Page 109 of Ink's Devil

Chapter Thirty

Beth

“Dirt. Can you give us some space?”

“Sure. Look, I overheard, okay? I’m fuckin’ sorry for your loss. Of course, you want to grieve without a virtual stranger hanging around.”

After having him staying in the house for a couple of days now, a stranger isn’t exactly what I’d call him. But he keeps himself to himself, and most of the time, we don’t know he’s there. But I need him out of the way. I don’t want the prospect-hopeful to report back any of the discussion I’m about to have with my mom.

Dirt walks off and I wait until I’ve heard his footsteps clear the stairs and the door of the guest room where he’s staying close.

“Why did you dismiss Mace so abruptly, Beth? He may have had more answers to give us.” Mom stuffs her fist into her mouth as though to stop more sobs coming out. I’m angry, she shouldn’t be made to feel this upset.

“Because Connor’s not dead. Or not yet,” I tell her, starting to pace.

“What?” Mom shrieks. “What are you talking about, Bethany? Why the hell did that man come and tell us all that if it’s not the truth?” She picks up the paperwork Mace had handed to her and holds it up. “What’s this if it’s not proof that he’s dead?”

“Doctors can be bought, Mom.” I roll my eyes. “And we got details about how, who and where, and basically instructions to arrange a funeral.”

“So, what more do you want to be told? Bethany, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but bad as it is, I’m certain it’s true. Connor’s gone…”

“No, he hasn’t,” I hiss, coming over to sit next to her on the couch. “I don’t know why, or what good it will do, but I think the Devils have got him. Maybe to use as a bargaining chip to get Ink out of jail or something.”

Mom stills. Her brow creases. Then she reminds me as if talking to herself, “They did take the eight kilos of drugs. Maybe it’s too tempting. Would they use Connor to get more? Maybe they deserve their reputation. Just who are we dealing with, Bethany? Do you really think he could be alive?” There’s a spark of interest showing through her grief. God, I pray I’m not making her hope for nothing. “The Devils aren’t known for running drugs, but I suppose that much falling into their laps could be hard to resist,” she continues.

“No, Mom. Do you think Mel would stay with Pyro if they got into that type of business?” I watch as she blots at her eyes, but only to mop up what leaked out previously. There’re no fresh tears falling now, so that’s a start. “I think it’s more likely they’ve got a plan to use Connor to get Ink released.” From what I’ve seen of the Devils, they’d do anything to protect or help one of their own.

“How?” she reasonably asks.

“I don’t know.” I hadn’t thought that far. “What if they forced him to say he was the one delivering the drugs, not Ink?”

“But Ink was caught with the drugs on him. What difference would that make? And why make us believe he’s dead and ask us to arrange a funeral?”

“I don’t know,” I repeat, almost as a wail. “But there must be something.”

Mom just looks more confused.

“He’s alive, Mom, I feel it. Why else would Mace suggest we wouldn’t want to view the body?”

Mom stands, her hand pressing down on the arm of the sofa to provide leverage. Mace’s visit had caused her to age twenty years in the same number of minutes. She crosses the room unsteadily to get to her purse and takes out her phone. When I go to ask her who she’s calling, she waves me down.

She taps on the screen for a moment, scrolls up and down, and then selects a number.

“Phil?”

Oh my God. She’s ringing my sperm donor.

“Yeah, it’s Patsy… Yeah. A long time… Cut the crap. I’ve just been told my son is dead…”

“What do you mean you heard that as well?”

“His body was taken by persons unknown? So his mom and sister could bury him?”

My eyes widen throughout what I can hear of her side of the conversation. It sounds like someone’s told exactly the same story to my dad.

“How did he get hurt? Alder’s name was mentioned…”

“He’s gonerogue? What the hell does that mean?”

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