balas.”
I heard clacking on the other end. Veronica was on her computer.
“Ok, I see it on the map,” Veronica said. “Sketchy area.”
“I know, I’m a big girl,” I said.
“Don’t need to remind me,” Veronica said. “Just be careful and stay in contact. If you don’t text for a while, you know I’ll call out the hounds.”
“Of course,” I said.
After we hung up, I prepared for my role for the night. I pulled on an itty-bitty black leather mini-skirt and a low-cut camisole blouse. Then I decided on a long black blazer. It was a little formal, but it had deep pockets so my mace could be easily accessed. Besides, I wasn’t going for the total bimbo look. I couldn’t really pull that off, so I wanted to just look like an inebriated secretary who was looking for some thrills to spice up her drab life.
It’s hard to fake drug addiction, so I wasn’t even going to try. And I definitely wasn’t going to stroll into the bar and ask for some heroin because that was about the same as screaming that you were an undercover cop.
I spent more time than usual on my makeup. I didn’t usually wear a lot, but makeup could serve as good armor. A good amount of shimmery eyeshadow and dark eyeliner can go a long way towards masking expressions. Not to mention that red lipstick is a killer distraction. I didn’t do anything attention-grabbing, just enough to hide behind.
I finished the look with some high-heeled boots. Not great for running, but I had no intention of needing to run tonight. I threw my notebook, an extra bottle of pepper spray, and a taser into my purse. I grabbed my phone and fiddled with it. I had the strangest urge to text Pin.
I would never expect a response, but I wanted to tell him what I was doing. I wanted him to know that I was at least trying to make things right. That now knew it was Las Balas. I had at least been a good enough PI to figure that out.
I also wanted him to know where I was. It was stupid, but I felt like I would be safer if Pin was aware of my movements. Like he cared.
But he didn’t. Yesterday, he would have wanted to know. Hell, yesterday, he might have gone with me. Today, I could walk straight into hell, and he would probably cheer.
I shoved my phone into my bag. Veronica knew where I was going, and she would have my back. I didn’t need Pin.
An hour later, I pulled into the lot of Fisherman’s Wharf. I had stopped on the way to eat a quick meal from McDonald’s in my car. I wasn’t going to go into this on an empty stomach.
My heart started racing when I saw a row of bikes parked in the lot. This was it. I knew in my gut that I was going to find something in there. It might not be Zoe or Hector, but there was going to be some sign that I was on the right track.
I touched up my lipstick in my mirror before pulling my smaller handbag (wallet, phone, and taser inside) over my head. I touched my pocket again for my mace. I wasn’t going to use it. I was going to walk in, order a drink, look around, maybe flirt with a guy, then hightail it out of there.
I knew Fisherman’s Wharf was a whole other level of sketch as soon as I walked through the door. The bartender was a dead giveaway. At Blue Dog Saloon, the barkeep had been grimy, perhaps a bit grouchy, but he had been upfront and focused on his business. The bartender at Fisherman’s Wharf took one look at me and gave me a lecherous smirk.
If I hadn’t already seen a group of leather-clad men huddled in the corner booth, I would have turned around and walked right out. But I was too close to give up. I walked up to the bar and hopped on a stool. I didn’t keep my head down or try to be subtle. The bar was slow, so there was no use trying to hide.
“Haven’t seen you before, sweetheart,” the bartender said.
His voice was slick and oily, and he stared at my cleavage without shame. I gave him a small shrug and pouted my lips. As if I had a really rough day, and maybe I was slightly ashamed that I had a taste for bad guys.
“Just thought I’d try someplace new,” I said. “Is that a problem?”
He snorted. “No problem at all. What can I get you?”
“Gin and tonic, please,” I said. I was going to take one sip, that was all. Then I would pretend to get a text from an ex.
While the creep of a bartender went to make my drink, I glanced around the room. A few of the bikers had clocked me, but they didn’t seem that interested.
No one resembles Zoe. No Hector, either.
But there was one young woman. I recognized her at once. Grace Vasquez. The older girl who had played volleyball with Zoe before getting involved with a biker and running away a year before. She was eighteen by now, so not really my problem, but Zoe’s parents had suspected she had introduced her daughter to the bikers.
It was definitely her. She had bleached the ends of her dark hair, and her skin looked a lot more sallow than it had in her yearbook photo, but it was Grace alright. And she had been using. I would bet the contents of my wallet on it. I didn’t think she was high just that moment, but her addiction was evident in the dark circles beneath her eyes that no amount of concealer could hide and the puffiness of her cheeks. I knew if she were to roll up her sleeves, I would probably see puncture marks on her arms.
I looked back down at the table. I had what I had come for. Grace was here, which meant that Zoe was tied up with Las Balas. Hector too most likely. I would need backup to start trailing them, but now I knew where I could start.
The bartender placed the gin and tonic down, and I paid as fast as I could. I was pulling out my phone, all ready to do a small fake reaction to a booty call, when my neck prickled. There was someone behind me.
I told myself to remain calm and turned. It was a tall guy with messy brown hair. He gave me a smile that made my blood curdle. He wasn’t bad-looking, quite attractive even. But I could tell whatever he wanted with me wasn’t anything good.
“Hey Claire,” he said.
I froze. I flicked my eyes around the room and saw that now all the bikers were regarding me from their side of the room. The three other customers had their heads down while the bartender was still smirking on the other side of the bar.
He knew my name. It was time to run.
I scooted off the chair and turned for the door, but the man grabbed my arm. In a matter of seconds, he had ripped my purse over my head. I started breathing heavy. This was bad, really bad. No one in this bar was going to help me, and he had just acquired my phone, my wallet, and my taser. All I had was my pepper spray in my pocket, but if I whipped that out now, one of the other bikers was going to yank it off me before I could get to the door.
This was
n’t supposed to happen. How the hell did they know who I was?
“Oh no, you’re not leaving so soon,” the man said. “We’ve been wondering when you would show up here.”
I looked up and froze. He had a scar on his cheek. Liz had said Zoe’s older boyfriend had a scar. Fuck, this was bad. This was really bad.
He reached up and placed a finger in the middle of my forehead, where my brow was creased. I flinched away, but he only smiled.
“Oh Claire, we’ve heard all about you,” he said. “Sniffing around asking questions about Zoe and Hector.”
“How do you know my name?” I snapped.
My voice came out somewhat steady, much to my relief. I was desperate to know how they knew me. It was also dawning on me that the only way I was getting out of this was by keeping them calm and waiting for an opportunity.
“You really thought you could run around asking Hector’s old friends about him and start fucking an Outlaw Soul, and we wouldn’t notice?” he asked. “How dumb do you think we are?”
My heart sank. He knew a lot. Hector must have still been in contact with one of his stupid friends who was probably about to run away to deal drugs as well.
“By the way,” the man said, his hand still gripping my arm as he pulled me across the room. “I was impressed by how quickly you hopped in bed with Pin, he’s notoriously hard to get.”
The whole time his voice remained low and steady, almost as if he was commenting on nothing more serious than the weather, but I wasn’t fooled. This man was a predator. He opened a back door and dragged me through, his buddies following behind. We entered a small and dingy room. I was in so much trouble.
The man let me go and pointed at a chair. I sat down. Not like I had a chance of fighting them off. Besides, they needed to think I was terrified. I let my fear show on my face. If they thought I had given up, they would be more lax.
“I am sorry you had to suck Pin’s dick, and it was all for nothing,” he said.
I wanted to slap him. Hard. Instead, I bit down on my tongue and remained silent. I couldn’t let him rile me. Veronica knew where I was. If I didn’t text her in thirty minutes, she was going to launch into action. I just had to survive until then.
My stomach clenched. Did I really think this had come to life and death? I looked up at the sneer on the leader’s face, and I knew that this man was capable of anything.
“Where’s Zoe?” I asked.
From the corner, Grace Vasquez scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell her anything, Wreck.”
His name was Wreck. Even in my dire straits, I noted how appropriate the nickname was. Wreck turned to me and ran his cold eyes up and down my body. I wanted to throw up.
“I commend your commitment,” he said. “But you should really know when to give up.”
“I’ll drop the case,” I said. “Zoe and Hector will be legal adults soon anyway. It will fade away. I swear, I’ll never come near your club again.”
I shrugged and tried to look like I could care less. When in fact, if I managed to walk away from this, I was going to do everything in my power to burn Las Balas to the ground. But it was a very big “if.”
Wreck let out a soft little laugh at my bid for freedom.
“Sweetheart, I don’t believe a word out of your pretty little mouth,” he said. “And trust me, you’re much more useful to us right where you are.”
I furrowed my brow. Wreck leaned in close and picked up a strand of my hair and ran it through his fingers. His scent was sweet like rose flowers, making me gag.
“After all, what do you think Pin would hand over if he knew we had you?” Wreck asked.
My eyes widened. Pin had access to the Outlaw Souls’ funds. He knew everything about the club and their territory. If Las Balas managed to blackmail Pin, that was pretty much the nail in Outlaw Souls coffin.
My self-control snapped, and I spat directly into Wreck’s eye. I would have head-butted him if I hadn’t been sure it would just end with my concussion. But seeing the glob of spit land in his face was satisfying enough.
He cursed and reeled back.
“You bitch,” he hissed.
I saw stars when he backhanded me across the face. The pain stung, but I breathed through it. Spitting on him had been a mistake. I was going to have to control myself better if I wanted to get out of this.
“Watch her,” Wreck snapped.
His cronies stepped up and leered down at me, while Wreck regained his composure.
“I’ll be back, Claire,” Wreck said. “And I hope you’ll treat me with a bit more respect.”
He bared his teeth in a smile one last time before turning and heading out of the room. I kept my head down in a gesture of defeat.
But I wasn’t defeated.
No one was going to come rescue me. I had to get out of this on my own.
Twenty-Five
Pin
“Fuck,” Moves said.
I watched as my friend paced back and forth in the back room of the Blue Dog Saloon.
“Fuck,” he said. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
For the past five minutes, he had said little else.
I had told him everything. I texted him and drove straight to the Blue Dog Saloon. The whole story had poured out of me: Claire’s investigation into missing teenagers, her notes on the Outlaw Souls, our fight, and how I was pretty sure Las Balas were the real culprits.
I had tried to keep my emotions out of it, but it was hard to hide my pain, especially when Moves was staring at me with a look of utter shock.
“Fuck,” Moves said.
“Enough,” I said. “We need to decide what to do.”
“Ok, give me a sec,” he said, throwing his arms out. “I just can’t believe Claire was playing you. I mean, I thought she was for real.”
“Well, she wasn’t,” I snapped.
I couldn’t believe Moves wanted to focus on my joke of a relationship in all this. We needed to be thinking about Las Balas. We had to consider how best to defend our own reputation.
“Are you sure?” Moves asked. “I mean, she would have to be one hell of an actress.”
“Moves, I don’t wanna talk about Claire.” I could tell Moves didn’t want to leave it alone, but he ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh.
“I told you that dealer was young,” Moves said. “Wish I could say I was surprised, but Las Balas are rotten through and through.”
“We need to tell Ryder and the others,” I said after nodding. “And then we need to figure out how to extract those kids with the least amount of collateral.”
“It’s gonna be hard,” Moves said. “I don’t want any confrontation, but it might come to that.”
Moves leaned back against the table and squinted his eyes. “It would be best to move fast. You call Ryder yet?”
“I called but he’s not picking up,” I said.
“Shit, he might be out of town,” Moves muttered. “He mentioned he might go for a ride last night.”
I crossed my arms. That wasn’t good. We had to move soon. I couldn’t explain why, but it felt like every second that passed, things got worse and worse. Something wasn’t right in our territory, and we had to fix it.
It could have been the situation, but it also could have been my desperation to not think about Claire. As long as I was focused on the drugs and the kids, I didn’t have to consider Claire and everything that had been said that morning.
How was it only a few hours ago? It already felt like another day, another person. I wanted to throw up when I thought of what I had said to her. In anger, I had reached for the words I knew would hurt the most, but now I wanted to take back each and every one. I wanted to listen to her as well. I wasn’t sure if I would believe her, but I still wanted to hear her side.
“I can reach out to my contacts,” Moves said. “Try and ask around.”
I looked up and forced myself to focus. What was done was done. It was over between me and Claire. Moves cursed again.
He was pacing now too, buzzing with frantic energy. He was itching to take action as well, and I was grateful to have him by my side.
“But as soon as I start asking around, they’ll hear,” he said. “Las Balas get word of things fast.”
“You know,” Moves said, turning to me and going still. “A third party could help, if you reached out to Claire and her PI firm. All we would have to do is push them in the right direction and tell them what to expect.”
“No,” I said. “No way. I don’t want her involved at all.”
“She already is involved,” Moves pointed out. “Besides, she’s a PI, she has resources. Even police contacts.”
“I told her to stop the investigation,” I said.
“And you think she listened?” Moves asked.
He raised a cynical brow to indicate that he seriously doubted Claire was going to just call it a day on this investigation.
“Better that we give her a tip,” Moves said. “Or else she’s fumbling in the dark.”
“She thought it was us,” I said. “Do you not get it? She was using me to spy on Outlaw Souls!”
Moves twisted his mouth, and I could tell he was going to say something I didn’t like.
“But it wasn’t us,” Moves said. “She was just following a lead, and now we can help give her another lead. Her PI firm will help us out by taking care of Las Balas, and we all win.”
It wasn’t the first time I wanted to hit Moves. His obstinate habit of saying whatever was on his mind and oversimplifying every situation drove me crazy.
“There is no winning,” I growled. “Not for me.”
“Call me a hopeless romantic,” Moves said, raising his hands in the air. “But I really believed in you two.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I snapped. “It was all a lie, everything she did was so she could sniff for dirt on me and my brothers.”
“Are you sure?” Moves said.
I gaped at him. I could not believe he was siding with Claire.
“Would you be so casual about it if you were in my shoes?” I asked. “If you found out the woman you were with had a whole other agenda.”