I march into the clubhouse, past the decommissioned motorbike, and into the bar. The Irish man sits in the corner, and Markus leans against the wall near him. Apart from that, the bar is empty. It’s four o’clock, so I guess there must be a job on. My shoes click on the hardwood floor as I pace toward them. They talk quietly, hushed, but look up as I approach. Markus’ face drops. So he’s warned them not to give me anything, I think, anger replacing anxiety.
But then Markus grunts, “Ah, damn. Knew we’d forgotten something.”
“Forgotten something?” I ask uncertainly. I take a chair from a nearby table, drag it across the floor, and sit beside them. “What did you forget? That Maddox told you to lock the door?”
Markus rubs his head. Irish cracks his knuckles.
“No,” Markus sighs. “It’s been crazy around here, Eden. Really crazy. A lot of stuff has happened, and me and Irish have been really busy.”
“So?” I ask. What the hell are they talking about? “So what? What does that mean?”
“Maddox is in a holding cell, the jail just outside town,” Irish says, when Markus goes quiet. “He’s been in there since Saturday night. Not long after you left.”
“What—” I grab the edge of the table, feeling as though I’ll lose my balance if I let go. So he wasn’t ignoring you. That’s something, at least. “What did they get him for? Did he have a gun on him? Not drugs? I’ve never seen him with drugs.”
“He doesn’t take drugs,” Markus whispers. “It was—her.”
“Her?”
“That crazy bitch,” Irish hisses fiercely. “Cassandra. After you left, the lights went out and…”
He tells me what happened, how Maddox forced them to comply, and how the police took Maddox away.
“The rich bastard greased some palms, I reckon,” Irish says. “They have no grounds to hold him. None at all. But still, he’s in there, and it looks like they’re trying to take it to trial.”
“But it was makeup,” I mutter. “It was makeup. I got it wrong. The police can’t be that stupid—”
“It might’ve been makeup when she talked to you,” Irish says. “But it was the bona fide thing when she pulled her lights stunt. Don’t know how she did it, but she did.”
“Punched her eyes out herself.” Markus shivers. “Don’t know many of our men that’d do that, let alone...” He shivers again.
“I fell for it,” I sigh. “I fell for it. All of it. She had me, hook, line, and sinker. And then I thought that Maddox was just ignoring me.”
“He wouldn’t ignore you,” Markus says. “I think he loves you.”
I jump to my feet. “Take me to him!” I exclaim. “I want to see him.”
Markus pushes away from the wall and heads for the door. “Let’s go, then,” he says.
***
We drive to the jail just outside of town, a small building which looks more like a drive-by takeout than a police station. The sun is setting, and the place looks depressing to me, the gutter brown with congealed waste, the paint on the doors chipped away, the windows murky. I think about how Maddox has been in there for the past four days, and I feel guilty. I should have checked sooner. Goddamn it, Cassandra!
Markus pulls into the car park. “Go to the main desk,” Markus says. “Say these words exactly, ‘Markus Green knows about the green rabbit.’”
“What?” I laugh. “Is this some kind of spy movie?”
Markus shrugs his massive shoulders. “The green rabbit is the name of an ecstasy pill one of the sergeants was caught taking a while back. It’s not enough to get Boss off, but it’s enough to get a meeting whenever we like.”
“Okay.” I push open the door and climb from the car. “And you’ll wait here?” I ask.
“Yeah.” I make to walk away, but Markus says, “Uh.”
I lean into the car. “Something wrong?”
“Sorry,” he mutters. “For not telling you sooner, I mean.”
“No harm done, big guy,” I say, and shut the car door.
When I get to the front desk, a gruff-looking man with a short army-style haircut squints at me. “Can I help?” he says. His police uniform is ironed and pleated, his badge polished to a fine glisten.
“Markus Green knows about the green rabbit,” I say, feeling like a fool.
I expect him to burst out laughing, or tilt his head at me, or ask me if I’ve been taking drugs. But instead, he takes a step back, shaking his head. “You’re here to see Maddox Owens, I take it?”
I nod, and he leads me through the station to a small waiting area: a small room with couches lining the walls. The cushions are thin, hospital-bed material, and on the walls, pictures of meadows and valleys hang, as if to calm down the prisoners. “Your friend hasn’t been charged yet,” the officer says. “But he’s still under custody. That means no touching. No kissing. No—anything. Now, please, wait here.”
I take a seat and the police officer leaves. About five minutes later, he returns with Maddox, whose hands are cuffed behind his back. “Thank you, Officer Grayson,” he grunts, as he drops onto the couch next to me. The officer goes and stands at the door, facing us, hands clasped before him.
Maddox turns to me and smirks, like nothing has happened, like he isn’t sitting in a police station waiting room, arms cuffed behind his back. He wears a white jumpsuit open at the collar, with his muscles and tattoos on display. My body reacts as soon as I see him. Tingles attack me. I want to jump on him, kiss him, sit on his lap and grind.
“So, are we friends again?” he asks with an easy smile.
“Of course we are, you silly man,” I say. I reach for his face, but Officer Grayson goes tut, so I take my hand away. “I got it all wrong. It was makeup. I remembered. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? Why are you here, Maddox? Surely the police know what that woman is saying is a lie.”
“Hmm, you’d think so,” Maddox mutters. “But the police are taking their sweet time processing the interviews, the tests, everything.” He lowers his voice. “Somebody has paid them off. Mason, probably. He can’t send me to trial because Cassandra won’t let him. But he can make this take a long, long time.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know, but I think it has something to do with…” He shakes his head and glances at Officer Grayson. “Not yet. It’ll put you in danger. The walls in here are full of ears. It’s a goddamn joke.”
I want to kiss him so badly. It aches. But somehow I manage to restrain myself. I love this man, I think, matter-of-fact. It’s true. I can’t deny it.
“What shall we do then?”
“You need to lie low for a week. By then, my friends… Everything will be in place. I wish this had happened a week later. Dammit.”
“Lie low? Where?”
“With one of my guys. I can’t say which, but you know who.”
Markus.
I swallow and look deep into Maddox’s eyes. “Am I in danger?” I ask. “Is that why I have to hide?”
His Adam’s apple shifts, his jaw clenches. “I don’t know,” he says. “That’s the truth.”
I bite down, a shard of fear moving through me. “Can you tell me what’s happening?”
“Yes, but not yet.” He smiles at me. Not his arrogant smile, but a real, genuine smile. “I missed you so much, Eden. You have no idea. Hell, I never thought I’d miss a woman as badly as I missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” I say. “I was scared—”
“Don’t be scared. Don’t worry. Just be safe.”
“I will.”
We lock eyes for a long moment, and then Maddox stands up and walks to Officer Grayson. “Alright, then,” he says. “Take me back to my room.”
He winks at me as the officer takes him by the arm.
I leave the station and go back to the car. Markus reaches across and pushes the door open for me, and I climb in. “He wants me to stay with you,” I say. “He wants me to lie low for a week. He said everything needs to be ready. Do you have any idea what he’s talking about?”
Markus shakes his head. “The thing with Boss is, he’s got a whole other world in his head. He sees more than the rest of us, way more.”
“Hmm,” I say.
I place my hand on the window and peer back at the station. See you in a week.