Snitches got stitches.
It was a playground taunt but one that was all too real where I’d come from.
I couldn’t say anything to the cops. I had no real information to give them anyway.
I needed to know more about who I was dealing with. I needed to know what my brother was involved with, and how it now affected me.
I needed to find his killer, because clearly, the police weren’t even going to try.
9
BLISS
Psychos was only marginally less terrifying in the middle of the day. The parking lot was empty of all but a handful of cars, but the one I was looking for was parked in the same spot it had sat two nights prior.
At the door with the terrifying sharp-toothed clown logo, I took a deep breath and pushed through.
There were no burly bodyguards on the other side this time, which was a relief because I didn’t like either of them.
The floor was sticky beneath my shoes, and I walked gingerly across it toward the bar, my shoes making a ripping noise as I pried them off the gummy floor. It was easier to move today. Only a few patrons milled around the room—two guys with motorcycle club cuts stood at a pool table, while other men sat on chairs watching a football game on a big-screen TV. It was still a dive bar, but with the blinds pulled open and sunshine streaming in from outside, it wasn’t nearly as intimidating as I knew it could be.
“Get outta town. Disney, that you?”
I spun around to find Rebel standing with a tray of drinks resting on her jutted-out hip. She grinned at me, her many ear piercings shining in the natural light. Her pixie haircut was adorable, and her eyes looked huge, edged with dark makeup. She wore more clothes today, her skirt still short, but her shirt covered her breasts and belly. Doc Martens were laced up her calves. It was a distinct downgrade in sexiness than the piece she’d worn on Sunday night, but even still, it was a world away from the conservative blouse and slacks I’d chosen for the day.
I gave the woman a tentative smile and raised my hand in a half wave, grateful at least for her smiling face. “Hi. Yes. Me again.”
“Minus the ball gown.”
I smoothed my hands down over my shirt and laughed awkwardly. “Uh, yes. They aren’t exactly my everyday attire.”
“They’re my never day attire, so you still got me beat. Looked good on you though. I’d wear ball gowns all day every day if I had the tits to pull them off.” She gestured at her quite flat chest. “But as you can see, the big guy upstairs did not bless me in that department.”
“Who needs tits when you got booty!” one of the guys yelled from the table nearby, who had clearly been eavesdropping on our conversation.
Warmth heated my cheeks. I was embarrassed to have been overheard, but Rebel grinned at the older man with a long gray beard and pumped her fist in the air. “Damn straight! You know where it’s at!”
She shook her hips, and the old man gave her a genuinely warm smile, which she returned easily.
She leaned in close to my ear. “That’s Gunner. He’s here every day. Sweet old bugger. Tries to play it cool for his biker buddies, but I know he’s got a couple of little grandkids who he loves more than life itself. If you get him alone, he’ll show you pictures of them and tell you all about how they can count to fucking five. Nobody cares, but we listen and say nice things anyway.”
I could picture it. The man did seem a bit like a giant teddy bear with his broad shoulders and rounded belly. A teddy bear who could potentially pull a gun or a knife on you at any minute, of course, but I’m sure he saved that for when the grandkids weren’t around.
Rebel nudged me with her elbow, drawing my attention back to her. Her face had sobered. “Hey, uh…I’m…” Her tough-girl, punk-princess exterior wobbled for a second, and she pressed white teeth into her bottom lip while she composed herself. “I’m really sorry about your brother. He was one of the good ones.”
My eyes instantly filled with tears at her assessment of him. I’d always known it, despite what the cops thought, but it meant something to me that other people had as well. There weren’t many good ones in Saint View, but Axel had absolutely been one of them. Whatever he’d gotten himself into in the last few years, he’d always be the brother who’d saved me even when he couldn’t save himself.
I nodded at Rebel, and the both of us stared at each other while we tried to fight back tears. She recovered quicker than I did and clutched my arm, digging her long, painted fingernails into my skin. The bite of pain shocked the urge to cry out of me, giving me something else to focus on.