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They set out on the eight-block trek back to the club. Brendan’s phone rang in his pocket.
“Hey, Dill.”
“No, man. Still nothing. We just left there.”
Abruptly Brendan stopped mid-stride and stood frozen in the rain, his jaw slackened and his eyes widened. He shook his head. “That’s the craziest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Chloe’s right, it can’t be a thing.”
Brendan sprinted down the alley and unlocked the red service door to the club. “I’m checking. Google says it’s a thing.”
Taylor didn’t need to ask what the thing was that Brendan was going on about. His phone pinged with a text message update from Chloe. He had to read it twice just to make sure he’d read it correctly.
What the bloody hell?
“Yeah, man, working on it. Drive safe.”
They eyed each other, but too stunned to speak neither said a word. Brendan went behind the bar and threw him a towel. “I need a drink.” He filled two frosted mugs from the tap. “I’ll put a food order in with the kitchen. Burger?”
“Sure, mate. Thanks.”
Brendan made a phone call. From the sound of it he was talking to the detective he knew at the police department. He no sooner finished the call when one of the kitchen runners came through the door that connected Charley’s kitchen to the club with their food.
“Hey, Brendan.” He set the plates in front of them. “How’s Linnea doing? Did she break it?”
Taylor shifted his gaze to a startled Brendan, who almost choked on his beer. “What?”
“Her foot. Is it broken? I hope not, ’cause that would sure suck. Not being able to work or anything—”
Brendan grabbed the kid, he didn’t look a day over eighteen, by the wrist. “You spoke to Linn?”
The kid’s eyes nervously darted back and forth between he and Brendan. “Well, no, not exactly. She left a voicemail…”
Brendan jumped up from his seat still holding the kid by the wrist. “Come on.” They followed him through Charley’s kitchen and down the hallway to Dillon’s office. Marcus, having noticed the commotion, joined them there.
He sat at Dillon’s desk. Taylor took a seat in the chair across from it. The same chair he sat in when he hid in the office the day of the staff meeting. The first time he’d laid eyes on the cherry bomb—his little bird. It felt like years had passed since then. Had it really only been a few months?
Marcus spoke. “What’s going on, Brendan? Did Jason do something?” Apparently the kid had a name. Brendan held his hand up in a signal to silence him. He was punching buttons on the phone on Dillon’s desk. He fast-forwarded through a couple messages until they were all listening to the voice of the little blonde.
“Hi, it’s Linnea. Can you do me a favor and get a message to Kyan—it’s really important. Tell him I’m sorry I had to leave.” She sniffled and laughed a little at the same time, like she was embarrassed—Taylor thought it was a laugh anyway. He couldn’t say for sure. “I’ll explain it to him later, but tell him not to be too angry with me. Please. Anyway, I fell on the sidewalk. I broke my phone and maybe my foot. I need him to come get me. I’m at my neighbor’s place. Kodiak…”
She rattled off an address on Eighth Avenue. Right around the corner from her row house on Oak Street. Across the street from the park. They’d walked by it at least a half dozen times this morning.
“And tell him I love him.” The timestamp was shortly after midnight.
“When did you get this message?” The look on Brendan’s face was murderous.
Jason swallowed. Taylor could see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Umm, right after she left it. We were prepping for the breakfast buffet and I couldn’t grab the phone in time, but I wrote down everything she said and went to look for Kyan. Miss Salena stopped me and told me she’d take it to him.”
Well, well, well. That fucking cunt.
Why was he not the least bit surprised?
“Thank you…uh…Jason.” Brendan blew out a breath. His jaw ticked and he still glared with anger, though Taylor suspected it was for an altogether different reason now.
“Is Linnea okay?” Brendan didn’t reply so the kid from the kitchen expectantly looked to Taylor for an answer.
“She’s fine, Jason,” Marcus supplied before Taylor had the chance to. “Go on back to the kitchen now, and thanks.”
Jason nodded and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.
