Page 23 of In Death, Love Survives
“I just mean, he’s beyond your help.”
“No one is beyond my help,” I retort.
“Nova, I know you have a huge heart. It’s one of my favorite qualities about you, but Wolfe belongs in jail. He’s a monster.”
I take a deep breath as I tap my nails on the table.
“I don’t believe that.”
“Well, I know some things,” Ryan says.
Oh, well, now we’re getting somewhere. Maybe I won’t have to ask after all. What does he know? Maybe a few sips of beer will make him spill.
“Like what?” I try to ask innocently.
Ryan twitches his mouth in debate.
“What I’m about to tell you has to stay between you and me. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“I’m serious. I could lose my job.”
Yikes, okay, this is what I want to know.
“What is it?”
Ryan glances around the bar, ensuring no one is close enough to overhear the conversation.
“Wolfe is being held here temporarily. He’ll be transferred soon to a private facility. There’s so much off the record that he’s done, it’s wild.”
“Like what?”
“He leads a club about a hundred miles north of here. They’ve run everything on that side of Montana for years. Even with him here, he’s still in charge.”
My eyebrows furrow together.
“How do you know this?”
“Crawley told me.”
“It just doesn’t make sense,” I say.
“It’s the truth.”
Wait, a club? That just doesn’t add up.
“What do you mean by a club? That could be so offensive, Ryan. I don’t even know where to start with how wrong this whole conversation is.”
Ryan scoffs and takes another sip of his beer.
“He’s the president of the Saddle Creek Road Riders Motorcycle Club. He’s not exactly a prestigious doctor like we are.”
“You still shouldn’t talk like that.”
“Fine, I’m sorry, okay?”
My shoulders tense as I try to come to terms with this mess of a conversation. This week has shed light on a side of Ryan that I haven’t seen before and certainly don’t like.
