Cracking his knuckles, Silas tells him, “Now I can’t go around giving away all of my secrets.”
“You’re a sick bastard,” Wirth says with a shake of his head.
“Keep her in one piece,” Malcolm reiterates, as if it’s necessary. “And no mind-fucking either.”
“I’ll do my best,” Silas agrees when he gets to his feet. Malcolm then hands him the piece of paper with the address I’m responsible for finding, making me feel a little queasy. “Give me…seventy-two hours; then report her missing.”
“Seventy-two?” Dev asks.
“Yeah, man. It’s going to take a little time to line shit up.”
“You sure you can handle this?” Malcolm asks.
“Yep,” Silas answers.
“All right then. Good luck. Stay in touch as much as possible,” Malcolm replies.
“Might be tricky to reach out with what I have planned, but I’ll check in when I can.”
With a nod from Malcolm, he takes off.
And I’m not the only one who looks nervous. If his best friends are worried, that’s not exactly reassuring.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Nash
Solitary confinement is lonely; but honestly, I would rather be alone with my thoughts than crammed in with half a dozen other stinky bastards in a six-by-eight cell.
Here, it’s quiet, peaceful, unlike the constant chaos in gen pop. I’m free to close my eyes and drift in and out of sleep with my memories of the past weekend with Lucy.
Those were the best few days of my life, despite the circumstances or the location.
By the second night we were together, the one right after the wedding, missing Ellie was the furthest thought from my mind. Lucy was what I had needed all along to finally move on. I hate that it took so long for her to find me and that we had so little time together. I spend most of my waking moments replaying every conversation we had, every touch and glance we shared, etching them permanently into my memory. They will be the last happy memories I have for the rest of my life.
The best I can hope for now is just this — a barren, silent room with only one comfort. At least in here, I can close my eyes without worrying about what the maniac in the next bunk might do to me while I’m unconscious. I found out quickly that you never really sleep when you’re in jail. Everyone inside is a nervous cat, only one breath or twitch away from exploding, never able to completely let their guard down and relax.
It’s the most exhausting thing I’ve ever experienced. When I really think about it, I’m pretty sure that the anxiety of general population or the silence and sensory deprivation of solitary are just two different lanes on a highway leading to insanity. I don’t know how long the trip will be to get there, but all I can do is pray an exit comes along before I arrive.
Lucy
I’m pacing back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the pool hall bright and early, waiting over an hour for Malcolm when he rolls up on his bike around ten-thirty. The only reason I didn’t show up at his house to harass him was because I didn’t want to wake up the baby or piss off his woman.
“What’s taking so long?” I yell at him as soon as he kills the engine.
“It’s only been two weeks since the chef went missing. These things take time,” he grumbles as he climbs off and removes his helmet. “Jay isn’t too happy with us right now either, thinking we had something to do with it.”
“We did!” I say, causing him to glare at me, looking left, right and behind him to make sure no one overheard. The street is clear. I’m not that stupid.
“Get inside and don’t say another word!” Malcolm snaps at me.
Once we’re inside the air-conditioned building, I can breathe a little easier but not much.
“Have you heard from Silas yet?” I ask softly as he goes around turning on the lights.
“No. I haven’t,” he huffs. “Not since that day in the chapel when we gave him her address.”
“Do you think he…”
Before I can finish the sentence, Malcolm cuts me off. “He wouldn’t have killed her, not without my okay.”
“Well, dead or alive, the DA still hasn’t dismissed the case. What if they have more evidence now?”
“If they had more evidence, they would’ve had to turn it over to Jay. And as of his email last night, since he’s insisting all our communication be documented to protect his license, he hasn’t received anything new.”
“Ugh!” I groan as I slump down on a stool and rest my head in my hands. “Every night they show her face on the news.”
“I know,” Malcolm mutters with a sigh.
“It sucks.”
“Yeah, it does. Naomi keeps going by her restaurant and getting takeout because she wants to do something for the ‘poor woman and her employees who are missing her.’”
“You haven’t told her…”
“Fuck no, I haven’t told Naomi. We have a kid together, and I’m trying to get her to marry me. This is the last thing I need her to find out – that I’m responsible for the kidnapping and who knows what of an innocent woman.”
“I thought you said you didn’t think Silas would hurt her.”
“Hell, I’m not sure of anything anymore! The fact that the bastard won’t answer my calls isn’t exactly giving me warm fuzzies.”
“Well, it sucks, but what’s done is done. Hopefully, Cora is okay with Silas and the fact that she’s MIA means Nash will be a free man soon.”
“Hopefully,” Malcolm agrees.
Chapter Thirty
Nash
For the first time in…weeks, months, I don’t fucking know, the heavy steel door to my solitary cell opens and in it stands one of the guards looking bored.
“Let’s go, Kincaid.”
“Go where?” As I sit up on the lightly padded bench, I have to swallow deep and clear my throat because it’s so dry from not speaking to anyone in forever. “Has it already been thirty days?”
I lost track of time
