Page 54 of Condemned Soul

“Jimmer turned himself in,” she blurts out at me.

“I was there, sweetheart. I saw you arrest him.” I let her know I ain’t buying her bullshit when I backhand her across her cheek, then snatch her jaw in my hand. She doesn’t scream like I expect her to, in fact, she barely flinches.

“Prez is working with me. He’s saving his club.” She closes her eyes as if she’s praying for me to believe her.

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” I pull open her bedside drawer and roll my eyes when I find a gun exactly where I’d expect one to be. I thought these agent types were supposed to have an edge.

“It’s the truth, you can ask him yourself, the place he’s at has no visiting restrictions, you can go speak to him any time you like.” Her voice quivers and she starts to sound desperate.

“Great.” I take the gun in my hand and point that at her too. “You can drive.”

“Now? You want to go now?” She looks at me as if I’m trying to be funny.

“Yeah.” I nod my head as I tuck the knife back into my belt and keep the gun aimed at her pretty, little face.

“I guess I don’t have much choice.” Consuela shrugs as she makes use of the space I’ve given her and climbs outta bed.

I watch her get dressed, in much more casual clothes than she made her arrest in earlier and then, following her out to her car, I ensure she has nothing stowed away in the glove box or under the seat before I gesture to the passenger seat for her to get inside.

“You can climb across to the driver’s seat,” I demand, refusing to give her any chances to lock me out or speed away. Once she’s behind the wheel, I get in after her and buckle up.

“Safety first.” I smile at her sweetly. She snarls at me as she pulls on her own belt and starts her engine.

I remain silent, and somehow hold on to my anger for the entire forty-minute drive to wherever this bitch has Prez locked up.

“You’re gonna have to put that away.” Consuela eyes up the gun I’m still aiming at her, as we pull up to a set of gates. “There are guards to get through and they won’t let you pass if they think you're holding me against my will.” She has a smart-ass look on her face that makes me want to punch her, but she also has a point.

“Okay, doll face.” I reach into my back pocket and pull out the picture I stole from her refrigerator. “The woman in this picture. I’m assuming she means something to you.” I slam it onto the steering wheel in front of her so she can take a good look at it.

“She’s my mother.” I hear a crack in her voice, which confirms I’m right.

“Well, if you try anythin’ once I put this gun down. She’ll be dead,” I warn. “Don’t piss me off.” I open the glove box and shove the gun inside before Consuela pulls up at the gate and flashes her ID.

“There’s a flaw in your little plan,” Consuela tells me once we’re through and she’s parked in front of the building. “She’s already dead.” She smiles me a checkmate smile before getting outta the car, and I scowl across the roof at her as I follow.

“Guess you’re just gonna have to trust me.” She shrugs.

* * *

I sit and wait in the visitor’s room, while Consuela goes to fetch him. The bright, fluorescent lights above my head are reflecting off the walls and giving me a headache but I remain focused because this place has conspiracy written all over it.

“Rogue?” Prez looks tired and confused as he passes the guard on the door and scrubs the sleep out of his eyes. I wait until we’re alone before I speak.

“What’s going on?” I ask him straight. The way I see it, if it smells like shit and looks like shit, chances are it's fuckin’ shit.

“Has Jessie not filled everyone in? I spoke to him hours ago.” He offers me a cigarette and I’m surprised when he takes a Zippo out from his pocket to light it.

“Jessie wasn’t back when I left, but it only took me a few hours to find out your friend’s address. I should remind her of that.” I make a mental note as I tilt my head and narrow my eyes at him.

“You could have asked Maddy, she already had it.” He laughs.

“You think she would have given it to me? And besides, the world can survive without the expertise of Maddy Summers… Donavon, whatever she calls herself these days.” I didn’t come here to talk about the club’s fuckin’ golden girl. I came to fix shit up.

“You said it took ya hours,” he points out, seeming way too calm given the situation he’s in.

“It did. I had to pull some strings and it took me some time. Grimm probably thinks I’m dead in a ditch somewhere.” I shrug.

“I can assure you, he won’t.” Prez laughs, and when he sees the serious look on my face all his humor disappears.

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