Page 32 of Wolf

“What… what’s goin’ on?” he stammers. His voice is thick and nasal. It’s probably not just the dried blood, either. His nose doesn’t look like it’ll ever be the same again.

I keep holding his face, digging my fingers hard into his jaw and cheeks. “Why don’t you tell us that? What the fuck do you think you’re doin’, huh? Who put you up to this?”

Jake’s eyes roll crazily, taking in the small room and the huge men at my back. Recognition flashes. He’s had run-ins with them, just as Steel indicated. “D-don’t hurt me no more,” he squeaks. “I’ll talk!”

“You better start.” Steel moves forward and leans down, getting in Jake’s face. He gives him a pat on the cheek like I did, a couple rough smacks that escalate into a slap.

Jake whines and shivers all over. “I wouldn’t have done chased that lady if he didn’t offer me more money! Even more than he paid me for vandalizin’ her car. And he paid me just to put that envelope in her mail slot, too. Man, would you have said no? Huh? Would you have?”

“Who was payin’ you?” Steel’s voice sounds almost kind, which makes it all the more disturbing. Can’t trust that tone. There’s poison under the sugary outer layer.

“I dunno. Some rich dude.” Jake pulls in a few struggling breaths as Steel tenses his shoulders. “I swear, I ain’t got no idea who he is. He saw me beggin’ out by the gas station and he asked me if I wanted to make more money in a few days than I’d make all year.”

“Describe him,” I command. I’ve got a pretty good idea who the fucker is, but I want to hear it from Randy’s mouth. “Pull those last few braincells together long enough to remember what he looked like.”

“What do you want with him?” Jake shakes his head as he speaks. It almost doesn’t look like he knows that he’s doing it. It’s pitiful, the way someone like him forms loyalties and attachments over a couple bucks. Here he is, beat half to death, tied to a chair and surrounded by pissed bikers, and he still wants to protect the bastard who got him into this predicament in the first place.

I’m tired of this game. I grab Jake by his shirt and yank him toward me, pulling him and the chair across the scuffed-up floor. I shake him until his teeth rattle in his skull, until fresh blood starts dribbling down his face. “Talk!” I roar.

“Brown hair!” Jake squalls. “Brown hair in a fancy ‘do! He had these narrow blue eyes and he was tall!”

A hand on my shoulder yanks me back. I give Jake another shake before Edge manages to make me let go. Then, he jabs a phone at Jake’s face. “This guy?”

“That’s him,” Jake says and promptly passes out.

I grab the phone from Edge and turn it to give myself a look. The only time I saw Malcolm, he was far away and getting into his car.

The image on the phone is from the website of the law firm where he works. It’s a smooth, professional portrait that really serves to accentuate just how slimy he is. All that slick polish makes me sick because it’s a lie. No one in the world really looks like that. We all get fucked up over time. We get scars and scuffs and stories written into our skin. Not Malcolm Quinn. He’s too perfect for that.

Except if he took off the mask and stepped out of the lizard suit, we’d all see he’s exactly like the rest of us. And he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to be perceived like that and that’s why he can’t let go of Julia, because a divorce isn’t perfection. A divorce means a failure.

Edge takes his phone back from me. “What you thinkin’?”

It’s a question for Steel. I take the liberty of answering. “I’m thinkin’ we go after Malcolm and make him pay.”

“Didn’t need to ask you to know what you want,” Edge says.

Steel is staring down at the unconscious criminal strapped to the chair. “Much as I want to go after this asshole, vigilante justice could make things real damn complicated for Julia real fast. We need to keep this aboveboard.”

“No, don’t say it,” I groan.

“We’re gonna have to go to the cops.”

“And you said it.” I sigh.

“I know it ain’t what anyone wants.” Steel gives me a look that’s almost apologetic. “It’s just what’s for the best. We’ll keep Jake overnight, clean him up a bit, and then tomorrow mornin’ we go to the station to have a chat with Detective Reyes. She gets the criminal and maybe we get a favor we can call on in the future.”

“What will a detective dealin’ with missin’ people want with a low-level criminal?”

“I see that bein’ arrested didn’t give you any knowledge of the legal system.” Steel rolls his eyes. “She can hand him off to the right people, idiot.”

Only loyalty to him keeps me from jumping at him. “Why does it have to be mornin’? Why can’t we do it now?”

“You want to drag him in lookin’ like this?” Steel nods to the blood-splattered stalker. “Or you want to have him tidied up for when we drag him in?”

“He ain’t gonna look any better tomorrow. If anything, the fucker’s gonna look a heap worse when the bruising comes out.”

“Wolf.” Steel says my name firmly, like I’ve been a bad dog. “Once he sobers up we might get more information out of him. Maybe Malcolm had other plans, and we can learn about them.”