Page 28 of Property of Spike

The sound of a fax coming through breaks the silence.

“I’ll get it,” Skip grunts. “It’s probably for me anyway.”

He’s right. The only faxes that come through are things involving money. That’s Skip’s domain.

“I’ll make contact with the Serpents,” Tank says, breaking the silence. “When are they wanting to come through?”

“Next Friday,” I say, flopping down in my chair.

“Should be fine on our end as long as their reasoning is sound,” he tells me. “By the way, your brother called. Said to tell you that you can’t avoid him forever. He’ll be here next month.”

“Call him and tell him I’m busy all next month,” I demand.

“He wouldn’t listen if I did,” Tank chuckles. “Just as stubborn and hardheaded as his big brother.”

My mind keeps circling back to Riley and the way I tore into her. It’s my fault she went back to that bastard. I was so angry at the thought of her walking straight into the police station, right into his hands, that I couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. Every venomous thing I said feels like a weight on my chest.

“You listening, Prez?” Tank’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts.

“No,” I admit, shaking my head. “Hehitsher. She told us that herself. And she justwalksright back into his arms?”

“Spike, you know damn well she didn’t go back to him because she missed him,” Maverick says, his tone calm but firm. “She went back to keep the cops off our doorstep. I’m not saying it was the right call, but her heart was in the right place.”

“She didn’t even give us a chance to help,” I say, frustration lacing every word. “We’ve got someone digging into Chuck’s background, but she bailed before we could get anything useful.”

“Because youpushedher away,” Skip snaps, his anger clear as day. “You couldn’t pull your head out of your ass long enough to hear what she was trying to say before you tore her apart with your words. Of course, she left. Why the hell would she stay after that?”

“Skip, back the fuck off,” I warn, my voice low.

“I don’t think I will, Spike.” He steps closer, glaring at me. “Forget for a second that you clearly felt something for her and her kid, though you were too much of a coward to face it. Let’s focus on how fucking stupid you were with your words. I watched you tear her down, blow by blow. Every time you opened your mouth, I saw the trust in her eyes shatter. And you,” he jabs a finger at my chest, “you let it happen.”

The room falls silent as Skip steps back and tosses a thick folder onto my desk.

“We haven’t gotten anything on Chuck yet,” he says, his voice tight, “but we’ve got plenty on Riley Hayes. It came in about an hour ago. I made it through five pages before I had to stop.”

My stomach knots as I flip open the folder. The first page freezes me in place: a photo of a younger Riley, sitting in a wheelchair, her entire left leg in a cast. Behind her stands Chuck, smiling like the devil himself. A car accident report accompanies the image. It says Riley was severely injured, while Chuck walked away with little more than a few scratches.

Skip’s voice is heavy with disgust. “She downplayed her entire life with that bastard. When I asked her if he hit her, all she did was nod. But it wasn’t just hitting. He’s been abusing her for years. And thenyou, with your shouting and the vile shit you said, hit her just as hard. I’m ashamed of you, Spike.”

I take the verbal punch and turn the page. A police report stares back at me, detailing a mugging. Photos show Riley with finger-shaped bruises around her throat. I flip to the next page. A medical record of a swollen chin and black eye. The attached police report blames a man Chuck had sent to prison. Another piece of revenge Chuck orchestrated, no doubt.

“He’s covering it all up,” I mutter, the words bitter on my tongue. “Every single thing he does to her, he’s got the power to bury it.”

“Yeah,” Skip says coldly. “Good thing she walked back into his arms, huh?”

He tosses another piece of paper onto my desk.

“One more thing,” he says. “Apparently, Chuck has a damn spy inside the compound.”

My blood runs cold as I grab the paper and start reading aloud.

The monster has eyes inside. I tried to tell you before, but something always got in the way. I don’t know his real name,but I know the name he goes by over there. And I know his face. I won’t mention names here in case I don’t have the right fax number, but it hit me as I was leaving why he looked so familiar. It’s your gate guy. Not the first one. Although, he was a creep. The one with the kind eyes. He’s working for the monster. I’m not sure it’s by choice, though. I overheard the monster telling someone a couple of months ago that if you-know-who didn’t come through, then he’d lose someone close to him.

Please don’t be too hard on him. Thank you for your kindness and generosity. Don’t worry about us. Little Man is safe. I’ll keep my ears to the ground and reach out if I hear anything you need to know.

Always,

Your Little (ugh, rolls eyes) Friend.

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