Chapter 10

CHAPTER

TEN

PIKE

It had been quiet the last few days if you didn't count the dead animals I'd found on my doorstep. We hadn't had any issues, but now we'd had a series of arsons in so many days. Kicking the rubble of the shop wall, I looked over at Cross with a grimace. This was the third arson to hit one of our businesses. These weren't accidents. Fuck.

"We got to figure this shit out." He tossed a can against the back wall in frustration. "We're losing product, and we're lucky nobody got hurt. Really lucky."

He definitely wasn't wrong about that. I wasn't as worried about the product as I was about people getting hurt. With the bodies being dropped and these fires, my nerves were frazzled. We'd examined burn patterns — and looked for clues... all to no avail. There was nothing here. Whoever was doing this was smart.

"Prez, look what I found," Axel said, hauling a guy with him that reeked of gasoline even from where I stood.

"What do we have here? It looks like we have ourselves a little firestarter, don't we, boys?" Pulling some gloves out of my pocket, I yanked them on with anticipation. You know this is our property here, right?"

"I'm not talking. You can do anything you want." The guy was foolish, probably around thirty, but definitely not from around here.

"Okay," I said, looking around the area until I found some cable and wire. Kicking it loose savagely, I yanked it until I could pull it from the moorings. "This will do."

"Should I get a chair?" Cross asked. He wasn't as game for prolonged torture, but he was in. No matter what happened, I knew I could count on Cross.

"Yeah, bring one over here."

Trussing my little arsonist up, I tied him tight to the chair and surveyed my handiwork. "You didn't struggle much," I said.

"Didn't see any point," he said sadly. "I'm already dead."

"You are," I agreed. But when you find out your options on how you'll die, you'll wish you had tried a little harder to get away."

"There's already been a fire." One of my MC guys muttered.

"True. Gasoline?" I asked. "The guy in the chair blanched. Burning to death would never be my choice. It was right up there on my list as one of my top five ways I wouldn't want to die, but hey — here we were.

"Sure, Prez. Hold tight." I smirked at the man.

"Wait, wait, wait! Don't! Look, you can kill me." He gulped, his throat bobbing. Interesting. "Just not like that." Wow, his tune had changed quickly.

"Ok, I give you my word." I meant it.

"We got paid to set the fires. Some blond dude. Tattoos. The guy looked super creepy. He said if we didn't do what we said, he'd kill us slow."

By the time we'd gotten the information out of him and I'd sent out my men after the accomplices, I was starving. True to my word, I had mercy and killed him quickly — sort of.

"You know we're going to smell like a fucking fire now," Cross said grumpily as we left the warehouse.

"I mean, it already burnt down." I shrugged. "Let's get lunch?" I suggested.

"Sure, we can hit that Indian place you like," Cross agreed. I was an equal-opportunity food lover, especially when I could choose what food it was. One of the things I hated in lock-up was the food. It was boring as shit. At least out here in the world, I could experience all the nuances offered; even if our small corner of Arizona wasn't the biggest culinary mecca that ever existed, I was still happy as a clam.

Cross waited until I'd gotten on my bike, and then we set off for the restaurant. He'd been extra vigilant, making sure that I was accounted for. We hadn't spotted a tail, but Ronnie said there still was one. She hadn't clarified, but I knew she could provide proof if I asked. At lunch, I would tell Cross to drop off the extra detail. If someone was following me, I wanted to allow them to get close again. Maybe I could catch them.

?

After our bellies were full, I hit Cross with my plan; he was less than impressed by the scowl on his face.

"Who do you think you are? Some action hero?" he complained. "What if this is a Fed, and they catch you doing something shady? Or if it's the serial killer? What about this blond arson guy that we're looking for?"

"Well, this isn't working, is it?" Now, I was grumpy about it. Cross was a good guy, someone I considered a friend, but I was bored. This whole looking over my shoulder bullshit needed to be done with. Yesterday, I helped Natasha and Ronnie move into their new place, and Cross followed me the whole time. It was bad enough that they had guards at the gates and the doors, but Cross, on top of everything, threw my entire mood off. It was hard to relax when you had people watching your every move. We had been careful not to tip off anyone if it was someone undercover following me. Other members handled any club business that wasn't legal right now, which I didn't mind so much. If it was someone else — well, I could handle it.

"I guess not," he admitted. "It's on you, though, if someone takes you out. Asshole. I'll be pissed."

"I'll be dead, so it won't matter to me, will it?" I smirked. "Not to mention you'll take over the club, so it seems like you should be thanking me as my heir apparent."

"Fucker, I can't believe you. Heir apparent," he guffawed. "You can be a real surprise sometimes."

"Got to keep you guessing." Shooting him a wink, I headed off towards my bike — alone, which was a relief. We'd parked in the shade of the alley because it was over a hundred, and the sun was a bitch on the seats of the motorcycle. Even through your jeans, it wasn't super pleasant to sit your ass down on hot leather. Without any more niceties, Cross shoved his helmet on, gave me a nod, and took off on his Harley, gunning the bike out into the street. He needed to oversee a shipment today anyway, so he would have had to leave later. It might as well have been now.

Tipping my head back, I drew in a breath. It was nice to be alone for a moment.

"I missed you, brother." A man was propped in the doorway of the opposite building. They stepped into the light, and my heart nearly stopped. Could that be? Eli? My brother, who I had thought was dead for years, standing there? I told everyone I thought he wasn't dead and forced Nat to check — but now I wasn't sure. For a second, I was paralyzed. The years fell away, and I was a kid again, looking after my little brother. Then, being told he'd drowned out at that God-forsaken pond at Kent's... Eli, alive, standing in front of me. Eli had that same scar near his eye, right to the corner. He'd bled like crazy, and I'd been so worried.

"Eli?" I croaked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Is …it really you?"

"Not here," he cut me off, glancing around the alley. "We need to talk, but not out in the open."

I nodded numbly, my mind struggling to catch up with this new development. He motioned for me to follow, and we ducked through the back alleys connecting these last few blocks of the edge of Morinrock until we reached one that was dusty and abandoned—perfect for a private conversation.

Once we were inside, Eli turned to face me. The last time I saw him, he was barely a toddler—five years old- like a little somber man. It had been hard to explain, and I'd not tried. My brother, as a child, was an old soul. The couple of placements we'd had were decent couples looking to do something good and kind but hadn't known how to help a child like Eli. He hadn't wanted to play like other children. He'd been a character from one of those creepy movies watching you from the shadows with his hands behind his back and a knife in his pocket. This was just a grown-up version. He didn't look much different—older, bulkier—but it was still him—the same piercing eyes and stubborn set to his jaw.

"What the hell, Eli? I thought you were dead." The words burst out of me, a mix of relief, anger, and confusion.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I wasn't given a choice."

"What fuck are you talking about?" I demanded. "You disappearing nearly killed me. I've spent years thinking about how I failed you. How it was my fault."

Eli sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Whatever happened wasn't your fault, Pike. We were children. Kent fucked us both up. You know that. That's not really why I'm here." His eyes darted away. "Move against the wall a little out of the window's view."

What the hell?

"Look. None of that shit is as important as what's happening here," he said urgently. "The killings aren't me, but someone is fucking with us both. This person is dangerous. I need you to take this seriously." My mind raced, trying to figure this out. So, if the killer wasn't Eli, then who was it?

"Is it the guy from prison? Holder?"

"What? Who?" Eli shook his head like he was having a hard time hearing. Then he continued, annoyed, "No, listen to me. This is important to your safety and those girls' safety." That made me take a step forward.

"The girls? Nat and Ronnie? Those girls? What girls, Eli? You aren't to touch them," the words came out harsher than I meant. I'd stepped too close, crowding him against the wall so close that I could see that there was another faint but deep scar that cut along my brother's collar under his shirt. Stepping back, I took a breath.

"I won't hurt them, but he might," he hedged. Then he asked, "What's the blonde girl's name? The pretty one."

I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he talking about Ronnie? Must be. "They're both pretty, but the blonde is Veronica. Never mind about that. Tell me who is going to hurt them. Who are you talking about?"

"There's a kid I used to run with," Eli explained. "When I got away from Kent, I fell in with a rough crowd. There was one kid, in particular, who got close to me. We were friends." He stuck his hands behind his back, a classic Eli move. "I ended up confiding in him about everything—how we grew up, the things Kent did. His name is Victor." The seriousness in his voice sent chills down my spine. I was trying to process things. When I got away , so if he didn't drown, then he didn't get away. That's what he was saying. So when the police came and took me away to a new placement after Kent because of the ‘drowning' he'd been stuck there. I'd been moved to Arizona, and my baby brother had been stuck in a nightmare. Oh my God.

He watched my face and tracked my thoughts because he said it easily. "Kent is the one who is responsible," he reassured me. "I know you feel like you didn't do enough, but I didn't get in touch on purpose. I remembered you." Suddenly, I was angry—not with myself or Kent, but with him.

"Why? Why the fuck not? I'm your brother. I love you."

"I don't want to talk about that." His face closed down. Suddenly, I realized how little power I had over this situation, and it didn't sit well.

Fine. Fine. Fine. He could think that we wouldn't talk about it, set his face in stone like that, but we would talk about it. I poked my finger at him. "If you think this isn't a conversation we will have, then you're wrong."

"Victor is here because of me, and that's why I'm here now," he continued calmly, ignoring that I was pacing, scrubbing the back of my neck like I had poison ivy. "He's going back through our past and killing these people using a method that I'd use." My skin chilled. What the actual fuck was my little brother telling me. That he killed people? I'd thought about this. What would my brother be like as an adult if he was messed up? If he killed people, but was that what he was telling me? That he went around scooping up eyes like they were collectibles?

My confusion grew. "This Victor? You think he's the one doing this?"

"I don't just think," Eli said grimly. "I know. He's copying the killings to make it look like I'm the one behind them. He's using everything I told him, all my nightmares, to throw you off."

"Why?" I asked, anger bubbling up. "Why would he do that?"

"Victor's twisted," Eli said, his voice filled with regret. "He thinks he's doing me a favor, giving me some justice, hoping to return to my good graces. It's also hard to understand how he thinks. He's theatrical. He knew this would get my attention." I wasn't sure that I was even following. That he was copying the killings to frame Eli? Or was he trying to get into Eli's good graces … which was it? But Eli didn't see that I struggled to catch up or even believe his words.

"We had a falling out. But he's dangerous, Pike—more dangerous than you can imagine." I wasn't sure where to go with any of that. All of it was a minefield. That some weirdo was trying to do him a favor by killing people from his past or that he'd had a falling out with a killer. Jesus.

I clenched my fists, my mind reeling. "Why didn't you come to me sooner?"

"I was trying to find him, to stop him," Eli said. "But he's slippery, and I didn't want to put you in more danger. But now… now he's getting closer. I had to warn you. He might come after you, too. There was a time that I blamed you."

A heavy silence fell between us. I looked at my brother, really looked at him, and saw the pain and fear etched into his face. He had been through hell and back and was here, risking everything to warn me.

"He'll go after Kent?" I asked, my voice barely audible. I wouldn't say it outright, but I had a tracker on Kent. If Victor was going after Kent, that gave us a solid warning to try to set a trap, and I had no issue using that asshole as bait. Victor wanted to kill him, and that was as fine as a frog's hair to me.

"Look, I'm fine with Victor going after Kent. I can lock that down, no problem," I shrugged. "That's great information." Eli looked skeptically at me. "I've had Kent in my sights since I was a teenager. I'd visit him — give him a beating and let him loose. Break a few bones. On the anniversary of your ‘death,' I'd visit him. Fucker never said a word that you weren't dead, though," I said sullenly. Granted, I hadn't tortured him for information. Maybe that should have been my goal. I should have taken Dimitri. The guy was wicked with a knife.

Eli gave me a ghost of a smile. "He wouldn't have told you. Kent knew who to be scared of. He's probably pissing himself right now." The thought brought me immense satisfaction, and then I remembered that I almost went back to prison for Victor's stupid stunts.

"Well, let's go touch base with Nat and Ronnie then. You'll stay with me," I said. Eli looked shocked, shaking his head.

"No, I've managed not to alert Victor to my presence in Morinrock, and I will keep it that way. Hopefully, I can catch him first, but I needed to let you know what you were dealing with. The blonde girl was starting to ask too many questions about me in certain chat groups," he hedged, and I made a mental note to talk to Ronnie.

"Veronica," I reinforced. "Or Ronnie. Not the blonde girl. She has a name."

"Right. Look, I'll see you soon." Eli stepped closer, his eyes locking onto mine. "And it would be best if you were ready. Victor's coming, Pike. And when he does, you need to be prepared to fight."

"I'm pretty good at fighting now." Long ago, I was a child unprepared for the evil in the world, but now I was a man who had seen what the world had to dish out. I had survived and learned that there was nothing but standing your ground and fighting one battle after another. "We can fight together."

Eli's smile was faint, and a shadow of doubt crossed his face. "I don't know, Pike. I might be as twisted as Victor. Maybe more."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. The uncertainty in his voice, the self-doubt—it made me realize his scars ran deep. "You're my brother, Eli. We'll figure it out."

He looked away, his jaw clenched. "I hope you're right."

"It's enough, buddy." I meant it, too. Although my insides squirmed at the thought of how fucked up he could be. I would figure it out. That didn't mean I would be lax regarding Nat and Ronnie's security.

He left the warehouse ahead of me, melting back into the alleyways. I had the answer I'd always hoped for, but in place of that hope, I had this unsettled, oily feeling about how to deal with the broken remnants of the brother I longed for. Eli wasn't whole by any stretch, and I wasn't sure if it was even possible to put him back together.