Page 45 of Shattered Veil

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.”

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