Through a Glass, Darkly (Assassins of Youth MC #1) by Layla Wolfe

Author:Layla Wolfe [Wolfe, Layla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B019D8U67Q
Publisher: Quicksilver Books
Published: 2015-12-21T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

GIDEON

It was a fucking shock to my system, going from the arms of that goddess to the shady, devious face of Bronson Carradine.

“How did you get in?” was my first question.

“Well,” he barked in that slick-tongued, sandpapery voice. He liked to amble around my bath tub in a superior, swaggering way. Each time I met the guy, I liked him less and less. Bikers have an inborn loathing of officers who upheld traditional laws, because we had laws of our own to follow. “Since the name of Reed Smoot seems to have finally been deleted from your security software, the name of Immanuel Zabriskie came in handy getting through the gate.”

“Zabriskie?” That was the old Altar of Sacrifice manager before me. He’d also gone to Texas. I instantly knew this meant he’d been murdered too. I’d suspected as much, of course, but anyone whose name became a password, well, they had fallen bravely fighting for the liberties of their country. They had finished a life of exemplary piety. They had changed a fleeting world for an immortal rest, among other epitaphs I’d seen on gravestones near my mine. Was I the next to go? Chiles had said he’d deed me half the mine. Why would he have me “fall victim to an untimely disease”?

“Yes, your old mining mana—”

“I know the name.” I rose gingerly from the tub, water sluicing off my body. Carradine could plainly see the creek of bathwater where Mahalia had walked after getting out of the tub. He handed me a towel anyway. It felt like heaven drying off, clean for the first time in a week. “What’s your business? I need more morphine.”

“Yeah, well, your gunshot wound is the reason I’m here, Fortunati. I heard about the business that went down last week over in the book bindery. You can’t go to an urgent care doctor without someone knowing. Someone’s going to see the bloodstained bandages in the trash can.”

“Yeah.” I snorted, drying my legs. “Someone who’s always lurking around the back alleys of urgent care places, looking for bloody bandages.”

“That’s neither here nor there, although my abilities to wring information out of someone are legendary. Fortunati, I’m here to make a deal with you. I won’t tell anyone about the shootout last week—since then, no one has seen Mr. Breakiron anywhere around the premises, though he hasn’t checked out of his room—if you agree to help me with a sting operation.”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna get Chiles for? Having more than his share of wives? Leave it alone, Carradine. These people are just doing the best they can with what they have. Last time the government tried to step in down here twenty years ago they took away everyone’s children and stuck them in foster homes. Now there was a bad PR situation for you guys. You came off looking like heartless monsters. Oh, right, you are heartless monsters.”

“Take your medication,” advised Carradine as I stepped into some clean skivvies and my jeans. I just wanted to move ahead with my life, not rehash crap with some goofy fed.

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