“Who?” Dex asks.
I shoot a sharp look at Steer, daring him to open his mouth. “My woman. Serena. Someone tried to get to me through her.”
More loud murmuring. Guess word hasn’t spread that she’s with me now.
“Is she okay?” Steer asks.
“No,” I growl. “He roughed her up and scared the shit out of her.”
“This about you not heeling to Big Chief’s order?” Dex asks.
“Yup. Sounds like it.”
From the back of the room, Ravage raises his hand. “Not to be rude but—”
“Choose your words wisely,” Wrath warns.
Ravage actually stands, so we can all see him better. “It, uh, from the reactions of some of my fellow brothers, it seems not everyone here at this table even knew Serena was your ol’ lady, Grinder. So, how did an outsider know to get to you through her?”
He returns to his seat.
A beat of stunned silence settles over the room.
Teller finally lets out a long, low whistle. “Holy shit. That has to be the smartest observation that’s ever come out of your mouth.”
Ravage stands again.
Rock holds up one hand. “Don’t ruin it, Rav.”
Rav sits without opening his mouth.
“We were discussing that earlier,” Wrath says. “It’s a narrow circle of people who could’ve pointed this guy in her direction.” He drills a hard stare into Murphy. “Real narrow.”
“Our contestants are,” Z announces, standing and counting off on his fingers, “The few of us in the club who did know about Grinder and Serena.”
Everyone boos that option.
“Just being upfront,” Z continues. “Grinder’s parole officer, Remy Holt, and a friend of Serena’s who’s unaffiliated.”
“No way it was Remy,” Murphy argues.
“Shit.” Dex scrubs his hand over his face. “I’ve known Remy a while. I can’t see him betraying us like that.”
“He’s not a brother,” Wrath points out. “Besides, if someone made casual inquiries he might not have realized he was giving anything up.”
“He’s not that fucking stupid,” Murphy snaps.
“I don’t believe it was Remy,” I say.
Wrath turns and scowls at me. “Why?”
“The guy who went after Serena didn’t know she was younger.” I hate like fuck admitting this in front of everyone. “When Remy drove me over to her apartment, he thought she was my daughter at first.”
Wrath chokes and tries not to laugh.
“Keep your mouth shut,” I warn him. “The guy who went after her expected her to be my age.”
“That’s real fuckin’ thin, Grinder,” Z says.
I shrug. “I can’t see Remy not mentioning it. Grillo, on the other hand, has met her a couple different times. He could’ve followed her home from my place. It’d be easy for him to get her address from—fuck!”
“What?” Rock asks.
“He helped her with her bags one time when she came to visit me. She said she was embarrassed because she had a bunch of boxes of makeup and stuff that had been sent to her and he made some wisecrack. That’s how the guy who attacked her could’ve known about her channel. They told him to look her up so he’d be able to recognize her to deliver the threat. Grillo could’ve gotten her address from her license plate. He passes that on to Big Chief inside, then…”
“Okay, that actually does sound more reasonable than Remy,” Wrath says.
“Thank you,” Murphy mutters.
“Uh, makeup?” Bricks waves his hand in the air. “You lost us, G.”
“It’s not important.” Rooster sits forward, leaning over the table to look at me. “It sounds like your parole officer is dirty.”
“He’s dirty all right,” Wrath grumbles.
“And apparently double-dipping,” Z adds.
Ignoring them, Rooster continues. “Who’s the guy who actually attacked her? We need him—”
“LOKI fucking justice!” Ravage hollers.
“Easy, cowboy,” Dex says.
“We find him, he’ll give up his source.” Rooster’s gaze slides to Jigsaw. “Jiggy can make him talk.”
Behind me, there’s an urgent tapping at the closed door. Wrath pushes away from the table and answers.
The familiar lilt of Serena’s soft voice hits me and I jump out of my chair, pushing Wrath out of my way. I wrap my arm around her. “What’s wrong?”
She blinks, her gaze shifting from Wrath to me. “I, uh, I remembered something else—”
“Let her in and shut the door,” Rock orders.
Serena’s body shakes against me. Everyone’s attention focuses solely on her, which seems to increase her agitation. I wrap my other arm around her and she curls one hand around my wrist, hanging on tight.
“What is it, hon?” Z asks.
After a few shaky breaths, she pulls her shoulders back and lifts her chin. I release her but stay close.
“His ink.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder, returning to the confident woman I know in front of my eyes.
“Ah, fuck,” Z mutters. “We got sidetracked before and didn’t—”
“Sidetracked by what?” Steer asks.
“None of your business.” I squeeze Serena’s shoulder. “Go on.”
She touches the corner of her eye. “He had a red X tattooed here. I couldn’t get a good look at everything on his arms but he had this on his hand.” She flutters a piece of paper in front of her. “Trinity helped me come up with a rough sketch. It’s not exact but it’s close.” She rubs her forehead. “From what I can remember.”