9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

" D eep breath, brother." I attempted to hold Luke back with my arms around his stomach, yanking him backward as he grunted and fought my hold on him from behind. "Goddamn —Luke!" He jerked forward in an attempt to break my grasp, and despite our difference in size, he was nearly able to break free. I called behind me, "Liam!"

"Yeah, yup, I'm here," he rattled off, jogging to take my place. I stepped back as he grabbed Luke from me quickly, bear hugging him with his brawny arms around his shoulders and his hands clasping over his chest. He spoke to Luke calmly, "He's on the ground, bud. What are you gonna do?"

I glanced at Colton—Liam was right. Knocked on his ass, Colton was gingerly touching his face and wincing, and he didn't appear to be going anywhere.

"Ya didn't even give me a chance to say anything," he grumbled, blinking hard as if he were warding away stars. " I'm not here for Claire. I'm not fuckin' nuts." His eyes flickered behind me to the table we were all once sitting at, and he offered everyone a weak wave. "Uh, hi, Claire."

I looked to find both Zoey and Cassie standing out of their seats with wide eyes—Zoey assessing Colton's sincerity with a clenched jaw and Cassie's expression one of bewilderment. Remaining seated, Claire tore her eyes from Liam, who was still containing a now stationary Luke, eyed Colton, and replied with a large exhale:

"Hi."

There was nothing but heavy breathing from the direction of Luke and Liam and a quietly whispered, "Ow," from Colton as he traced along his cheekbone with his fingertips, until Cassie spoke:

"Who…who the fuck is this?"

The question could have been assumed to be directed at me because she was staring my way with an inquisitive, dark gaze as she said it. It wasn't, though…it was for the entire group because it was clear that everyone aside from Cassie was either alarmed or enraged—or both—at the mere sight of Colton. Despite that, I still debated how to respond for there was much that Cassie simply…didn't know.

She didn't know that when Claire had moved to Salem, it was as a means of escape from her criminal past. She didn't know that said criminal history was interwoven with her ex-boyfriend, Colton. And she definitely didn't know that he had inevitably blackmailed her into returning to her hometown. It was nearly one year ago that Claire had left Luke behind to sort out her old life, all of our newfound group came to her aid, and, in the end, several of us were far from worse for wear. Claire had been drugged, held for ransom, and a knife was lodged deep into one of her thighs. Liam's clavicle was shattered after a bullet went clean through him—the details of which he had, no doubt, kept from his sister. Luke was grazed in the gunfire along his ribcage. The man who was responsible for the injuries was gunned down by the police. Colton, however…was off scot-free.

It was all history that I didn't care to revisit, for we had healed since then. Well, we had healed enough to deal with the next traumatic event—the one that had rocked us all to our very core and seemed to be currently resurfacing. But we had healed, nonetheless…and, no, we didn't tend to speak about it. That was Claire's story to tell if she were so inclined to do so, and Claire was not one to speak about her past, so it remained behind us—assumed to be dead and buried. Colton was assumed to be metaphorically dead and buried to us. Yet, here he sat, quietly speaking to Cassie from the floor with a gritty :

"Ah— red's ex." Cassie glanced quickly to Claire and then back to Colton, and he introduced himself, "Colton Langdon." Colton looked at her curiously, as if he were trying to place her. "Who are you?"

The way he asked the question wasn't malicious in the least, but for some reason, it still made my chest sink.

Liam thumped Luke on his chest twice and asked, "You good?"

Luke nodded, the murderous glare still in his eyes, yet he remained in place, and Liam hesitantly released him.

Liam then snapped at Colton, "Don't talk to my sister. Fuckin' leave."

"Liam," Cassie argued, looking to her brother incredulously.

He pointed at her and chastised, "Don't."

"Fuck off!" she retorted. "I can take care of myself!"

Liam groaned to the ceiling, "You think I don't know that? I just mean—"

"Not to interrupt the whole fam-damily," Colton interjected, slowly moving to stand, "but this was not what I intended."

"Was there something that you did intend?" Luke sneered from behind Liam, and Liam held out a hand as if to warn him not to move .

"Ah, Luke," Liam spoke to him in a murmur that was all too clear within the quiet of the bar, "I thought you wanted him out of the bar. May not want to open a can of worms on this one—we're kinda-fuckin'-busy."

"Are you?" Colton returned with high eyebrows.

"Yeah, I'm not enjoying the worlds colliding here, either, Liam," Luke hissed, ignoring Colton's remark. "Five minutes."

Claire spoke, "Why are you here, Colton?"

"Here, here?" he asked. "To drink. I had a long night, and—for the record—I didn't realize it was past two in the morning. That was my bad."

"Why the hell are you in Salem?" Claire returned with more bite.

The initial shock that was painted on her face had washed away, and it was now replaced with something far beyond mere frustration.

Colton glanced to the front door and back, looked at all of us with a rather contemplative expression, and began to ask, "Are…are y'all good?"

"Nope," Zoey spoke this time. "As far as I'm concerned, you can go buy yourself a one-way ticket deep into hell's asshole."

"We' ve never been on the best of terms, have we?" Colton returned, an odd, Cheshire-like grin growing on his face.

"Colton," Claire stated his name quietly, but it was as if it rang through the air.

Colton held up a hand in Claire's direction. "Uh-bup-bup," he voiced. "Give me a quick l'il minute here. I haven't had the chance to absorb all this." I was priming myself to say that he didn't need to absorb anything when he cocked his head at the table we were once all sitting at and continued with, "Y'all are tense… past close at a bar," he gestured at Luke without turning toward him, "your bar…but not a drop of alcohol on the table between the six of you…and when I first walked in, it did not seem like you were leavin' any time soon." He squinted at Claire. "You're nervous… really nervous…and it's not because of me." His eyes narrowed even further as he murmured, "What did you do?"

"No." Liam said, "I'm not having you up in Zoey's business—"

Colton gasped dramatically, whipping his focus to her. "Zoey! You?! What'd you do?!"

His candor that had morphed from initial shock to confident, cocky, and questioning shot directly under my skin, and I yelled :

"For the love of God—we need to know that you aren't here to fuck any of us over. Just tell us why you're fucking HERE, Colton!"

Colton looked at me with eyelids halfway over his gaze. "If it makes ya feel any better, it has absolutely nothing to do with any of you."

I muttered, "Why do I have a hard time believing that?"

I had meant my question to be rhetorical, but he murmured in return, "You may be right," in a way that came across as mystified. Colton glanced around the room, asking, "I'm assuming that y'all live nearby?" None of us answered, and he seemed to take our nonresponse as a confirmation. "'Kay… anyway— this cute, sleepy li'l town has women going missing out the wazoo. Cue my arrival."

Wait, what?

Cassie spoke my exact thoughts aloud, "Wait… what?"

Colton looked at her with an interest that was piqued to the point that it unsettled me, and he inquired, "Are y'all really not in the loop on this?"

Cassie's question and my internal concern were sidestepped as Luke sharply spoke, "No, we're not in the loop on that. What, are you looking for more women to trick into being rescued?"

He used his fingers as quotation marks on the last word, and Colton's eyes hardened ever-so-slightly .

"Luke," Claire warned him with a pointed gaze.

"I'm feelin' some tension from ya," Colton retorted back to Luke. "Do we need to clear up that I never tricked Claire into any of the shit we did?"

"Yeah, until you fucking blackmailed her!" Zoey exclaimed disbelievingly .

"Hey, my life was on the line." Colton looked to Claire and said seriously, "You know that. I would've never—"

"None of us want to hear an apology, Colt!" Zoey returned.

"Well, fuck, I'm aware of that," Colton stated. "Tried to apologize once before, and pretty boy here punched me." He gingerly touched his cheek, saying to himself, "Don't think this one'll bruise…"

Luke's eyes widened. "You showed up at the goddamn hospital after Claire was stabbed, and Liam and I were shot!"

Cassie, whose pretty head was ping-ponging between everyone as they spoke, nearly vibrated as she took in Luke's admission.

Just as Luke was beginning to say, "Of course, I punched you," Cassie shrieked at her brother:

"You were shot?! What in the actual fuck, Liam?!"

Liam threw his blonde head back as he let out a loud groan. "A whole year ago—"

"A year?" she questioned. "That— that's what happened with your shoulder?! You said that you dislocated it, you lying fuck!"

"Now's not the time to get into it, Cas," Liam admonished her.

Cassie sank with a thud and the heaviest of eye rolls back into her chair, crossing her arms as she sat.

I shook my head rapidly because Colton's initial confession was still ringing in my ears.

"Do we wanna, like, address the fact that Colton said women are going missing in Salem?" The room fell silent once I spoke, and then I ordered Colton, "Tell us how you know that, why they're going missing, what that has to do with you being here, and then get out."

Colton nodded slowly, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he seemingly thought to himself, and eventually replied:

"Yeah… yeah." He clapped his hands once, as if he had internally come to a conclusion on something. "Yes, I can do that, 'cause I think y'all are makin' me start to smell fate." His eyes oddly bright, he took in a large breath through his nostrils and, upon letting it out, asked, "Is anyone else smellin' fate? "

Claire's elbows audibly hit the table as she held her head in her hands and grumbled, "Oh, good God, we don't have time for this."

"Oh, I'll be quick. Can I…" Colton pointed at the bar; his unfinished question went unanswered, and he strode past a dumbfounded Luke and Liam to take a seat. He sighed as if the load off his feet was a necessity, swiveling on the stool from left to right. "Alright— how do we wanna do this? Can this be like an I show you mine and you show me yours type of deal, or what?"

All of us simultaneously spoke different variations of, ‘We aren't telling you jack shit,' and he waved us away.

"I'll go first," he remarked. "I know about the women because, over time, I've come to know of some very bad men. These very bad men are taking these women—I'll stop there with the details to save your virgin ears. Anyway, this all loops in with me 'cause what they're doing is fucking disgusting, and I'm trying to stop them."

Luke tilted his head to the side as if he couldn't quite hear him correctly. "I'm sorry…someone's, what, paying you to…"

"Oh, no-no," Colton waggled an index finger in the air. "No one's paying me to do anything—ya see, I thought I hit rock-the-fuck-bottom after all the shit with you guys with my debt and the, ah, everything else. I didn't. Long story. I'll save ya the trouble. Point is—badder and badder work acquaintances equals more and more money." He snapped as he shot a finger gun at Luke. "I've got money, now. But all that also equals badder and badder shit to do and a shittier and shittier conscience." Colton concluded, far more somber than I expected, "Just…just tryin' to clean my slate. That's all."

I scoffed. "We're supposed to believe that you've been doing vigilante shit?"

Colton beamed. "Vigilante shit. That chicken soup has been good for the soul, man, fuck."

"Okay." Luke stated disbelievingly, "Sure. You're a vigilante. That tracks."

"What are you, twelve-stepping your way across the eastern side of the United States?" I sarcastically retorted. "Did ya find a narcissist's anonymous group? Did they give you a program for recovery?"

"Guys," Claire interjected, gesturing to herself, Zoey, and Cassie, "We're women. We all live here. Color me concerned regarding the potential missing women." Luke exhaled heavily, and Claire added, "And why you're so fucking eager to tell us all of this."

Colton wryly asked, "I'm not allowed to catch up with friends?" All of us collectively groaned—some with profanity and some without—and Colton's voice hitched up higher as he alternatively noted, "It always feels good to tell people that you're tryin' to better yourself?"

Claire admonished him with a biting, "Colton."

"What?" he chuckled back. "I am. Is that so hard to believe?" None of us had a response to that, and he sighed, his voice dipping deeper as he said, "If your reputation is squeaky clean in this town, you're safe, okay? Most of the missing women were in cahoots with some cartel, or…or they were prostitutes or strippers."

It was far from what I had anticipated, and my heart leaped out of my chest. I quickly glanced at Cassie to find her staring at Zoey's water. I took a deep breath as quietly as I could manage, let it out through my nose, and repeated the action over. When I saw that Colton was peering at Cassie as if he were awaiting her to speak, dread settled in my gut.

"As to why I'm telling you anything at all…like I said… fate," Colton continued, moving his focus to Claire. "You think I wanted to run into you guys? You have so much fuckin' dirt on me, you could whisper in the cops' direction and I'd be behind bars. But, coincidentally, I'm here…and so are you." His tone turned from serious to grave as he admitted, "The situation's fucked, and I'm on the outside lookin' in here. If any of you have anything— anything— that you could tell me…now's the time."

The situation's fucked.

Colton, of all people, was saying that the situation was fucked.

The situation was fucked, and amongst many women, some exotic dancers had been taken for only God knows what. In this area of Virginia. Where Cassie secretly works as an exotic dancer. At an establishment that Cassie had oh-so-briefly mentioned was understaffed due to dancers going, as she had termed, MIA.

I desperately wished that I could toss everything he had told us out of my brain. That I could say, ‘Welp, that's just simply not true, and it's time for you to go now, 'kay bye,' and usher him out the door. As much as I didn't want to believe him, though, it was all too coincidental. The puzzle pieces fit, and furthermore, I couldn't think of a single reason that Colton would have to lie to us with the amount of conviction that I saw in his eyes—and that made it all the worse.

My hands shook, and I thrust them into the pockets of my jeans. My stress-induced tachycardia remained, and though the very real threat that Liam had announced to us all earlier was still unresolved and fresh in our minds, this knowledge still felt dire. Insane as the feeling was, and as much as I hated the fact that he was here at all, I suddenly felt as though I needed Colton to stay. To give us more information so I could be assured that Cassie wouldn't be in danger…or, conversely, so Cassie would realize that she had to…I don't know, quit her job? Distance herself from the clubs? Lay low while the dust settles with whatever he's involved in before going back to her life as normal?

That assurance couldn't be obtained—not without completely outing Cassie to the entire group. She would hate me for it, of course, because this was her life and she was living it the way that she wanted to, but keeping my mouth shut wasn't a viable option. Ushering Colton right out the door he had strolled in minutes ago without any further explanation was…impossible. I mentally gathered my words, preparing myself to speak on the matter, but Claire asked first:

"What about you scratch our back, then we scratch yours?"

The way she said it was all too casual. I felt my head tilt to the side as I tried to understand her intention, and everyone else remained silent until Colton slowly replied:

"Not what I was hoping for, but I'm listening."

"No questions asked?" she requested.

He shrugged. "Sure."

Claire announced, "We've got a lock to pick. "

The swift return of our conversation regarding 2D was forced by her hand, and I pulled a sharp, surprised breath through my nostrils. What sounded next was entirely simultaneous:

Luke exclaimed, "Are you out of your goddamn mind?!"

Liam groaned, "Oh, God," and lifted both of his palms to press them to his eyes.

Zoey's gaze turned bright with a desperate hope, and her jaw hung slightly agape.

Cassie simply raised her eyebrows.

Colton glanced to Claire. "Why can't you do it? You've got muscle memory. I'm sure you'd pick it no problem, whatever it is."

She said nothing while Luke rolled his eyes heavily and threw a single hand in the air just to let it fall against his thigh with a smack.

"She just can't," Zoey snapped at Colton, "but you can."

Liam murmured, "Zoey," whilst Luke simultaneously barked:

"Fucking no! Are you kidding me?"

Her expression near crazed, her high pitch trilled back, "Would you two rather commit fucking arson and burn the complex down?"

Luke and Liam's complaints halted in their tracks. Liam mumbled a reluctant agreement at the obvious severity of the situation, and Colton murmured, "Complex?" while Zoey continued:

"I'm not letting this shit ride. The point is that someone needs to get in that apartment."

"Y'all need to break into an apartment?" Colton asked, eyebrows high as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Whose?" Our collective hesitation to that question, brief as it was, made him whisper, "Interesting."

"It is not getting interesting," Zoey bit back. "And as tired as I am of seeing your mousy-ass face—"

Colton muttered, "Mousy?"

"It's in the nose," she clarified. "And the ratty personality. Like I said, as much as I don't want you here, you are. Therefore—apartment. Break in, potentially snag a few things while you're in there." She bluntly stated, "Scratch. I, personally, think we've done enough for your ass to not need to figure out how we can scratch your back in return."

"And no questions?" He asked with a grimace. "Yeah, I'm not super keen on that idea; picking the lock on a residence and stealing shit out of it is a big fucking ask."

"Uh huh, because you're a total stranger to thievery," I sardonically snapped.

"If you think it's too big of an ask, then leave," Claire told him with a challenging gleam in her eye. Colton visibly sighed, and she crossed her arms defiantly. "Oh, I'm sorry— is that not a good option for you?" Claire asked him in a sickly-sweet tone, "Are you worried about what you're getting into because you're grasping at straws? Do you think that asking us a few questions could be beneficial? After all, we do work at a bar, and drunk people tend to talk. Maybe we heard a name that you know of being mentioned, and it could give you a point of direction—I dunno. Does that sound like something that could be helpful to you, but you don't have anything to hold over our heads and make us talk? Is there nothing you can do to force things to go your way?"

Colton's expression twisted at the last two sentences of her sneering monologue, conveying his remorse for the past, and he returned in a raspy tone, "Fuck…I really am sorry, Claire."

What had appeared to be pride at Claire's harsh words had comingled on my brother's face with his prior anxious frustration, but that all washed away and turned to disgust as his focus high-beamed on Colton. The left side of his mouth pulled up in a silent snarl, but he held his tongue.

Claire hesitated, her jaw clenching before she said, "I don't need your apology. I need you to break into this apartment for us. You can ask us questions after—about your shit, not ours."

Colton pursed his lips as he took in her words and began to bounce his head from side to side as if he were regretfully debating the pros and cons of assisting us.

"Is no one else concerned that he'll just hold this shit against us and threaten blackmail again?" Luke asked as devil's advocate.

"How in the fuck would I do that?" Colton returned, throwing about an arm to gesture between himself and Claire. "We have dirt on each other. That's why we can peacefully cohabitate on the same goddamn planet." He then pointed to the ceiling, moving his finger in a circular motion as he said, "Let's circle back—if I'm nabbed for breaking and entering, I'm getting five to twenty years—"

Zoey exclaimed, "That much?!"

"Yup!" he replied, popping the p. "My point is if I help you— if— that risk is on me," Colton tapped his chest, now speaking to Luke, "not any of you. And that's a pretty fuckin' big risk. So…do you want that on you?" He paused, and then waved in Claire's direction. "On her?" Luke's reluctance waned at the mention of a threat to Claire, and Colton concluded, "Then, please… tell me that you have something for me aside from potential bar gossip, 'cause as sorry as I am and as much as I'd love to do this out of the goodness of my heart, I don't know if that's enough. Help me help you. "

Claire and Zoey both pressed their lips together tightly, and that was when I caught Cassie's eye because I was anticipating her to speak up with an admission. An admission that, of course, didn't reveal all of the details that Colton would crave, but enough to usher him into assisting us. I watched her as she opened her mouth, bracing myself for a raucous reaction from the group—mostly Liam—and then, she promptly closed it. Colton glanced at her with a raised, expectant brow that said he was ready for her to prove him right in his assumption of fate .

Cassie's focus flickered from me to him and back again. The remainder of the group was too occupied elsewhere in their thoughts to notice the split second of her hesitation, but I most certainly wasn't. Her dark eyes met mine, I saw the hint of a plea within them, and without bracing myself to so much as think, I blurted out:

"I was at a strip club about a week ago—Gas Lamp."

Cassie's shoulders lowered as she let out a long exhale, and I was sure that Luke, Claire, Liam, and Zoey's heads had all turned to me, but I paid them no mind. I solely waited for Colton to pull his eyes from Cassie, and when he did, he appeared to be assessing me with a generous scrutiny.

"Gas Lamp, really? I was casing that place a few days ago. "

"Mhm," I told him. "It's understaffed."

He nodded. "That it is."

"I was told some of the dancers skipped their shifts."

Colton squinted. "They ever come back?"

I shrugged. "Don't know, but I can find out."

He asked, "How?"

The question was an obvious one, and it was directed at me from not only Colton, but everyone else with the exception of Cassie. Their confused, questioning expressions caused me to sigh, and I noted vaguely:

"I'm close with one of the dancers. We can talk later."

The bewilderment abound was immediately replaced with surprised understanding. I had no doubt that the questioning regarding said closeness and what that entailed would bombard me at some point, and I was ever-thankful that this was not that time.

Colton gave me a curt nod, and I pressed, "Is that enough?"

"Dammit," he groaned. "Yes. It's enough."

Zoey spoke again quickly, as if she were concerned that he would change his mind, "We don't have much time."

Nervousness at the upcoming events aside, relief still swarmed me to know that he would stay. That whatever Peter Milkovich kept in that closet could be known only to us. That the opportunity to speak with Colton further had been created, and he wouldn't simply disappear into the night, never to be seen again. I glanced at Cassie, saw my sentiment reflected back to me in her eyes, and she held my focus. Without having to say a word, she recognized my inner thoughts and subtly—rapidly—mouthed a silent, ‘Thank you.'

I blinked, and the moment was gone. Our eye contact broke, I pushed the thought of the potential danger in her life aside, and forced the current threat for us all to the forefront of my mind.