Page 70 of Alfie: Part Two

“That’s all we have,” Eric said.

Finn pointed at the iPad. “That’s the free preview of a video that’s being sold in a fucked-up corner of the internet. We found two of them, and they’re definitely from our attackers.”

I had no words. This was just… I had no words. Beyond revolting. Nauseating—literally. I swallowed hard as my mouth watered like it did before I had to throw up, and my throat felt too tight.

“So this is a sick game they make money off of,” West said quietly. “One attacks, the other films?”

“They’re wearing bodycams, presumably small ones on their shoulders,” Eric answered. “None of the survivors mentioned seeing any cameras, or that there was more than one man—but considering how the attackers are described, we know they’re taking turns. We think the second one simply keeps an eye out while the assault occurs.”

I flinched again, picturing Mom in one of these videos. They’d found two, but if this was a source of income for these fuckfaces, it was hard to believe they’d go through with some assaults without filming.

How the fuck was I going to keep my distance now? I’d struggled for so long already, always forcing myself to be more aloof and shut off about the search, because if I got too close, I’d fucking lose it. And now my brain wanted to spin. I wanted to know if they picked women like my mom because they were simply an easier target. A little older, a little weaker because of their size, less resistance for easy money to sell videos…?

“We have a lead to follow up on too,” Finn said. “Two of the women have, with semi-certainty, identified the same mark on their hands, and we know which club it is.”

I glanced at him. “So it is a club.”

He nodded. “By next week, we’ll have twenty-four-seven surveillance in there, and I’ve put JJ’s crew on a stakeout detail. We will find them, Alfie.”

“We don’t know if they’ll actually be there,” I replied. “They could still be using the club stamp to fuck with the investigation.”

“The club caters to a Balkan crowd,” he told me. “That’s not a coincidence. We’re getting closer.”

Maybe he was right. I knew it was no use for me to ask to be involved again; Finn would just deny me and say I was too close and too emotional. He had a small point—a tiny one—but fuck, I hated being on the outside.

“Furthermore, I tend to get what I want, cousin.” Finn buttoned up his coat and retrieved his phone. “Once upon a time, my wife said she could picture having two or three kids. Now I’m hoping for a fifth boy so she’ll keep going for six and seven.”

Man, I hoped they had a girl. Emilia fucking deserved it!

“Is she pregnant already?” I asked.

“No, not yet.” He looked to be writing something on his phone. “West, I’mma shoot my old man a message. If you wanna vent, keep it within the syndicate.”

West cleared his throat and opened the door. “No venting necessary. Have a nice Thanksgiving, boys.”

I chewed on my bottom lip and watched him head back inside.

My stomach tightened with worries, and I hated feeling the slightest distance between us.

We’d been so good with complete honesty.

“He okay?” Finn asked.

“I don’t know.” I was gonna find out, though. “Today’s gonna suck. Have a good one, guys. And thanks for coming over.”

“No problem.” Finn nodded with a dip of his chin. “We’ll keep you posted.”

“Aight, cheers. Give Emilia a hug from me and tell her I hope you have a girl.” I climbed out of the car and bumped fists with Kellan to the sound of Finn’s bitching.

Music to my ears.

Now I had to confront West.

I was gonna blurt some shit out in true Alfie fashion.

If nothing else, it would distract me from picturing the scum of the earth buying videos of women being beaten half to death.

Praise the lord for small miracles—Trip and Ellie were nowhere to be heard on the first floor, and I wanted privacy for this next bit.

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