Page 23 of Morgue
“Wylde, just give it to him. Don’t go pissing off the man in the club with the most confirmed kills. M’k?” Sting sounded amused but resigned. I knew the feeling. Most days, I wanted to pinch off Wylde’s head. The man was a pain in the ass. He was also brilliant with a computer.
Wylde sighed, like Sting had just taken his favorite toy. “Fine. But if you ask me, Morgue needs to lighten up a bit. All that aggression will give you gas.”
“Do you have something or not? I left Dorothy to be here.”
“Pussy whipped already, are you?”
I glared at the other man. “Don’t make me go to Danica. If anyone’s pussy whipped, it’s you.”
“Right. But Dani and me have been an item for a couple years now. I have a right to be pussy whipped. You’ve only been with your woman a couple of weeks. That’s way too soon to be pussy whipped.”
“Christ,” I bit out. “Imma kill the sumbitch.”
“Wylde, now really ain’t the time. Do you have something or not?” Stitches gave me a worried look. Yeah, he knew I was only mostly kidding. Sort of.
“Bottom line, your girl’s roommates sold her out. It was a carefully planned and premeditated event intending to sell her into sexual slavery.” He shook his head slightly and frowned. “OK, so they didn’t really know what would happen to her, just that she had admitted to being a virgin and they were selling her to someone who would pay top dollar for virgin women.”
There was silence in the room before I turned and punched a hole in the wall with a war bellow. Someone was going to die. And I absolutely would not feel the least bit of remorse, no matter who I had to kill.
“Yo, man! Calm ya tits!” Wylde stood, moving to stand between me and the wall. “Got wires running through there, and I don’t want to have to fix shit you broke.”
“Wylde, what do you have linking Dorothy’s roommates to her disappearance?” Sting was trying to bring the focus back to the business at hand to redirect me, but it was damned hard. All I could think about was getting vengeance when I needed to be cold and calculating. It was a position I hadn’t found myself in for a very long time.
Wylde snorted. “I got all the things. Texts and phone calls from the burner phones they used, emails from dummy accounts, I even managed to find some footage of them at the rave they took her to. That wasn’t easy, by the way. I had to piece together video footage from cell phones of people who were there in the same time frame. It’s the main reason it took me this long to have anything.” He shrugged. “Might have broken a few international treaties or some shit, but I got it. I also happened to find some really good blackmail footage on four or five prominent people in the US and abroad. You know. If you’re interested. Might come in useful.” Then he continued. “Here’s the really diabolical part. No one knows Dorothy’s missing. Well. Except her roommates.”
Sting cocked his head. “Come again?”
“Yeah. They got Dorothy set up with online classes the rest of the year and through the summer. Been loggin’ into her account regularly to make them think she’s still present and accounted for. Doin’ a couple things in her classes so no one gets suspicious. Spoiler alert -- she’s now failing everything now when she was an honor student before.”
“So, you’re telling me, there is no one looking for this girl?” Stitches traded a look with Sting. “No one. No family. No friends.”
Wylde shook his head. “Nope. Kid’s mother died from an apparent accidental overdose when Dorothy was sixteen. There’s no biological father listed on her birth certificate. No other living family that I could find. Any friends she had were at school, and they all think she’s taking a mental health break from in-person classes. Text came from her phone and every Goddamned thing.”
“So, by the time anyone realizes she’s missing, her roommates can swear they saw her last week,” Stitches commented dryly. “No one will be able to say for sure she disappeared during Spring Break and those bitches will be in the clear.”
“Uh, correction,” Wylde said with a raised finger in the air and a cocky grin on his face. “Those bitches think they’ll be in the clear.” He plopped back down in his chair and pointed to the bank of computer monitors on his desk. And the wall. And the couple on the ceiling. For when he leaned back in his chair? Crazy fucker. “I got videographic evidence as well as all the supporting shit to back it up. If you choose to take them to court, once I set up a realistic chain of discovery, they’ll be goin’ away for a long fuckin’ time.”
“Ain’t goin’ to fuckin’ court,” I growled. “You point me in the right direction and I’m going to disappear them.”
“Agreed,” Sting said without hesitation. “But we’re takin’ it a step further. I want the people she was sold to and everyone in between.”
“I’ll bring her roommates to the barn,” I said. “I’ll get everything out of ’em they know.”
“Not sure you’re the right one for the job this time, Morgue,” Roman said as he entered the office, phone in hand. I glanced at Sting who shook his phone at me with a raised eyebrow. Wasn’t long until every officer in the club was crowding in Wylde’s office.
“Right one or not, it’s a job I’m takin’. She’s my woman. It’s my right to do what I do best.”
“You sure about that?” Brick asked calmly. “What if she never sees you the same way again? You willin’ to risk that when there are men here perfectly capable of takin’ this on?”
“I am.” I didn’t hesitate with my answer.
“Morgue.” Stitches put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re her safe place right now. Are you sure, really sure about this?”
Damned bastard knew exactly what to say to make me hesitate. “I’ll talk to her.”
“She know she’s your woman?” Brick exchanged a look with Sting. I knew what they were thinking.
“She does. But she doesn’t know all the details yet. I’ll discuss this with her, but I will be going after the people who hurt her, and Dorothy will be good with it.”