Page 27

“Well, we didn’t just talk to some of them,” Brawler says. “Me, specifically.” Before I can let my mind wander to them beating up wives and kids, he clarifies. “A brother of one of the guys happened to be at the wife’s house. We interrogated him, then kicked his ass when he didn’t give us anything.”
“K wanted you to do that?”
Brawler pulls his shoulders back. “Listen, Kyla, I knew what I was doing when I went to him. I knew eventually he’d have me do something like this. Or worse.” He meets my gaze. “And I’d do it all over again, so don’t look at me like that. This is just a means to an end.”
I bite my lip. “I still wish you didn’t have to.”
“We’re in the Heights. There are a lot of things we don’t want to do that we end up having to do.” He glares at my still-bruised face to drive the point home.
There’s so much truth in his words, but they still don’t make me feel any better. I wind my arms around him again, and we stay there for a while, just hugging and leaning into one another for comfort.
When we finally emerge from the bathroom, Magnum goes around the corner to the local fast food place to get dinner. He returns with a few bags, and we sit down to eat. Oscar and I tell them what happened with our day while Magnum skips over whatever Brawler did and tells them the wife of the ex-Crew member knew nothing. Well, the brother didn’t know anything either, so looks like we all struck out today. Brawler is one threatening dude. The guy would’ve spilled everything if he knew anything. His hands are the size of freaking mallets. I should know. I’ve been on the receiving end of them.
While we eat, I stick close to Brawler. He’s quiet and thoughtful, and even though he says he doesn’t, I wonder if he’s regretting his decision to join the Crew. No matter his good intentions, whatever he just did had to hurt.
After I finish eating, I get all their phone numbers and put them into my phone. I take the time to try to memorize them in case I’m ever in a position where I don’t have my phone—which apparently happens a lot. I also get Finn’s number from Oscar and send him a text:Hey, it’s Kyla. Just wanted to let you know that I’m okay. It’s going to be a bit before I can get back to training.
His response:Girrrrrrrl. WTF. Don’t do that to me again.
Brawler reads over my shoulder as I type out:I’m so glad you guys weren’t there.
Not going to lie. Me too. Keep safe.
I put my phone away after grabbing Johnny’s number from Magnum’s phone. I’m half-tempted to call it, but I already know he won’t pick up. I just wish we knew where he was already. The video K was sent flickers through my mind, making me queasy. I hope they’re still not torturing him.
Magnum’s phone lies in the middle of the table from where I left it. It rings. I glance up to find “Cole” scrawling over the screen. My heart jumps in my throat, and Mag immediately picks it up, bringing it to his ear. His one-sided conversation is less than informative. A couple of “yeah’s” pass his lips before he hangs up again. He glances up. “He wants to meet.”
“Does he know something?”
“He didn’t say he did, but I don’t think he’d meet up otherwise.”
“Let’s go,” Oscar says, picking up the discarded brown paper bags and throwing them in the trash. I guzzle down some of my water before getting up from the chair. Now, my stomach tightens for a completely different reason. Hope. Fear. Nerves. Basically, anything and everything is going through my mind. All the possible scenarios. All the ways this could end. All the ways this could go wrong.
“What’s this?” Mag asks.
I peer over at him to find him standing next to the broken Santa cookie jar. “Oscar bought that for me when we went to the store for my new phone. Then there was a run-in with a pimp.”
“Dick broke her Santa cookie jar,” Oscar says.
Magnum frowns at it.
“Even broken, it’s the only festive thing I’ve seen,” Brawler remarks.
“It doesn’t feel festive, does it?” It’s hard to celebrate when someone you love is gone, and you don’t know if he’s hurting or even going to be okay.
If our situations were reversed, he’d be doing everything he could to get me back, so that’s what I’m going to do too.
We trek down the stairs and emerge into the crisp night air. In the time that we were inside, the sun has lowered over the horizon. A brush of orange paints the sky in little wisps.
We head right for the car, and I let Oscar take the front while I get in the back with Brawler because he needs me the most right now. Even though he isn’t saying much, I know from experience that just having someone nearby who you care about is soothing.
“Where are we headed?” Oscar asks as Mag pulls away from the curb.
“Some place Cole and I both know.” Mag moves his gaze to the rearview mirror, and I catch it. It isn’t until we pull up in front of a familiar house that I understand why he caught my gaze. We’re at his old house. The one he used to live in with his mom before he joined the Crew. Mag gives Oscar and Brawler a quick rundown of why we’re at this particular house before we all get out and head around the side of the house. The porch in the front looks like it’s close to falling down, so we don’t dare try to get in that way.
The side door opens, and a musty smell greets us. The place is completely empty other than cobwebs and spiders. It’s sat untouched, so it has an eerie, un-lived in feel. There’s no furniture. No evidence that this place used to be Magnum’s or belong to a family at all.
We don’t stop on the first floor though. Mag opens a door just off the kitchen. He flicks on a light, and a part of the basement illuminates. Miraculously, there are actually things down here. As we descend the steps, I watch Mag carefully. His movements are a little strained, but nothing how I thought they would be after getting shot. Either he’s putting on a damn good show or what he said about K not actually trying to hurt him is correct. Just off the bottom of the stairs is a foosball table. Behind that, there’s a couch. On that couch, sits Mag’s cousin, Cole.