Page 195 of Malice and Surrender
“I can’t let you go, Tink,” I whispered. “Not ever again, and that should scare you because it scares me. It terrifies me what I will do to keep you.” She shivered in my arms, but instead of stepping away like a sane person, she hugged me tighter. Maybe we were both a little unhinged.
The anger simmering under the surface of my skin was ready to lash out at anyone or anything that tried to tear us apart. It didn’t matter who it was. I’d rip their beating heart from their chest if they dared to come between us.
But what did you do when that person was yourself?
Kaivan
“That was fast,” I mumbled as I stared at the number calling on my phone. “Mutt, what do you have?”
“So, just to be clear, we’re even once I give you this info. Right?” Mutt said, and I wanted to punch him through the phone. He really was a weasel. It was appropriate that he was in the Weasel Legionnaires.
“Yes, we’ll be even until your club fucks up again and thinks they are sharks in a pond when they’re really only guppies. Just remember that it will be my face, you see. If you and that MC of yours crosses us again,” I growled into the phone.
“We’re not, I promise.” Mutt’s voice was shaky coming through the line.
“Good, now give me the info.”
“I couldn’t find anything on the Dave Collins guy you mentioned, but I found an address that will interest you. That Father Frank guy is a real nutjob. He started as a motivational speaker for men looking to improve their self-esteem, but it became much bigger. He is at full-blown cult status now, but no one knows where the compound is because either you never see the men that join again, or you do, and they are so brainwashed that they never give up its location.”
Great, more good news. “How is this information helpful, Mutt? You mentioned an address.”
“Hang on. I’m getting to that.” I rolled my eyes.
I looked over to where Roach was freaking out. His angry tone carried on the breeze as he stomped around like a child having a tantrum. I couldn’t hear what he and Wilder were saying, but only one topic made Roach that angry…Lane. Hopefully, Wilder wasn’t sharing her showering habits, that would send Roach over the cliff.
There was a rattling paper on the other end of the line. “You have a pen?”
“Yeah, go ahead,” I said, not bothering to write it down. Memorizing random crap was my specialty.
“It’s 555 Catalina Court.”
“So, what’s this address?”
“When the guy decides to interview the men, he takes them to that house,” Mutt said.
“How do you know this? You better not be playing with me, Mutt. I fucking swear, I don’t want to have to kill you over this shit.”
“Nooo, I promise. The info is legit. I know a couple of guys that, before they joined the club, had interviewed, thinking it was going to be this self-help workshop, but they were taken to this crappy house and videotaped as they answered questions for hours. They decided they didn’t want anything to do with his crazy ass, but a lot of others love him.”
“What does he want? Power, money…control of the world. What’s driving this guy?” I said it out loud but more to myself.
“I don’t know, but I do have one more piece of info that is fucked and going to blow your mind. Frank’s real name is Francois Hanson, and he has a twin brother. Now get this, the brother was a fucking FBI agent and a serial killer called the Chameleon. He’s got an undisclosed number of kills to his name and was like the FBI’s most wanted. That right there is some fucked up shit. One brother is a cult leader, and the other a serial killer.”
I didn’t say anything as I processed the information. Was that why this Frank guy was so cocky?
“So did they catch this Chameleon, or is he still running around,” I asked.
“I don’t know, man. But that’s one family I wouldn’t want to be part of. Anyway, no idea when he’ll be at the house next, but that was where both guys were taken.”
“Thanks, Mutt.”
“So listen, I scratched your back. Maybe you can scratch mine and put a good word in for me with your Prez?”
“Not a chance.” I hit end on the phone and stuffed it in my pocket.
I was staring at complete opposites as I marched over to the truck. Wilder was leaning back on the truck, taking in the sun’s rays, while Roach paced, his face red as he snarled like a dog and mumbled under his breath.
“Dude, calm down before you have a stroke.”
