Page 119 of Sins of the Hidden

He leaned heavily against the wall, one hand pressed to his side where the bat had hit him earlier. Each breath seemed to cost him. Dark blood matted his hair, still oozing down his face. But somehow, he was standing. Chet spat blood onto the floor, a dark stain against worn wood, pulling a small wire from his sleeve like a magician revealing a trick. He winced, touching his head gingerly, fingers coming away wet with blood. "Lock picking kit. Always carry one."

I stepped toward him, menace in every movement. Law rushed between us, muttering under his breath, "How is he even conscious after that hit?"

He winced as he leaned against the wall, weight shifting to take pressure off his injured ribs. "You idiots wanna go down for attempted murder? That's fine by me. I told you I'm a friend, Darrell sent me to check on things, not kill you."

"How do we know you're not lying?" Law was calm when he was in lawyer mode, all emotion carefully tucked away behind a mask of professionalism.

"Law, Oakley's father, married to Claudia, hid his secret life until it caught up with him. V, deadly enforcer, can’t feel a damn thing. Darrell found you in the rain when you were fifteen, tookyou in and raised you. Horribly I might fucking add." Prez told him these things? Trusted him with our secrets? "I know about Nyla, I know about the fire, I know about Victoria, I know about the club." He was telling the truth, or he'd done his homework. "Look, I don't want any trouble, and I don't want to get on your bad sides; I owed Darrell a favor, and this is it. Just get what you have come for and leave."

This felt a little too easy, too convenient. My eyes slid to Law, who was already watching me, doubt mirrored in his gaze. "He couldn't have known all that, he's gotta be telling the truth."

"Look, take me to the hospital after this so I can get my ribs and head checked and consider this never happened." He looked pained to say that. "This time only." I didn't take my eyes off Chet, watching for any sign of deception.

"Deal." Law spoke for both of us, decision made. If this went wrong, I could at least blame him.

"So what are you looking for?" We didn’t speak. "If you tell me, I can help to look and get us all out of here faster."

“We're not too sure ourselves,” Law muttered before continuing to rummage through Prez’s things.

Walking over to the bookshelf, eyes scanning titles absently, searching for something Oakley might like to read, something to bring light back to her eyes. Fingers skimmed the dusty books, leaving trails in the gray film that covered everything. One stood out from the rest, a dark red book with something sticking out of it like a bookmark. Taking it from its place, leather against the palm, opening it up and seeing a list written in careful handwriting. Brows furrowed while reading the names.

Dominic Moxley.

Vincent Brooks.

Darrell Moore.

What the hell were Prez and Nyla's adoptive father doing on a list like this?

"Find something?" Chet came over with Law, curiosity written across both their faces. Ipassed the list to Law, watching as he examined it.

He sucked in a sharp inhale, the sound loud in the quiet room. "What the hell?" Law's eyes danced over the words, understanding blooming. "Prez's name. Nyla's adoptive father?"

"Let me see." Chet grimaced as he snatched the note. He blew a low whistle. "These are some pretty bad dudes Darrell’s named with."

"Is it a hit list?" Law asked, worry evident in every line of his body. "Vincent is already dead."

"Prez will be dead soon."

"You shouldn't say that in front of me," Chet chastised me.

Didn't say how he was going to die.

"Gonna bring this back to Grim." Law looked to Chet, “Do you know who Dominic Moxley is?”

“Not exactly,” Chet answered, his words beginning to slur. “Just know he’s someone you don’t want to fuck with.”

Law glared at Chet before snatching the note back from him, paper crinkling in his grip. Chet's eyes drooped as he started to hunch over, adrenaline fading as pain took its rightful place. Law caught him before he hit the floor, supporting his weight with a grunt. "Let's get him to the hospital."

Hospital, where he can just spill all the details? "He'll rat us out."

Law shook his head, a decision already made. "He might die if he's not treated."

"So?"

That made the drowsy man chuckle, the sound wet and broken. Chet grumbled, "Truly don't give a fuck about anybody, do you? Darrell said you were dragged from hell. I thought he was being dramatic."

He was wrong. I did give a fuck about Oakley. She was the only light in a world of darkness, the only thing worth protecting. Barging past them, shoulder connecting with the doorframe, I made my way down the stairs. The only reason I knew they were behind me was the groaning and creaking of the stairs, wood protesting beneath their combined weight as I made my way to the kitchen. I was pulling open all the cabinets and drawers I saw when they reached the entrance of the kitchen, Law still supporting Chet's weight. "What are you doing?"

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