Page 94 of Mimic
“What do you mean?”
“She killed herself. I wonder if she remembered somehow. Then again, maybe remembering what they did when we were awake was too much.”
“So what do we do now?” Blade asked.
“We need to talk to Sypher. He was the one who gave Magyk the new names for the girls. We need those names,” Cash said.
“Magyk said they all ran. Like Alice and me. If they changed their names too...”
“Maybe, but it gives us a starting point. If we know where they were dropped off and what name they used last, it gives Nav something to look for.”
“I found Alice,” Nav said.
“What? Where is she?” I sat up straighter.
“Oklahoma. She’s a club girl for the Diamondback MC.”
“That’s Kansas Stone’s MC,” Cash said.
I felt Mimic stiffen beside me. Kansas was Dakota’s brother. The youngest of the four boys. I held Mimic’s hand tightly in mine.
“Would you like to see Alice, Indie? There is some shit going on down there, but the Diamondbacks are allies. We can make it happen.”
I looked at Mimic. He’d never let me go alone, and I wasn’t sure he could be around a Stone. Not after what he told me. Sure, Kansas wasn’t the one who had hurt him and held him captive for years. But he was still a Stone. In Mimic’s eyes, he was guilty by association, and I couldn’t risk him causing a war between allies, not when there was already a war we might need their help with.
“No.”
Mimic snapped his eyes to mine. I shook my head. “No. Maybe someday. But not right now.” I looked at Nav. “Is she safe?”
“Safe is subjective. She’s gotten herself into some trouble, but I don’t think she’s in any danger.”
“But if someone from the Trick Pony finds her... if they know what she is, she won’t be safe.” Someone had to protect her. Alice was different from the rest of us; she would embrace this role, not shy away from it.
“Devlin Scott and his son are both dead, Indie. They can’t hurt any of you anymore,” Colt said.
“There were others. George Stone...”
Mimic squeezed my hand.
“George Stone is also dead. We have the files, Indie. We know everyone we need to look out for.”
“You don’t, King. You can’t possibly know them all. Devlin may have kept records, but was George Stone’s name in those records? Was Dakota’s?”
Mimic squeezed my hand again. I didn’t turn my head. I wouldn’t look at him and give away his secret; he had to know he could trust me.
“What about Tyran Fitzpatrick? Is his name in there? Sylvia St. James? Jane Craven? Gary Hughes? There are countless people that Devlin was close to, people who were never recorded.”
“You know Tyran Fitzpatrick?” King growled, slamming his fist on the table.
I sank back into my chair. “N-no.”
“King, it’s not her fault.”
“I know.” He ran his hands over his face. “Indie, I’m sorry. I’m not angry at you. You are fucking innocent.”
King stood up and paced the front of the room. No one spoke; no one looked at him except me and Haizley. Her browsfurrowed as she watched him. Not with confusion, but with concern.
“This is a goddamn clusterfuck, and if I ever get my hands on that son of a bitch.”
