Dean

 

His heart thrummed in his chest like a strummed guitar string as Dean stepped out of the townhouse. Across the street, two of the Titans members sat in an older pickup truck, keeping an eye on the safe house. It wasn’t the subtlest solution in the world, but they also weren’t a secret goddamn organization. The whole situation was pretty far out of their arena at this point.

 

He needed to get a message to Connell, but the person on the phone had been painfully clear that if he reached out to anyone, he’d be hurting Abbey. He wouldn’t take that risk… at least not in any way that was likely to be seen. Yes, there was a chance that the safe house was being watched, but if that were the case, it was game over in so many ways. He needed to trust someone over something, or he might as well give up.

 

He tapped on the window and waited while it rolled down. Ryan, a young white man who kept his hair buzzed Marine short, gave him a curious look.

 

“Just stepping out for some groceries,” he said. And held his breath, hoping that Ryan would remember the passphrase Connell had set. It had nothing to do with groceries. The safe house was well stocked with non-perishables. Someone was always here, bringing a fling for a night or spending a few days in a business suit, making the house look like it was a basic short-term rental situation, not affiliated at all with the Titans.

 

It took a second, and then Ryan nodded. “Understood,” he said.

 

It was the best Dean could hope for. He stepped away as Ryan rolled up the window. His heart was still thrumming as he walked to his bike and straddled the seat. He looked back at the safe house one more time, trying to convince himself he was doing the right thing. He wasn’t sure at all. Shouldn’t the right thing feel better than this?

 

He twisted the ignition, put the bike into gear, and pulled out.

 

###

 

Dean had known where the Scorpions’ clubhouse was his entire life. It had always been a place of which he was aware. As a kid, it had been a place to avoid unless he wanted to head farther down the dark road he was already on. As an adult, it had been the symbol of what he and the Titans were trying to build — and what they had to avoid in order to make it happen. He had spent a substantial portion of his life defining himself in opposition to the Scorpions.

 

Seeing the burnt out husk of the clubhouse as he drove up to it was an odd experience. He was twisted between surprise, gratitude, and horror. What in the world had happened? The Scorpions and the Titans had existed in quiet tension since the end of World War II. Those vets had come home and founded two clubs for the men who couldn’t seem to find their way back into the rows of pretty houses with picket fences and jobs that needed ties. Who didn’t feel like themselves unless the wind was in their faces and they knew they could pick up stakes and move whenever they needed to.

 

Whatever flames had taken the building under had been put out, and there wasn’t much left but rubble and the bare bones of the old warehouse. There wasn’t much heat coming from the building anymore. The fire department had come and gone, leaving the area taped off and barricaded. The street lights gave him some visibility, but not a lot. He parked his bike and dismounted, then just stood, staring at the wreckage of the old clubhouse.

 

He wanted to pull out his phone and try to find some news coverage, see if anyone had any idea what had happened. If they were thinking arson, it seemed unlikely the building would be unguarded, but how much effort would the cops put into figuring out what had happened to a bunch of thugs? He knew how he and his kind were thought of in the civilized world. It was part of why he’d become so reluctant to bring Emma any further into this than she already was.

 

He stared at the building and thought about how he could disentangle her from this web. Was there any way? Or was the game already over? Was she already a target?

 

“Is that you?”

 

The quiet, feminine voice behind him made him spin on his heel. A small woman was standing under the streetlight, her arms wrapped tightly around her narrow frame. It took him a moment to remember her name — Naveena Sen. She’d been a year behind him in high school, and while they had never been friendly, they’d nodded at each other across many different classrooms. Her parents had immigrated from India by way of England, but she’d been born here.

 

“Naveena,” he said.

 

“Dean Patterson,” she said. He could hear a waver in her voice, a kind of ragged edge that made him think she’d been awake for hours longer than she should have been. She took a few steps toward him, and he could see that the makeup under her eyes had run. She had probably been crying. Her long, curly brown hair was tangled. That was all he’d noticed before she flew at him.

 

He braced himself for a slap, but he didn’t expect a solid punch to the stomach. She knocked the wind out of him, and he folded over in a gasp, his stomach aching and his diaphragm paralyzed for a moment.

 

“What the hell,” he managed to wheeze out as he put down one hand to keep himself from falling to the ground. Naveena was standing over him, her hands in tight, white-knuckled fists, but she didn’t look like she was about to hit him again. Yet.

 

“This is your fault,” she said, and he could hear the tears crackling in her voice now. “This is all your goddamned fault. You and your stupid Titans.”

 

There was a weird moment in his head where he wasn’t entirely sure if she was insulting the club or him personally, and then the air made a more coherent path back to his brain, and he managed to wake up a little more. “I don’t know what happened here, but the Titans had nothing to do with it.”

 

She put a hand on his shoulder and pushed. It took nothing to push him over, and Naveena had a lot more than nothing backing her up. He landed on his ass, and as much as he hated to admit it, it was a little easier to breathe down there.

 

“Who the fuck else would be messing with the Scorpions? I stayed here because it was safe, you piece of shit. The Scorpions are too strong to have enemies so the only ones fucking with them would be you. You and your stupid club.”

 

Her words were not making any sense to him. He tried to pull himself back together. “Naveena, I’m sorry, it’s been a really shitty couple of days. I don’t know who burned you guys out, but it wasn’t us. Or if it was, I didn’t sign off on it, and I’ll do my damnedest to hang up whoever did. What happened? Can you tell me?”

 

She was quiet for a long moment, and he wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. He wouldn’t put it past her to hit him again or drag him up to his feet. She sat down, across from him, her head sinking down into her shaking hands. He worked on getting his breath back, and then reaching out carefully, touching her shoulder. She shook off his touch, but she looked up at him.

 

“I wasn’t here,” she said. She didn’t look at him, directing her gaze over his shoulder. “I was at work. Someone threw a bottle through the window, straight into the — Well, it doesn’t matter now. But there was an explosion. A few people got out. Some didn’t. The cops — the cops don’t believe that it was an attack. They say that we must have done it ourselves.”

 

A chill that had nothing to do with the night air ran through him. There was something going on, something much deeper than he’d realized. When Mia and Abbey were taken, he’d thought it might have to do with him, or perhaps someone looking for leverage on the Night Titans. When Fred was killed, he’d thought perhaps Fred had been trying to relay information about the club, or something else that was happening. That there was some other story he hadn’t heard about yet. But now, this attack on the clubhouse as well?

 

Someone was trying to start a war. It could be someone on either side or someone outside of the group. But it wasn’t going to be pretty, whatever it was. Because someone was trying to start a war, and someone else would have to stop it.

 

“Naveena,” he said, quietly. “I need a meeting with Marv.”

 

She shook her head. “Even if I gave a shit about you, Dean, I couldn’t do that. Who am I? None of the guys here give a shit about me.”

 

“Can you tell me where to find him?”

 

“Can’t and won’t. You get a twofer.”

 

He clenched his jaw and fought back the urge to scream. She had probably lost people she cared deeply about today. Shouting or hitting her wouldn’t help her — or him. “I didn’t have anything to do with this, Naveena, but I’m going to find out who did, and I’m going to make them pay. Okay?”

 

She glared off into the distance, but she didn’t argue with him.

 

“Do you have somewhere safe to go?”

 

She pointed into the wreckage, without saying a word. What was there to say really? He wanted to see this girl safe, but he was also itching to get on the move again. This puzzle was a hell of a lot bigger than he’d thought, and he needed to bring it to a close as soon as possible. Before more innocent people were hurt.

 

“Give me your phone,” he said. She handed it to him without any real contact, and he opened up the notes app, tapped in an address and a passphrase. “Go there,” he said. “It’s a motel. You can stay the night, sleep safe, and then get in touch with me in a few days, at that number. I’ll make sure you’re okay.”

 

He thought about trying to make her promise that she’d do as he said, but what was the point? She didn’t owe him anything. He didn’t owe her anything either, but she truly believed that he was putting her in danger. This was the least he could do.

 

She took the phone back out of his hand with a little bit of a yank, but she didn’t immediately delete the note. She stayed on the ground, her gaze focused on the squatting black horror of a building as he stood. He didn’t quite run back to his bike, but the heels of his boots made a double time clack as he rushed back. As quickly as he could, without giving in to the rising panic, he mounted the bike, kicked it into gear, and sped back towards the safe house. Where he hoped Emma would still be, peacefully asleep.

 

If he’d put her in even more danger, he wasn’t at all sure he’d manage to forgive himself.