Page 60 of The Devil's Pair

“Yes, boss,” Elle said, snapping him a sassy little salute. “Right away.”

She made her sweet drink, then headed out to the bar. Satan’s was still pretty quiet, but then again, it was just gone four o’clock; she knew that in an hour, it would be bustling and by seven, it would be heaving.

Since Wolf had taken The Road Devils legit, all of the club businesses had become safe options for non-MC people. Now soccer Moms and young guys looking to get their second-hand vehicles checked brought them to The Garage, Blue Dragon Ink had every demographic under the sun coming in for tattoos, and Satan’s attracted everyone from barely-legal college kids to hen parties with women well into their fifties.

And bachelor parties with strippers and glitter. Gah. Stupid glitter.

Elle sighed, looked around at the customers, and chose a table far away from everyone else. She needed a few minutes of peace and thought, because she was still troubled and worried about Violet just up and vanishing the way that she had. She drank her coffee slowly, thinking everything through again. Some more.

She’d known, of course, that Violet had been struggling to acclimate to life outside of the cult, and the fact that Ellestilldidn’t know the other woman’s real name was a clear sign of that. Everyone had known that she needed help, everyone had tried to show her support and understanding.

Hell, even the glowering, terrifying Wolf had talked to Violet several times, and he’d offered to pay for her to attend private counselling with a woman who was an expert at deprogramming people who had left highly-controlling groups and dynamics. Violet had made all the right noises, said all the right things, but she hadn’t taken Wolf up on his offer, and as Wolf had told Elle, he couldn’tforcethe woman to get therapy.As he saw it, Violet had to make her own decisions and make her own choices; Wolf wasn’t going to order her to do anything. The second that Violet wanted to reclaim her life on her own terms, she’d have all the backup she could ever need… but she had to make the first move.

Except now she’d run away, and Elle’s biggest fear was that she’d fallen smack into the slimy clutches of someothercult. Elle suspected that it would be a relief for Violet to simply go back to floating on the desires of someone else, just safely playing by the rules, and on some level, Elle even understood that.

Life at the Garden had been frightening and stifling, violent and tense… but it had been largely predictable, and there had been a twisted safety in that. Elle had known what she’d be doing every minute of every day, food had just appeared in front of her, clean clothes magically appeared on her bed. She hadn’t had to think at all, or plan, or argue her point of view. It had been a child-like existence in so many ways, free of both choice and control, and as much as Elle hated to admit it, she still saw its appeal.

Maybe Violet had too… and maybe that’sallshe’d seen after she left the Garden that night. Maybe she’d forgotten about the beatings, and being starved, and raped.

Elle sighed, then saw Rebel mopping his way over to her. She looked on the floor, automatically scanning for objects that might get in his way; the bar was always littered with lipstick tubes, glass shards, cigarettes, sometimes even articles of clothing.

Something shiny and plastic-looking caught her eye now, half-hidden under a far table in the most poorly-lit end of the bar. Elle got to her aching feet and headed over to take a look; when she got closer, she saw that it was a lanyard of some kind. Curious, she picked it up and found herself staring down at thesmiling face of police officer Briley Cross… except that her name was Annette Morris, and she was a nurse at a place called Rose Terraces Nursing Home.

What the actual hell? Whatisthis woman’s story, anyway?

“What’s that, Elle?” Rebel called over to her. “An ID?”

“Yep.” She held up the laminated plastic card. “Briley’s, except apparently she’s called Annette. Did you know she was working as a nurse?”

“What?” Rebel walked over and goggled down at the staff pass. “Nuh-uh, sweetheart, I didn’t know a thing about any ofthat.”

“She’s a real woman of mystery, huh?” Elle said drily. “I think her secrets have secrets.”

“You might be right.” Rebel was still looking at the ID, his face a bit troubled. “But whatever the story there, she’s gonna need this back, no matter what. Maybe she got herself a whole new identity after what happened up at the Garden?”

“That actually makes sense,” Elle said slowly. “I mean,Ikind of have a new one, right?”

“Damn right you do.”

“So… do you know where she is?”

“Uh-huh. She’s staying with the twins.”

“OK. I’ll drop this off to them over at The Garage.”

“They ain’t working today,” Rebel reminded her. “They’re off sourcing that part that Silver asked them to find.”

“Oh, right.” Elle bit her lip. “I’m guessing Viking knows where Dux and Drake live?”

“Of course he does, but why are you asking?”

“Because he and I can drop this off to Briley – or Annette, or whatever, or whoever – on the way back to our place.”

“Nah, sweetheart,” Rebel said. “You guys are way on the opposite side of town from Dux and Drake, but I’m just twoblocks over. Give it to me, I’ll run it over to her. I’m leaving in fifteen minutes, anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

“Totally.” Rebel gave her one of his shining smiles, one that made his eyes light up brighter than the sun. Elle still found it incredible thatthisman – this thoughtful, kind, sweet man – had been a drug dealer from age fourteen, and was intimately acquainted with the inside of a prison cell. It just showed her that people reallycouldchange, if that’s what they wanted to do. “You let your man get you home and into a shower. Hey, did you know that you have glitter in your hair?”

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