Page 26 of Hunt

“Why?” she pressed, biting the corner of a tuna sandwich.

“It doesn’t say,” I told her, but she quickly dropped the subject and returned to copying my notes.

But I couldn’t stop my head from spinning, thinking of a hundred and one reasons why they had closed the club for the night. A fire? An accident? Oh, I wonder if someone died and it’s become a crime scene. It’s a two-bus transfer to the club, so I won’t bother going down there to spy on them. Instead, I’ll spend the night studying.

I returned to my work, but could not concentrate, and my fingers twitched toward my phone.

“Are you okay?” Cheetos asked as my restlessness was probably annoying her.

“Yes,” I sighed, seizing my phone and swiping for the latest news to see if any headlines were damming Savile. I found nothing, so I swiped through my contacts, deciding who to contact, Ronan or Gunner, Gunner or Ronan. Both boys had been acting strangely lately, so I wondered if something had happened at the club.

Me: I received an email that the club is closed. What happened?

It was Ronan that I decided to contact, since he was my boss, but naturally, I scanned the bookshelves to see if I could spot Gunner peering at me between the books. Weirdo. I ignored the disappointment when I couldn’t see him, but he had classes to attend and assignments to work on as well, so he couldn’t be on my back 24/7.

Cheetos looked up, noticing I was distant, and managed a tight smile, which might be the second I’d ever seen her smile since I met her. Even a smile that seemed forced.

“I guess the ID worked well, then,” she stated, and I chuckled at the irony.

“Well…not really. I think Betty knew it was fake, but hired me anyway,” I told her.

“Oh,” she seemed disappointed, her eyebrows dropping low over her amber eyes behind the glasses. I wondered if her glasses were fake as well.

“They worked it out and allowed me to work there anyway,” I stated, honestly.

“They might get in trouble for that,” she said smugly, and something about her tone made me uneasy. “They’re not exactly nice people, are they, the Kaisers?”

“No, they’re not,” I agreed, “but they treat me fine as long as I work hard, work smart, and scrub the sinks and benches clean.”

“Huh?” She made a strange, grunting sound, as if she thought I was out of touch. No, I wasn’t out of touch. I was completely in touch, but would rather be on another planet.

“How much do you know about the Kaisers?” I asked out of interest, since she had an expression of disgust on her face every time I mentioned that family.

She took a deep breath before exhaling, as if considering how to word her answer. “Only what I read. And my family had a long history of conflicts with them.”

“Really?Yourfamily?” I wondered if she was exaggerating or confused.

“But…The Kaisers have only been here for a few years, apparently.” I was careful with how I worded my statement as I didn’t want to come across as a know-it-all or worse, suspicious of her claim.

“Yeah, they have territory everywhere,” her answer was flippant, as if she were avoiding details. “Or should I say, they steal territory?”

“Did they steal territory from your family?” I questioned myself, trying to remember her surname. Her first name was Katerina, although she’d rather I kept calling her Cheetos; however, I’d forgotten entirely her surname.

“It’s a long story, but they take from everyone. The Kaisers don’t care about people. They care about growing their wealth and walking all over people to get it,” she boldly stated, still avoiding details.

“What is your family name again?” I pressed, so I could Google her family to see if the Kaisers screwed them over and were they criminals too?

She opened her mouth to answer just as Ronan replied to my message, and my focus changed.

Ronan: Not a significant problem. Reopening tomorrow.

His reply left me cold. Usually, he liked to flirt with sweet nothings, yet he and Gunner kept their distance. Maybe something serious happened with the club, but he couldn’t tell me.

“Um, hey, Cheetos,” I started, wondering how to word what I was about to ask her.

“Huh?” She glanced up and ran her eyes over my phone and my expression.

“What other things can you access?” My question was vague, so I tried to reword it. “I mean, you organized a fake ID that allowed me to get a good job, but what other things can you get for money?”

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