Page 34 of Savior

“Jesus, who rolled over?”

“That’s the bitch of it,” I admitted. “I don’t know. Cobra wants me to believe it was Mikey or Bear, but that don’t make a goddamn bit of sense.”

Slim smiled. “Bear? Easiest way to find out if it’s him would be to check his blood alcohol level. Fucker tends to drink himself into a stupor when he’s stressed out. You know what I’m talkin’ about.”

I smiled at the truth of his words. “You should’ve seen him at your funeral, Slim. He’d pour a shot out for you, then knock one back. He passed out on the porch, so we dragged his ass into the bed of David’s truck, left him to sleep it off. Only, we didn’t know that David and Elizabeth were stayin’ down in Port Arthur.”

“Oh, Christ.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “He woke up covered in seagull shit with no idea where the hell he was.”

Slim wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes as he erupted in another fit of laughter. “Sounds like Bear. You really think he’d turn on you?”

“I don’t know anything anymore. Someone put me here… just wish I knew who that was.”

He ran his hands over his face before folding them under his chin with a resolute nod. “What has this Cobra guy given up?”

I shrugged, fighting to remember anything important that might’ve been said before I’d been beaten into unconsciousness.

“C’mon, Jamie. Think. Why does he want you to think it’s Mikey or Bear?”

“They want me to think the club’s turned against me?”

He nodded. “Don’t forget that. They’ll use it to try to get into your head. Today, it’s Mikey. Tomorrow, it might be Celia. Fight to hold on to what you know. Would Bear roll over?”

“No,” I answered firmly.

“Good. Now tell me who would.” Slim leaned back in the chair, somehow looking more alive as a zombie than I did with a heartbeat.

“I got no fuckin’ clue. I’ve been lookin’ into it for the better part of a year, and I’m no closer now than when I started.”

Slim disagreed. “You’re in the goddamn lion’s den. What better place to be when you’re tryin’ to catch a rat?”

I held up my left palm as far as the restraint would allow. “Better place? Look at me, Slim! I’m a fuckin’ mess of broken bones and torn ligaments. Even if I solved the entire goddamn thing, it don’t help anybody right now.”

He lifted his leg and rested his boot down near my feet. “If they wanted you dead, you’d be dead. As that ain’t the case, you gotta think like they are. What’s their goal?”

I closed my eyes to sort my jumbled thoughts.

Death is comin’ for you…

“Celia,” I croaked. “Saint wants Celia.”

“Why?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Okay,” he said calmly. “Who do you know who would want to hurt her?”

“Betsy, but no way in hell is she behind this. No club would back a woman. There’s a chance it could be Celia’s parents. Norma took our girls… maybe she wasn’t plannin’ on stoppin’ until she’d taken everything…”

“And? Who else?” Slim pushed.

I shook my head, staring blankly up at the ceiling. “Nobody besides Cobra, but he ain’t the one in charge. That make any sense to you?”

He scratched at his long beard, lost in thought. “I feel like there’s somethin’ we’re missin’ here. Almost like we’re lookin’ at it the wrong way, ya know?”

I did because the idea that someone had orchestrated a war and taken me out just to get to her seemed like overkill. “I figured out the badge who was workin’ against us.”