“That was a lucky fucking shot,” Romeo grumbled as I sunk ball number four while he continued to miss every single fucking shot.

I laughed, moving around the table, my eyes scanning for another winning play. “You suck so hard at this.”

“Fuck you.”

“Good comeback, little brother.”

“Hey, Romeo,” Wrench called as he reached the bottom of the staircase, holding a single paper in his hand. Romeo stood up straight like a metal pole had been shoved right up his ass.

Optimus got off his barstool and joined Wrench as he walked over to us, curiosity on his face. The closer Wrench got, the easier it was for me to tell that the info he’d found wasn’t useful. I looked over to see my little brother's jaw clenched, the muscles twitching in agitation telling me that he knew too.

“What you got?” I asked when I realized Romeo wasn’t going to make an attempt to ask. He probably didn’t want to know, he was probably regretting even asking the club to help him.

Wrench took a deep breath. “Not a lot, to be completely honest, but I do have something I’m looking into.” He lifted up the piece of paper in his hand, and at the same time, took a deep breath. That alone told me everything I needed to know. We weren’t going to like the answer. He held it out, and Romeo slowly reached out to take it from his hand.

I moved closer to my brother, narrowing my eyes on what appeared to be a screenshot of a website. There were only a few words—details I think, describing something.

Then I realized, it wasn’t describing something.

It was describing someone.

And the small picture in the left-hand corner was of a young girl. She had red hair, freckles across her nose and cheeks making her look really young, and she appeared like she was scared to death.

“How old is this?” Romeo asked through gritted teeth. His hand was shaking, the sheet of paper rustling.

“I ain’t gonna lie. We’re talking old. I pulled it from an FBI database. After you said the sheriff had dabbled in selling young girls, I took a chance and wondered what he would do if he were desperate to hide someone,” Wrench explained before reaching over and pointing to a date that was stamped across the bottom of the page. “The FBI is constantly taking down these pages. A lot of them are established quickly. A time and date are usually set up for it to go live, and it’s only up for an hour before it’s taken down and a new one’s created the next day. They do what they can, which usually means just taking screen snaps of each of the girls and filing them away to match with missing persons that flood in.”

Romeo started to scrunch the paper in his hand so I grabbed it, pulling it away before he could ruin it. He didn’t fight me or argue. Just let me have it.

“That date was only a couple days after I put her on a bus to Seattle,” Romeo mentioned, slamming his pool cue down on the pool table and shaking his head. “He fucking sold her. His own flesh and blood. His own child.”

“Where’s her mom?” Op asked, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms. “She didn’t have a say in any of this?”

Romeo grunted. “She died when Liza was around thirteen or fourteen. A year or two before I showed up.”

“Died of what?” I enquired with a raised brow, something about it not feeling right.

Romeo looked up and met my eyes. “I was told natural causes, but I know what you’re thinking and trust me I wondered the same thing.”

“He offed her,” Wrench interrupted, saying what we all were thinking. Nobody said anything. No arguments, no protests or questions. We all knew it was true. “Okay, so here’s the thing. I don’t think you’re considering how many contacts you have.”

Romeo turned and raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“What he means is,” Optimus cut in, pushing off the wall and inserting himself into the conversation. “We have Wrench, and he’s fucking good at what he does. But this is where the trail ends. Nothing on here will tell us who bought her. But you… you know people. A lot of fucking people. People who would spend money on a girl like this. People who would know people who’d spend money on a girl like this.”

I saw what Optimus was getting at.

“Assholes like John Visser… they like being reminded of their own strokes of brilliance. In some strange fucking way, a part of them wants to get caught so they can explain how they got away with things and laugh like a fucking evil villain off some bad Disney movie because they think they’re smart.” Wrench’s explanation was confusing, but also made a lot of sense.

“What are you getting at?” Romeo demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

Wrench rolled his eyes and sighed. “You know every criminal in Las Vegas fucking personally. He’s gonna use the most obvious, so when you figure it out, it’s like it’s been under your nose the entire time.”

“He’s right, you know. You’re the one with the contacts. You’re the one who knows Visser better than anyone. You just need to think harder,” Optimus insisted.

“Who’s the first person he’d go to if he wanted to hide someone?” I asked, trying to prompt my brother to use that fucking brain of his.

“Better yet, who’s the first person you would go to if you wanted to find someone?” Optimus added, looking at Romeo who was gripping another chair in his hands, looking like he was going to lose his shit.

This could be how we find her, but he needed to dive back into that world, and he needed to remember that John Visser wasn’t around anymore. Romeo didn’t have to be scared of people discovering their connection, or John going after the people he cared about when Romeo got too close to the truth. He was still in that captive mindset which had everything he touched turned to death.

“Visser isn’t around anymore. He’s not gonna hurt you for looking for her, or better yet, he’s not going to use her to hurt you if you start asking questions.”

I could see the moment it clicked in his head. He didn’t have to sneak around or get the club to find the information for him. It was at his fingertips, and there wasn’t someone staring over his shoulder making threats now. He had the contacts. He was in control.

“Unfortunately, I know exactly the asshole I need to see.” There were plenty of high profile players out there who bought girls to have at their home. It was fucking disgusting, but unfortunately, it wasn’t uncommon. “Guess it’s time for me to head back to Las Vegas.”

“Well, that’s convenient.” We all turned to see Matt, the club lawyer, walk through the front door with Blizzard. He held up an envelope in his hand.

Romeo groaned. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? What now?”

“Guess who was named the beneficiary of John Visser’s will?” Matt announced like we were on some stupid ass fucking game show. “Come on down, Romeo Matherson.”

“No fucking way in hell,” Romeo roared, picking up a chair from the nearest table and tossing it across the room. A couple of the women over by the bar screamed, but we all just stood there and watched as it splintered against the far wall. “You can keep that fucking shit the hell away from me. I don’t want it. Don’t fucking need it. No.”

Matt rolled his eyes like he was undeterred by Romeo’s dramatics and continued forward, dropping the envelope onto the table beside us. I waited for Romeo to pick it up, but the stubborn-ass shithead wouldn’t even look at it. He continued to stare Matt down like he was the enemy.

“I’m going back to make a name for myself.” Romeo cracked his neck and then started on his fingers. “I ain’t going to let his name tarnish my fucking shit. If people find out I was working with that asshole this whole time, there’s going to be hell.”

“Well, good on fucking you. But what I need… is for you to get this shit sorted and tell me what you want me to tell Visser’s slimy, sleazeball fucking lawyer, so I don’t have to speak to his dumb ass again,” Matt continued, not for one second letting Romeo cut him down.

Matt was a strong, take no shit, don’t fuck with me because I’ll shove my cock up your ass ten times harder, kind of guy. I had wondered several times why he wasn’t a member of the club. He’d fit in fucking perfectly here. But then who would take a lawyer seriously if they were affiliated with criminals.

“I don’t want anything from him. I don’t want anything to do with him,” he murmured through gritted teeth.

“You don’t have to take anything from him, but I noticed they’re offering you the opportunity to get anything you want out of the house before the bank forecloses on it and everything inside is sold,” Matt explained, walking over and picking up the letter off the table and holding it out again. “Everything else, I’ll write up to be given to charity if you don’t want the money…”

I knew as much as we knew someone like Phee could use it, or even the company that owns the home she lives in could use it, that it would most likely be dirty. Real blood money. And there was no guarantee someone wouldn’t come looking for it later.

Romeo nodded.

“Give it to a charity. Try to fucking hide it as best as possible,” Romeo agreed. “Something to do with animals where no people are gonna get hurt.”

Matt nodded, spilling a pen and a small pad from his pocket. “You’ve got two weeks to go down and take any belongings out of the house. Or whatever you choose to do. Let me know. I’ll get you to sign the papers waving your acceptance of anything and let them know you’ll be down to see the house.”

Romeo nodded sharply and turned back to the pool table.

“Thanks, Matt.”

“No problem.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Optimus offered.

Optimus and Wrench headed for the door with Matt and left us alone in the room. Tension was thick, and Romeo was angry. It didn’t take him long, though. Now we were alone to admit what was bothering him.

“Convinced myself I’d never have to go back to that place again,” he mumbled, lowering himself into a chair. “After I went to jail, courtesy of his dumb ass, then you showed up…” he paused and continued, “… I convinced myself I wouldn’t have to see that fucking place ever again. Wouldn’t have to relive the memories that haunted me from there.”

“I hear you,” I told him, sitting myself on the edge of the pool table with a bright idea striking me. “I vote we do it. We go back, and we’ll make new fucking memories.”

He looked at me with narrowed eyes. “We gonna sit around and namaste some shit?”

I smirked and shook my head. “Nope. We’re gonna burn that place to the fucking ground.”

It took a couple moments, but I saw the way that processed in his head, and how he started to smile when he realized he could get rid of that hellhole and take back control again. He was going back to Vegas, and he would always know it was there. And I knew Romeo, I knew part of him would wonder whether there were secrets in there, and whether someone would find them, and whether they would use them against him.

He stood, placing his pool stick to the side. “Best we get some flights to Las Vegas then.”