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“More like at the bottom of the top fifty and sliding down each year that your father continues to serve as mayor,” Kendric replies.
His resentment bothers me. I know I’m not supposed to be on the receiving end of it, but it still feels that way. “I am not my father,” I tell him.
“But you are remarkably ignorant to everything that he’s doing,” he says.
“Okay, so he’s not the best mayor,” I sigh and roll my eyes. “But he’s not alone in city hall, is he? What about the councilmen? The commissioner? The chief of police? The sheriff?”
“All of them are dirty in one form or another,” Raylan says.
I can’t help but chuckle. “You’re starting to sound like you need a tinfoil hat.”
“Do you remember the RICO operation in south Everton from last spring? ” Kendric asks, giving me a sour look.
It takes a moment for me to dig through my mental archive, but yes, I remember hearing about it on the news. “Some big operation that got botched. Innocent people were killed. I think the dealers got away with the drugs and the money. DEA took the fall, right?”
“They had to. Someone had to take the fall,” Kendric says. “The police commissioner was in on the whole thing, but the DEA can’t touch him because of The Black Hand—”
“Ken, stop,” Sky interjects, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s too soon.”
“Too soon for what?” I ask, increasingly confused.
Raylan finishes his soda and tosses the empty bottle into one of the recycling boxes by the back door. “You’re not ready to hear the whole truth, Randy,” he says, using my made-up name. I like the way my name rolls off his tongue, but I accept that we’re out of the clubhouse and, therefore, I must stick to this persona instead. “Let’s just say there’s an organization operating in the shadows, pulling the strings of various elected officials and allowing the worst kind of people to get away with doing some truly terrible things.”
“Okay, apparently, tinfoil hats are a must,” I scoff, stubborn as ever.
It prompts an endearing chuckle out of Sky. I think he’s gotten used to my automatic and ultra-sassy skepticism by now. It actually makes him laugh, but he also seems to enjoy watching my face drop whenever I’m faced with the undeniable truth.
“You do know that there’s always a seed of truth behind every conspiracy theory, right?” Sky asks me. “Someone paid someone, someone got away with something, the right bribe made it into the right pocket, and certain charges were dropped. It didn’t matter who got hurt in the process as long as certain individuals were allowed to continue to be out in the streets, operating and pumping dirty money back into the Swiss bank accounts of folks who are frequently praised as pillars of the community. It’s been the way of this world since long before we were born.”
“And you’re what, exactly? Secret vigilantes taking on the cabal?”
Kendric cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowed and cutting into my soul. “You could say that. It’s got a nice ring to it, though it’s nowhere near as fancy as you make it sound.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” I reply, nodding back at the rooms and the constant sound of fingers pounding on keyboards. “They don’t show this part in the movies.”
“The nitty-gritty,” Raylan says. “But it’s true, Randy. There are dark forces at work all over Everton, hell, all over the state. And we’re not strong enough or big enough to face them directly, not when they weaponized the media against us as soon as they figured out what we were doing.”
I don’t know why, but I am tempted to believe them. Everything I’ve seen so far tells me that the Steel Knights aren’t up to anything dirty, despite what the press says. There aren’t any drug deals going down, not that I’ve witnessed, anyway; no forms of trafficking or gun running. Sure, they operate outside the law with this place, but it’s actually for the greater good. Where are those big, bad biker warlords that my dad is so determined to put in prison for the rest of their lives?
All I see here are concerned citizens making sure that certain crimes and underserved communities are given the appropriate attention from law enforcement. It further confuses and irritates me because my narrative is constantly crumbling right under my nose. I’m left blank and speechless with nobody to hate, even though I am still their prisoner.
“So, people in the city know to call the hotline?” I ask after a while.
Kendric nods. “Yeah. Word of mouth gets around. A lot of folks are afraid to speak up, but there are chatrooms, Reddit boards, and stuff like that. We’re careful in how we advertise the tip line and always screen the calls before we ask for details.”
“Have you had pranksters calling the tip line, as well?”
“Plenty. But once it became clear that we were doing something useful with the information that we were getting, the prank calls fizzled out,” Kendric replies. “I guess the people understood that we’re doing the right thing and that they should keep our lines free for real trouble.”
I find myself enthralled as I look at Kendric in the overhead kitchen light. I’m unable to pull myself away from him, unable to peel my eyes off him. There’s a constant buzzing in my chest whenever he’s close. My heart is skipping beats, and my panties are getting wet. I can’t stop thinking about that night with Sky. Raylan’s kiss. It’s all spinning out of control. I’m supposed to hate these men, not want them in every possible way.
Am I losing my mind?
The next morning, we’re leave the clubhouse again.
By now, I’ve learned enough about their tactics to know when they’re free to move about and why. I’ve spotted enough seemingly innocent cars parked outside and farther up the road to be able to identify them. They’re cops in unmarked vehicles positioned close enough to keep an eye on the place. They can’t do a 24/7 surveillance operation because they don’t have sufficient manpower, and besides, the Steel Knights’ lawyers file enough injunctions to keep the local PD extra busy in the courtroom on a daily basis.
Sky, Kendric, and Raylan did their homework before they abducted me, and I have to admit, I’m impressed. Truth be told, my urge to escape has been shrinking a little more each day. The more I’m with them, the more I wish to know. It’s a hard pill to swallow, learning that I’ve been living with rose-colored glasses for most of my life.
