Page 31

Chapter Thirty-One

Griffin’s Beach Colt

“ W hat the hell are we doing here?” Colt asks Brock as they walk into the prison. “Didn’t get enough of this place when you were locked inside? Need to visit an old lover?”

Brock laughs and flips him the bird as they walk down the hallway towards the warden’s office. “Funny. Real funny.”

It’s been over a year now since they caught the De-Identifier.

His real name is Gerard Buchanan, and he never made it to trial.

Instead, he pleaded guilty, and he was given life without parole if he agreed to give the authorities the names of the unidentified victims. Which he just gave up the last unknown victim’s identity yesterday.

“The warden will see you now,” a chubby secretary says before scurrying away.

She’s cute, but Colt knows he’s only got a thing for blondes. Brock on the other hand, he likes them brunette. Like his wife, who just gave birth to their second daughter three months ago.

“A little skittish, considering where she works, don’t you think?” Brock says as they shut the door to Tony’s office.

The warden stands and holds a hand out to Colt. “Tony Matthews.”

“Colt Nichols.”

“Tony’s the one who helped get Beckett and me out of here,” Brock says. “Did me a favor, and I did him one.”

“Technically, you did me two favors,” Tony says.

Looking around, Colt sees next to nothing on the walls. He can’t understand how Tony doesn’t feel like a prisoner himself in this office all day.

“How’s the wife and step kids?” Brock asks.

He smirks. “They’re good. Esther, though, was a little pissed off that I had to stop giving her special favors when I started dating Mandy.”

“You don’t want to know,” Brock says to Colt. “Trust me. I still have nightmares.”

“No offense, Tony, but I’m not exactly a big fan of this place. Spent enough time here in the past, so can you tell us why you needed us to come down? I thought all Brock needed was to call in his last favor.”

“He did, but Gerard reached out to me. Told me something I think you both need to hear.”

“I still can’t get over his name being Gerard. I mean, it fits more than Chuck Norris, but fuck,” Brock says as they follow Tony out of his office to a conference room.

Stopping, Tony turns. “Chuck Norris?”

“One of the aliases he used,” he says with a laugh. “Because, you know, totally believable.”

“Now you sound like my wife,” Colt says. “Which is disturbing.”

“Hot blonde with curly hair and blue eyes?” Tony asks.

The tone creeps Colt out, and he immediately goes on the defensive. “How’d you know that?”

“I’m right? Or, I guess, Gerard was right?”

“Yeah,” Brock says, his eyes narrowed. “What’s going on? How does this asshole know about Lex?”

“Because there might be some merit to what he has to tell you. You left all weapons at your bikes, right?”

Colt’s heart races. This guy, who’s killed fourteen women, knows his wife?

He just nods and follows Brock into the room where Gerard sits with chains around his hands and ankles.

“Finally. I’ve been waiting for hours.”

“It’s either waiting here or laying on a slab in the county morgue,” Tony says. “You wanted to speak to the guys who ordered your death, so speak.”

The man smirks in his orange jumpsuit, and it pisses Colt off. “He won.”

“Who?”

“The boss.”

He looks at Brock, who wears a matching look of confusion on his face. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You didn’t notice anything about all of the victims?”

“Guess I didn’t pay that much attention. I don’t get off on dead women like you do,” he admits.

“They’re all blonde with blue eyes. And the ones with curly hair? He spent extra time with the curly haired ones. Like your wife, huh?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “He? Disassociating by talking in the third person? You confessed to killing those women, Gerard. These guys caught you, remember?”

Shaking his head, Gerard leans back as much as he can with his restraints. “No, I was just the fall guy.”

“So, what? You were offered the chance to slice up that poor woman from chest to groin to throw us off?” Brock asks. “Or was that the payment?”

“I didn’t touch her.”

“You were the only one in the warehouse.”

The sound of a door slamming in the distance echoes in Colt’s mind. Undertaker mentioned it that night, too, but no one else was seen. And the cameras Brock pulled up later didn’t show anyone running away.

“You’re so easily led astray… I almost shouldn’t help you,” Gerard says. “The boss ran when you got to the warehouse. He knew you would.”

“Why should we believe that?” Colt asks.

Shrugging, he looks around like death doesn’t loom over his head the moment he leaves this room. “What the fuck do I have to lose at this point?”

“Your fucking life,” Brock snaps.

“That’s the deal. You keep me alive until you find the boss. I want him to know it was me who helped lock him up like he did to me. He said nothing would ever stick when you caught me, but he was wrong. He lied.”

Colt crosses his arms over his chest. “Now, I know you’re playing with us. Everyone knows what happens to rats in here.”

“Look!” he says, slamming his fists on the table.

“I didn’t sign up to be locked away and killed for his sick crimes, alright?

I agreed to do a job, and all it was supposed to be was roughing up that brunette, Marnie.

She saw him in the hotel that night. That’s it.

Then he paid me to let you think you’d won, but he didn’t give me enough to justify this. I want to fuck him!”

Lifting an eyebrow, Colt tilts his head. “You want to… fuck him?”

He growls. “No, I want to fuck him over , you dipshit! You know what I mean!”

“So… that’s your plan? Tell us we have to keep looking for a ghost, and we keep you alive indefinitely until we find him?” Brock asks. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Why the fuck do you think it took so long to give them the identities of those victims, huh?”

Shaking his head, Colt can’t decide if he’s being led on or not with this conversation. People can say crazy things when they’re looking down the barrel of a gun.

“Guys like you want to relive your crimes. You dragged it out because you got off on it all over again,” Tony says. “You think you’re the first one to do it?”

“It took a year because I don’t know who the fuck they were. Look in my cell. I have the letters with the code from the motherfucker who did it,” Gerard says and locks eyes with Colt. “His name’s Phillip.”

“Phillip what?”

“I don’t know his last name. I told you, I was hired to rough up that girl and be a distraction. But I do know he hates one of your original members. He hates him so much that he’s killing women who look like your wife.”

An Original Ten has an enemy. Not the first time they’ve come across this.

“Why the fuck does he hate an Original Ten?” Colt asks.

“Fuck if I know. Talk to them. I bet one of them knows who Phillip is. And you need to hurry up because if you don’t find him, he’s going to get Alexis. He’s working his way up to her. Said he’s perfecting his plan for the moment he finally gets her.”

The name doesn’t sound familiar, but Colt’s blood runs cold. “That’s all you can tell us?”

“For now. When you find out more information, come and talk to me. I have a contact working on getting more information from his angle. Assuming we have a deal.”

“Give me the name of your guy, and I’ll work with him,” Brock says.

He shakes his head. “Not a chance, man. I’ll never stay alive long enough to see you get him. Besides, he won’t work with you.”

“This doesn’t sound like much to go on,” Tony says. “You’re asking a lot.”

“Do we have a deal or not?”

“We’ll think about it,” Colt says and walks out of the room.

There’s little more they’ll learn from him because Colt’s about to bash his face into the table. His head spins as he thinks about whether someone’s after his wife.

The only thing he wanted to know was when all fourteen victims had been identified. He hasn’t looked at any of them.

Nina looked like Lex, though. I know that much.

“What do you think?” Brock asks as they walk back to Tony’s office.

“I can pull his phone records, and I’ll get the copies of the mail correspondence,” Tony says. “I don’t know how much I trust what he has in his cell. It sounded like a lie, but it was weirdly specific.”

“He’s just doing it to keep himself alive. Desperate men will figure out anything to save their skin.”

Colt stares out the small window. “I can’t take a chance that someone might be after Lex. But who the fuck would be after her because they hate someone wearing the leather?”

“It has to be VP, right?” Brock asks. “I mean, who else would they hate to target her?”

“My dad. Diesel. Hell, it could even be Jennings.”

“What do you want me to do here, guys?” Tony asks. “Keep him alive or set him up for a terrible accident?”

Licking his lips, Colt rocks from his heels to his toes and back again. “Keep him alive for now.”

“I’ll make sure he stays alive, and I’ll get you copies of everything, Brock.”

The two Drifters leave after thanking Tony, and Colt stops at their bikes outside. He just stares off at the sky while he thinks about what this could mean.

“What we going to do, man? Bring it up in a meeting?” Brock asks.

“Not yet,” he says and taps his breast pockets. “Times like this make me wish I didn’t quit smoking. I could use a fucking cigarette now.”

“Why not bring it up in a meeting? We can gauge reactions at the very least.”

“Because I’d like to know for certain before we bring it up, if we can. Can you look into the backgrounds of each original member? Even the dead ones?”

Scrunching up his face, Brock shakes his head. “Why the dead ones?”

“Because I don’t trust this Gerard asshole. If this person exists, it could be out of retaliation for a dead member. And the dead member I could see someone getting revenge by taking out Lex is Rush.”

Rush Gable died at the hands of the Drifters after he killed Colt’s younger brother, Noah. He’d been kicked out of the club after getting caught sleeping with Colt’s mother while she was still with his father, and he tampered with TK’s bike.

“Think he’s got another kid out there somewhere?”

“If Lex hadn’t killed Daren himself, I’d say this sounds like something he’d try to pull off. Assuming he had half a brain.”

Daren, angry at getting kicked out of the club and his long-lost daddy dying, kidnapped Ky’s kids and Lex. He teamed up with their rival, the Devil’s Advocates, and tried to get his revenge, but Lex ruined his plans. Killed him, got away, and got the kids out safe.

“God help us if he has another offspring out there somewhere. We need another Rush like the world needs another Ted Bundy,” Brock says.

“I don’t think it could be tied to Trunk, but we can’t leave any stone unturned. My bet, though, is VP, my dad, Jennings, or Diesel.”

“It feels wrong looking into Jennings without his knowledge.”

Colt understands and sighs. “I know, but I’d rather get ahead of whoever this Phillip fucker hates first. If he really does have something to do with one of us, and he targets Lex, we may be able to get rid of him quickly once we have leverage.”

“You know, not going to the club is what landed my ass in this place, right?”

“Yeah, but you’re not wearing the President patch. And we’re not doing anything yet. Just getting background information.”

Nodding, he sighs. “Care if I tap Grayson in to help? He’s got access to databases that will cut the research time in half.”

“As long as he knows it goes nowhere outside the three of us.”

“He owes you for the plug to the media. Told me yesterday business is so busy that he’s had to hire a receptionist to field calls. One Ash approved, of course. And Travis and Julian are beyond pissed at you for it.”

He laughs. “Good. Let’s hope we find this asshole before he gets the balls to come for my wife.”

“Assuming he exists at all.”

They climb on their bikes and head back home. The ride does nothing to shake the thought that someone may be targeting Lex. Hasn’t she been through enough? If this has something to do with her father, he might have to create an accident for the man to put an end to the pain and suffering he causes.

No, I can’t kill my father-in-law… right? Fuck if I don’t want to, though. Especially if he’s tied to this Phillip in any way. I’ll be damned if I let anything happen to Lex.