Page 3 of Chill’s Chance

After taking my seat, I look at Puma and still can’t believe that I’m sitting across from the great Maklin Brooks. Albeit this Maklin Brooks is about twice the size he was when he played ball, which is saying something. He’s massive. A tux hides those muscles but he’s none the less intimidating. I have to stop myself from fidgeting under his intense glare. I feel like a fucking kid in the principal’s office. This makes me think of my son, so I straighten my shoulders and pull my worthless ass together.

“I need your help.” I start, but he raises his hand to stop me.

He looks at Chill. “We can hear him out, or I can call Detective Sterling to pick his ass up and deliver him to the MPs. Your call.”

She gives me one of her patented glares but nods at me. “Speak.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Puma smirk, but I focus on Chill. I know I need to convince her. Not only of needing her help, but of my regret in how we ended things.

“A few days ago, I learned of my ex-wife’s murder. When I asked about my son, Slade, they couldn’t tell me anything about him. Only that no one has seen him since before they found Nicole’s body.”

“Where did they find her?” Wildcard asks.

“In her apartment.” I tell him. “They didn’t give me too many details. They said someone strangled her and that a neighbor found her.”

“Any idea of when someone last saw her or Slade?” Puma asks.

I shake my head. “They are still investigating. They only gave me the cause of her death and the news that my son is missing.”

Chill glances at Puma and I watch them conduct a silent conversation. When they finish, Puma turns to me.

“We’ll help you find your son. But we do it our way and by ‘our way’, I mean my way. You do everything I tell you to do and if you defy me, even once, we’ll hogtie you and toss your ass over the barbed wire fence at Nellis. Got it?”

I nod, but that doesn’t seem to meet his needs. “Yes, sir.” I reply and he nods.

“Ok, first thing.” Puma says, reaching down to open one of his desk drawers. “This is a prospect kutte. You aren’t a prospect, but we’re going to fucking treat you like one because this here is your cover.”

He goes over the rules, which are pretty basic. Simply do whatever shit the patched members tell you to do it when they tell you to do it and without complaint.

“Keep your hair long and no shaving.” Chill chimes in. “You’ll look less like a Marine.”

“You’ll sleep with the other prospects.” Puma continues. “Chill will show you where that is. I suggest you get some sleep because you won’t be sleeping much these next few days.”

I open my mouth to protest, imagining my son trying to find a place to bed down.

“We can’t do anything tonight. If he’s out there, he’s been out there for six nights. Going off without a plan won’t help find him.” Puma says, anticipating my reaction. “I understand how you feel, believe me. But Vegas is a fucking big city and we won’t find him without more information and we can’t get that information until we talk to the cops tomorrow.”

“We’re going to the cops?” I ask, flabbergasted.

“No. We’re talking to the cops.” He says, pointing between Chill and himself. “Spark will dig for info tonight. We’ll get an early start.”

Puma and Chill stand up, but I stay in my seat. Chill glares at me before grabbing my arm and yanking me up.

She leads me back out to the common room and down a different hallway. I follow behind her and can’t do anything but stare at her. Regret weighs heavily on me. The first time I met her, I felt a connection like no other and knew the feeling was mutual. But I see now that while I still feel it, she no longer does.

She opens a door and gestures for me to enter first. Inside, I find four twin beds stuck into every corner of the room so the beds are up against the wall. Each bed has a nightstand next to it with a dresser at the end. It reminds me of a dorm room. Every corner, save one, appears lived in. Chill points me to that one.

“The others are working. Introduce yourself when you can and they’ll help you fit in.” Chill tells me.

“Do I tell them who I really am?” I ask, doubtful that this is a good plan. If you want to keep a secret, the fewer people who know, the better.

“That’s up to you.” She replies, turning to leave.

“Do you trust them?” I demand.

She glances back at me. “More than I trust you.” She replies, turning back and shutting the door with a hard click.

I nod. “Walked into that one.” I mumble to myself as I lay on the bed. I’m tense and thinking that seeking out Chill might have been a mistake. But I honestly don’t know who else to turn to for help. I don’t know Vegas, so my only option for help would be the police and they’d just arrest my ass and turn me over to the MPs. I can’t find Slade if I’m locked up. Chill and her club are my best hope for finding my son.

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