Page 3 of Beautiful Scars: Unshakeable

Levi

Theblooddripsfrommy knuckles, each crimson drop hitting the floor and marking time like some fucked up metronome. The man strapped to the chair is sobbing. He's pathetic and his weak mewling noises grate on my last nerve.

"I swear, I don't know anything else." He slurs the words through a mouthful of jagged broken teeth.

My fist connects with his jaw again. The crack echoes through the warehouse.

"Wrong answer." The voice coming from my mouth doesn't sound like mine. It's hollow, dead. "You work his territory. You move his product. You know something."

Seven years ago, I ran. Seven years ago, I left her broken and bleeding on that floor. I quietly accepted that she was gone. Not this time.

My phone buzzes—Colt again. Fourth call in an hour. I silence it.

"Please..." Blood bubbles from the dealer's mouth as he breathes. "That's not how it works. We never see him directly."

The rage builds, familiar and welcome. I grab his throat, squeezing until his eyes bulge. "Then who handles the deliveries? Who collects the money?"

Behind me, the warehouse door creaks. Footsteps approach—the measured tread I recognize as Wolf's.

"Jesus Christ, Levi." His voice carries equal parts horror and resignation. "This isn't helping."

I release the dealer's throat, watching him gasp. "Get out."

"No." Wolf moves closer. "You need to stop this. You're destroying every lead we might have. We need information, not bodies."

The memory returns, front and center—Sunny disappearing into a cloud of smoke, so still I thought for a moment it was already too late. My hand clenches into a fist.

"He's had her for two days." I choke on each word. "While we stand here talking, he's..."

I can't finish. Can't give voice to the images playing over and over in my mind.

"I know." Wolf's hand lands on my shoulder. I shrug it off. "But we're working as fast as we can. Colt has programs running facial recognition on every accessible camera within three states. Zane's working his contacts. This?" He gestures at the bloody mess in the chair. "This isn't helping anyone. Including you."

The truth in his words burns. I turn back to the dealer who flinches away from me.

"Please," he whispers. "I don’t know anything.”

I grab his chair, tilting it back until he's staring straight up at me. "If you're lying..."

"I'm not! I swear on my kids' lives!" The panic in his eyes tells me he's telling the truth.

The memory shifts—Sunny at seventeen, crying in her backyard. The bruises on her arms. The way she backed away when I reached for her.

I let the chair go and it crashes backwards onto the floor. The piece of shit screams as his fingers are crushed underneath him.

"Get him out of here."

Wolf moves to untie him, but I'm already walking away. My phone shows eight missed calls—six from Colt now, two from Zane.

The warehouse door slams behind me. The night air hits my face, but it doesn't clear my head. Nothing does right now. It took me seven years to build everything I have, and right now I'd give every last bit of it away for one piece of usable information that would lead me to her.

I climb in my truck, knuckles white on the steering wheel. Nothing. One more dead end.

She's been gone two days now, but it feels like forever.

I drive too fast back to the house, my hands sticky with dried blood. The speedometer climbs up past ninety, but I barely notice. All I can see is Sunny's face telling me things are going to be okay. I can still feel her lips pressed into my cheek.

The tires crunch on the gravel and kick up rocks as I pull up to the house. Zane's waiting on the porch, arms crossed. His jaw tightens when he sees me.

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