Page 51 of Mortify

"That's what I'm wondering. Too much coincidence for him to just show up."

"Agreed. Either he's got intel, or..." Tor pauses, thinking. "Or he's connected somehow. You said Everly mentioned he had ties to the Patriot's organization?"

"She suspected, but nothing concrete. Just comments he made, things that didn't add up."

"I'll start digging," Tor promises. "Quiet-like. See what Mitchell's been up to besides beating on women. If he's got connections we need to know about..."

"Appreciate it."

"How's Everly?" he asks, changing gears. "She doing okay? I never liked that guy."

"She left him," I say, giving him a couple of details, but not too many. "But there’s some stuff she needs to get off her chest, to her Dad, the club."

Tor grimaces. "That sounds serious as shit."

"I'll help her handle it when the time comes."

"Better you than me, brother." He claps my shoulder. "Get out of here. You look like you got run the fuck over."

He's right.

I need to get back to Everly, need to make sure she's safe, need to figure out what Dylan's game is before he makes his next move.

"Regnor," Runes calls out as I'm heading for my bike. "Good work tonight."

I nod, accepting the praise even though my mind's focused on Dylan.

On why he was there. On what he wanted with those photos.

"Is Rati gonna make it?" I ask.

"Doc says yeah. It was touch and go for a bit when they opened him up, but he's stable now. Few weeks of recovery, but he'll be back in no time." Runes studies me. "Gwen’s upset, naturally, but at least her husband’s going to be okay. I mean it, Regnor, good job tonight."

"I’m just doing my job, Prez."

"No, you did more than that." He pauses, seems to wrestle with something. "Oskar mentioned you might have something going on. Something personal."

Here it comes. "Oskar talks too much."

"Maybe. But if it's what I think it is..." He shakes his head. "Be careful, Regnor. Some lines, once crossed, can't be uncrossed."

"Understood."

"Do you? Because Everly's been through enough. If you're just?—"

"I'm not," I say firmly. "Whatever you're thinking, it's not that. I'd never hurt her."

He stares at me for a long moment, then nods. "See that you don't."

If I could put my finger on it, I’d say Vail started the rumor mill when she saw me at Everly’s place last week.

That’s good, though. We want her to do that.

We want this lie to look like it’s the truth.

The drive to Everly's feels longer than usual.

Every shadow could be Dylan.

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