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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

MANE

I know by the growls Mason is releasing that he’s not a happy camper with me right now, but this is what they brought me in to do. I’m the only one out of us with any experience dealing with psychopaths.

“In a way, Benji, you are like your parents,” I insist.

“No I’m not,” he denies.

“Yeah, Benji. You are. They set out to hurt you, to demean you, to steal your future from you. Isn’t that the same thing you’re doing to Myles? He’s innocent, he’s never done anything to hurt you. Has he?”

“No. But he is related to him,” Benji says, his head bobbing in Mason’s direction.

“He is,” I confirm. “But again, Mason didn’t do anything to you.”

Apparently, reasoning with him isn’t possible because his entire being begins to vibrate. “He took Julia away from me!”

While everyone around me scoffs at his answer, I remain silent. His feelings may be whacked as hell, but they’re still valid. Plus, I’m hoping I can get answers from him. Maybe he’ll let something slip that’ll give Jagger and Judd a lead.

“How?” I question. “Give me a reasonable response, Benji. Not one out of anger, but a truthful reason.”

“He used her. Made her think that he cared about her. He didn’t give a shit about her!” Benji shouts.

“I didn’t lead her on!” Mason yells. “We went on two dates. Two, Ben. She read more into it than anything. I tried to stay friends with her, help her, but she took it to extremes. She killed people for simply being a friend to me. If they hung around me, they were a target in her eyes. She was whacked. She didn’t comprehend friendship, always wanting more than what was offered to her. That’s her fault, not mine.”

“You’re lying! She told me, Mason.”

“What did she tell you, Benji?” I continue probing. Eventually, he’s going to slip and give us the information we need.

“I hate you. All of you!” he spits, squinting his eyes at me. “Get away from me, you slut. You’ll never get anything from me.”

A murmur from Laura has me shifting gears and walking to her. “Do you have something to tell us, Laura?”

She nods her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Do you know where Myles is?”

Again, she nods but the shouts from Benji have her curling in on herself as much as she can through her bindings.

“Shut him up,” I demand as I step forward, removing her gag. “He can’t hurt you, Laura. You’re safe to tell us where Myles is. We’ll protect you.” I feel like an asshole lying to her, because no matter what she says she’ll never walk out of here.

Wanting to appear as if I’m on her side, I lift my hands up and gently remove the bandana from her mouth. I send her an encouraging smile and she flops her head forward, a defeated and accepted sigh escaping her before she lifts her head back up and gives me a shaky, watery smile.

“Tell us what you know, Laura,” I persist, not wanting to give her time to mull things over and back out.

“All I can tell you is that he’s in some sort of underground chamber. I think he said something about the old mill,” she conveys.

“We checked there,” Hydro states. “There was no underground chamber.”

“You won’t be able to find it unless you know where the hidden latch and room is,” Laura acknowledges. “It isn’t on the blueprints because the mill added it last minute. They were going to make it their new boiler room, but then they had to shut down and it never got completed.”

“So there’d be no record of it because that paperwork doesn’t make it to the county archives nor does it get filed through the clerk until the job is one-hundred percent complete and has passed inspection,” Judd addresses.

“What do you know about its hidden location, Laura?” my dad probes.

“He said he stacked some empty pallets on top of the floor panel that opens to the steps,” Laura answers.

“And where’s the lever?” I ask, stepping forward so the only face she sees is mine. I don’t want the men to intimidate her since she’s already skeptical of them and shooting them fearful looks.

“It’s not a lever,” she says, swiping her tongue along her bottom lip. “There’s a button behind some shelves. It’s red.”

“Thank you, Laura,” I tell her before replacing the bandana.

“Let’s move,” Hydro orders and the men all huddle together as Mamba gathers Ella and me and begins gently shoving us forward.

Mason looks over at me and sends me a wink before mouthing, “Thank you.” I blow him a kiss and turn toward the house, ready to shower and scrub this dirty feeling off my skin. I’m not usually in tow when an interrogation takes place with suspects, I do question people from time-to-time, but I’m never aware of what their outcome will be. Leaving Laura in that field, no matter how unscrupulous she is, doesn’t sit well with me. There’s no telling what condition Myles will be in when they bring him home and I want to make sure I’m mentally and emotionally prepared to help him through his ordeal.

I’m sure he’s going to have a myriad of different emotions to deal with, and as his future sister-in-law, according to Mason’s declaration, and seeing as I’m the most rational minded out of our ragtag group, I want to be clear headed so I can help him.

* * *

I took my time in the shower. Letting the steam wrap around me as I let the emotions go down the drain. I didn’t blow dry my hair, instead I combed out the tangles while adding some of my shine oil to it and letting it dry naturally.

I put on my pajama bottoms and a tank top, adding some fuzzy socks because I’m not one who can handle or tolerate walking through a house with bare feet. At home, I have kitty and puppy whisker slippers I trade off, both feel like walking on a cloud since they’re made of memory foam. The roar of pipes pulling up draws me from my musings. But it isn’t the full brigade so I start worrying that something was wrong with Myles and that they split up so half of them could cart him to the hospital.

“Ella.” I choke out her name. “Why do you think that only some of the men came back?”

“I don’t know,” she answers. “But let’s not jump to any conclusions until we find out.”

“Okay,” I whisper, wishing I had the answers before the men that came back stroll through the door.

As soon as the door swings open, Bruiser pops his head in. “Everything’s okay. Myles wasn’t handling us all being there so some of us split and decided to come back and check on our guests.”

“Need help?” Ella asks, tilting her head to the side.

“Nah,” he hums. “Stay here with Mane. We’ve got this.”

“There a reason you don’t want me to come with you? I’m not skittish, Bruiser.” Ella always takes things personally.

She thinks they don’t like her to tag along with them because she’s missing what they deem as an essential part of the body. But I have a feeling it’s because they want her here to support me while I do the same for Mason while he helps Myles settle.

“No reason, Ella. Don’t take it personally.” He wiggles his finger and tilts his head sideways, letting her know he wants her to join him outside.

She rolls her eyes but marches outside, in her socks which makes me shiver—yuck, mud and grass belong on the ground not embedded in your footwear.

It’s not long before Ella comes storming back in. She doesn’t look angry per se, but like a sullen puppy who’s been kicked out of the house.

“You know, I’m a big girl, Ella,” I convey.

“We all know you are, Mane,” she explains. “This isn’t about you being unable to be alone, it’s about family. We don’t face things alone. We’re united… always. Listen, Myles isn’t in a good place. Physically, he’s a little banged up, it’s his emotional state of mind that has Mason worried so he sent Bruiser back to make sure you were prepared.”

“Did Bruiser mention how Mason and Maverick were?” I ask.

“No. Just that they were strung out and completely out of their element,” Ella answers.

“Will we need medical supplies? For Myles?”

“He’s banged up, a few scratches and bruises, but from the report I just got, he’s more angry than anything. He’s pissed at himself that they got the drop on him, of course, and because he was drugged up, he wasn’t able to fight back.”

“When I check and see what his state of mind is, maybe he can take his anger out on the man responsible for putting him in that underground room,” I mumble.

“In my opinion, it’d be the best medicine for him,” Ella excuses.

“I can see that,” I muse. “They do say revenge is the best medicine.”

“Here. Here,” Ella laughs, lifting up her hand for a high five.

Knowing that they’ll all be tired when they get back, I start a pot of coffee and dig underneath the cabinet until I find the thermoses that’ll keep them nice and warm while starting a second container. I keep that routine going until they’re all full and there’s one on the warmer.