Page 38 of Cold Hard Truth

But even in the open fields at the Twisted Kings compound, there was never a strong enough storm to chase my demons away—especially after what happened to me and Ellie.

So I ran as far as I could. As long as I could.

I chased the rain.

Until the tornado of inevitability led me back here.

Looking up at the Twisted Roses sign, I realize it’s no longer blinking like it used to. The windows to the shop are decorated with skeleton art and roses. I came hereso many times when I was a teenager, but now it looks entirely different.

If I was smart, I’d turn around now.

I’ve managed to hide from the Twisted Kings for the past eight years, knowing my father’s club brings nothing but death and pain. But even if the security cameras do catch me or give me away, I have no choice.

If I want revenge on the man who was responsible for Ellie’s death, this is where I need to be. Nick might have died that night in the basement, but he wasn’t working alone. And he wasn’t in charge. Someone else pulled the strings for which she suffered and after years of searching for clues, I’m finally getting closer.

The rain is heavy, and I’m soaked. So I step under the overhang to pull out my phone and check my messages. There’s been nothing new from the unknown number for the past twelve hours.

Not since they sent the cryptic message that led me here.

Unknown Number

Twisted Roses, tomorrow at 10 p.m. I have something of your sister’s.

They could be lying but I don’t care anymore. Being on the run isn’t nearly as interesting as it was in the beginning. Always looking over my shoulder—wondering when the past was going to catch up. It’s been years since I’ve slept well and even longer since I’ve felt safe.

Glancing up through the glass, I follow the path of the man sweeping the lobby. He’s obnoxiously tall and makes the broom seem miniature in comparison. His dark blondhair is brushed back off his forehead, and even if he looks to be in his mid-twenties, his tattoos give him a hard edge that sends a shiver up my spine.

Although, I doubt my nerves are caused by him.

It’s this place and how it’s so different while still being exactly how I remember it. The once bare windows are decorated now, but I remember when they were sterile. I’m not sure what to make of the fact that the shop has the Twisted Roses name, but there’s no hint to the club here like there used to be.

The Twisted Kings iron brand used to be the only decoration. It hung on the wall by the front door so anyone who walked in knew who owned it. The club must have moved on to other businesses, giving this one up, and I can’t help wondering what happened to the guys who worked here.

Or at least one in particular.

Watching the guy sweep, I’m relieved I don’t recognize him. If I’m wrong about the shop and the Twisted Kings do still own it, at least he isn’t going to recognize me. And as long as I can slip in and out of the city quietly, Kane doesn’t need to know.

Sage doesn’t need to know.

If he’s still here at all.

Did he find someone willing to give him all the things I couldn’t? Did he move up the ranks in the club? Did he move on to another girl the second I left?

The moment he crosses my mind, I’m falling down the rabbit hole again.

Rolling my shoulders back, I push through the front door and the bell jingles.

Just like the outside, the lobby is nothing like I remember. While Twisted Roses has always been a tattoo parlor, the Twisted Kings only cared about it because they used it to launder money. They didn’t take care of the building or do anything to draw too much attention to it.

But now, it’s bursting with color and decorations.

Art and framed images of tattoos decorate one wall, and opposite that one, is a wall covered in cutouts of eyes. Its an equal measure of creepy and fascinating, giving the space some life.

Fake flowers and rib bones hang above an oversized couch, and it’s almost comforting how decorated it is. I take in every new detail, stopping when something familiar freezes me in place.

My shadowbox of butterflies hangs on the inside of the door, and there’s not a speck of dust on the frame. My stomach knots remembering how Ellie glowed when she gave that gift to me. When I think about hanging it in the clubhouse, and what happened with Sage almost immediately after.

Someone must have brought it here after I left, which means the Twisted Kings aren’t as long gone as I hoped.

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