Page 5 of What's Left of Me

“So, she just threw out to you one day, ‘Hey, Boo, I get some vibes that the Saints are immorally gray, and you must tell me what’s going on’?” JJ quirked a brow.

“No. She doesn’t talk like that.” Four cocked his head at me. “Can you tell them?”

Angel was leaning against the archway, a bored expression on his face. He was so over the blabbing, so I decided to get on with it.

“Right, so this girl, her name is Hazel, and her brother needs a safe place and protection.”

“Why?” Gabe asked.

Shep stepped forward. “Her brother is Phoenix Briar; you don’t recognize that name because the cops didn’t release it yet. But he’s The Broken-Doll Killer’s victim, the one that survived.”

The entire room fell silent, which was a feat in itself. Surprisingly it was Angel who spoke, and he was actually nice.

“What kind of shape is the kid in?”

“She said physically, he’s fine. Whatever happened, no one knows because he’s not talking much—only to her. And whenever he does speak, it’s to say things like ‘Nothing matters.’ He doesn’t think he’s worth all this, and he’s lost in his head.” Shep held his hands up. “There’s more to it, though.”

“Of course there is,” Mason muttered.

“The feds, police, and his psych team will need access to the house.”

“Hold up. So you’d want him staying here, where this insane killer might be trying to get to him, and while we try and keep him alive, we have all these strangers in and out?” Nick argued. “That’s got a lot of bad shit attached to it.”

“I know. It’s why I told Hazel there needed to be rules.” I glanced at Shep, who nodded in encouragement. “I told her the police could camp out at the edge of the property, only two in the house at a time to talk with Phoenix, and that I’d see if Aziza would head up the therapy part. She’s aware of who we are, and she’s the best.”

“So no cops on the premises, and after questioning they leave the house?” JJ quirked a brow.

“She said she would make sure of it if we agreed.”

Nick pursed his lips. “Mmhmm.”

“Whatmmhmm, what the hell is that?” I glared at him.

“You.” He swirled his finger at me. “You did something I’d do.”

“Oh, God. That could be a number of things, Nicholas. Be specific.” JJ snorted.

Nick gave him the finger without looking away from me. “You told her you’d convince us.”

“Why are you people like this?” Angel grunted. “You would absolutely do that, Noel.”

“Have you all forgotten Shep was with me?”

Everyone turned to him, and he was trying not to pay attention, but he was busted because it actually wasn’t me who’d made that promise.

“Fine. But it’s Lizzy, guys!” he argued.

“You!” Gabe admonished. “Of all the people.”

“Shut it,” Shep said.

“It’s not really Lizzy, though.” Angel moved deeper into the room. “It’s her friend. If it were for Lizzy, I’d say of course, but what you’re bringing here is a lot. Never mind the feds and cops—which is a clusterfuck if they don’t abide by our rules—but there’s a serial killer who got one of his toys taken and probably is going to want it back. Have you all seen what he does to his victims?”

“It’s been all over the news. Of course, we have.” JJ shrugged. “I like Marionette Maker better.”

“Wow.” Angel squeezed the bridge of his nose. “My point is, this is more than we like to take on.”

Four stood and walked closer to Angel. He was surprisingly imposing. He wasn’t a confrontational person, preferring to keep calm, and didn’t interject much in meetings. But it seemed he was about to.

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