I would have liked to hear. “It’s a small town, right? I mean not too small, but small enough. I don’t know what happened, but I do know the case Cherry was working on had her spooked.”

“What was the case?”

She shook her head, almost shivering, despite the heat.

“A series of murders. The whole town's talking about it.”

“Why was Cherry working on it?”

“It wasn’t in any official capacity,” she said. “I told her to stay out of it, in fact. But she’d met a young woman in New Orleans a few months ago at Cherry’s favorite hair salon, and they hit it off. Cherry was always befriending people younger than her — she says it keeps her young herself.”

I laughed, remembering Cherry’s fondness for all the younger Gods.

“So, this woman told her about her friend that had been murdered last year. She had her own suspicions about what was going on, and who might be involved. Cherry tried to pass the information along to the local police, but like I said — nobody seemed to want to talk about it. They wouldn’t even record the tip Cherry had. And well, you know how stubborn she is.”

“As a mule,” I nodded, with a half-smile.

“Exactly. She wouldn’t let it go. So, she hopped on a plane and booked a hotel for a few weeks, and started digging. My guess is she found out something that someone didn’t want found out.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Cherry’s never had a car accident in her life. I drove by the spot where she wrecked and none of it makes sense. It wasn’t raining. It was dark, but there weren’t any curves in the road. And, even though the police report said no other cars were involved, I saw photos of her car and it sure looks like she was smashed into. There’s even a bunch of red paint from another car that transferred onto her black paint job, but no mention of that in the police report, either. And they won’t let me near the car, either.”

“You have a copy of that photo you can send me?”

“I’ll do it as soon as I get to the hotel room.”

“Thanks,” I said. “And thanks again for calling me. I’m here as long as necessary, until we get to the bottom of this. If you need anything at all, you call me, okay?”

“Thanks, Ryder. Cherry said you were a gem and now I know why.”

“I owe a big part of who I am to Cherry,” I said. “I’ve known her for more than half my life, and if someone did something to cause this, you can bet your ass I’m making them pay.”

I pulled her into my arms and held her close for a minute.

“You sure you’re okay being alone right now?”

“I’m just going to crash for a few hours and I’ll be back.”

“Okay,” I said, letting her go.

She drove away with a wave and as I turned to go back to Grace and Cherry, my head was spinning with a hell of a lot of unanswered questions.

This town may be small. They may not like a bunch of us wandering around and kicking over rocks, but I wasn’t about to leave until I got the answers I was looking for.

And if someone purposefully hurt my dear friend, there would be no stopping the pain I was going to unleash on them.

Chapter 5

SLADE

I fucking love to travel. It’s one of my favorite parts of my job, and since I have an allergy to staying in one place for too long, it suits me well.

I gotta admit, though, that no matter where I manage to travel to, it never fails that I get stared at. It’s like folks have never seen a handsome, tattooed, bald guy before or something.

When I’m wearing my cut, it makes sense. Nothing draws the eyes more than a bunch of burly dudes all wearing matching leathers. I get that.

But it happens even when I’m not wearing it, or when I’m alone, just walking down the street in a fucking t-shirt and Levi’s. Of course, the women stare — but can you fucking blame them? Look at me.

But the dudes, the older people, you’d think they wouldn’t be so enamored, but maybe my charm is just that magnetic, who knows?

So, yeah, as soon as I stepped off the plane in Savannah, it’s been a constant stream of double-takes and wide-eyes.

Fine, whatever. To say I’m used to it would be an understatement. I suppose I’ve come to expect it now.

I’ve learned to use it to my advantage because it doesn’t make my job any easier. Sometimes, it would be beneficial to be a little more incognito. I’ve yet to figure out how to make that happen, so I work with what I have.

Walking into the Kehoe House, the hotel Riot booked for me to stay in, is no different. Of course, as soon as I saw how nice the place was, I knew I’d have to really lay it on thick.

Riot gets off on trying to put me in uncomfortable situations. I get off on punching that face of his, so it's a fair trade.

One of his favorite things to do is book me in hotels he thinks I’d never book for myself. I let him think it freaks me out, but to be honest, I fucking love them.

I might be a brawler, a bit crass, and love my bike as much as I love my lady, but the truth of the matter is that I’ve learned to love all this fancy shit. Sure, it was a little uncomfortable at first, but once I had my first bite of a fucking quiche, or a poached egg with Bernaise sauce, I was so into it. The soft-as-fuck sheets and turn down service with a goddamned chocolate on my pillow wasn’t anything to complain about either.

I’m one hard motherfucker, I get that. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy nice things. So, I complain to Riot so

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