There was information in there that no one would give up willingly, and it scared the hell out of people, which served our purposes really goddamn well. Dahlia always teased us about everyone being scared of us, as if it wasn’t purposeful. As if all of this wasn’t extremely intentional and premeditated. Our fathers had done it to protect our families, and now we were doing it to protect our future family. It was that fucking simple.
Plus, it made changing shit really easy. You know, for example, when there weren’t technically enough people enrolled for a photography class at Silver Oak, but the Dean of Arts decided to push it through anyway. After all, he wouldn’t want his family finding out about his weekly motel meet-ups with his young assistant.
Convenient, right?
The people who lived in this town were fucked up. Something that was only further impressed upon me when the FBI contacted us about a drug ring that may have been infiltrating our community. I’d been confused on why it had been a big enough deal for the FBI to be part of… until I realized just how large of an impact it was making on the pharmaceutical industry. Apparently they didn’t care about your opioid addiction until it affected the wallets of the powerful when you turned to alternate sources. Bastards.
Nevertheless, I didn’t like the idea of drug dealers in our town, no matter how ‘high end’ they appeared. Pill popping was a problem in our country, and it didn’t surprise me that it had made its way here. Money didn’t make addiction go away, it just made it invisible.
When we made the decision to work with them, we had assumed it would be as easy as giving them the names of the people we most suspected to be purchasing from the group they were looking into. We’d assumed that was where it would have stopped.
It did not.
No, this entire scenario was becoming far larger than we could have imagined. We had assumed that it was going to be some local dealer that was selling them, but when they followed the chain that began to make itself apparent, they began to suspect that this opioid drug ring was connected to someone they had been trying to catch for years.
Dixon Glenn.
I’d heard of the name before this situation, and I found myself a little concerned that someone like him would find his way into our town. I had no doubt we could handle him, but I was going to wait to see if the FBI could do it legally before our families had to actually get involved. I would much rather lend support than bring that much attention to ourselves. I mean, the bastard had escaped from federal prison and had yet to be found. It had been assumed he was overseas, but now they were thinking that wasn’t true, that their lead to him being in Tokyo was false.
Yeah, I’d been surprised they’d told us that as well. Although, I had a feeling they were attempting to make sure we were truly invested in this as they pushed for more and more help. I didn’t really care all that much as long as they got the fucker out of here. It was that clean cut for me. That simple.
My biggest fear? That they would attempt to involve Dahlia.
We were trying to do right by her, not wanting to involve her unless we had to. Plausible deniability was important legally, but more than anything, I knew her knowing would directly threaten her. Knowledge was power in this world, and while I wanted to give Dahlia everything, every part of me, I wasn’t willing to put her safety at risk just to clear my guilt.
My brow dipped as I considered the other problem. The one that seemed far more important and yet was vastly more complicated. With all the power and influence we had, we couldn’t seem to get a hold on something that should have been impossibly simple.
Who the hell was bullying Dahlia?
There were ways of finding out immediately, but we were trying our best to respect her privacy. It was getting to the point, though, that I wasn’t sure we could keep waiting for her to give us an in. To give us permission. I didn’t want to break Dahlia’s trust, but I didn’t disagree with Yates—it was far too simple to assume that it had just ended. Shit like that didn’t happen in our world.
We’d gotten a hold of the number from before, but it had been from a burner phone, and between her deleting any evidence and trying to force us to ‘forget’ about it, we were left at somewhat of a dead end. Which wasn’t good, because not only was it clear to everyone that Dahlia was still not okay, but it was going to end in forcing our hand. I had far more hang-ups on her privacy than any of the others. I had been able to temper King from afar, but Yates and Lincoln fucking fed off his ideas, so I knew I was going to lose this battle eventually.
Yates’s plan was fucked up. I preferred King’s timeline of getting her to move in with us, but that required her to understand that we were in love with her. I ran a hand through my hair and looked over at Dermot, wondering just how he was going to play into all of this.
I had a good guess on what King thought, but I just wasn’t sure. I trusted Dermot, but I also knew how delicate this situation was, and I just hoped he understood this wasn’t some stupid fucking game. I had to trust that King knew his cousin well enough to think he wouldn’t risk all of this. I’d always liked the guy, but my opinion was still up in the air, mainly because I had no idea how Dahlia felt about him.
A knock had all of us looking towards the door. I stood and crossed the massive family room, hoping like hell that it was Dahlia. Throwing open the heavy front door, I scowled, realizing it was Yates. A pissed off Yates.
Wonderful.
“Dahlia went out somewhere, I have no idea where,” he bit out.
I blinked, processing his words. “What the fuck are you talking about, Yates?”
“I pissed her off at dinner, she left and locked me from the house, so after dinner I told her parents I needed to talk to her, and she wasn’t in her goddamn bedroom. She left her phone, so I have no fucking idea where she went off to,” he snarled. I knew he was pissed, and I also knew it wasn’t at Dahlia.
He was pissed at himself, and that made two of us.
King’s voice filled the space of the foyer. “What the hell is wrong with you? Did you bring it up to her? Of course you fucking did, I don’t even know why I bother—”
“I am not going to baby her,” Yates hissed, attempting to look indifferent and apathetic. I didn’t buy it. I also wasn’t interested in listening to the two of them fight tonight. They did it so fucking often, and sometimes it escalated to the point of them carrying injuries into the next day.
Mostly because of Yates. Not to say King didn’t have a temper, but Yates was triggered super easily. Running a hand over my face, I looked at Lincoln and Dermot.
“Let’s just go find her,” I offered and slipped on my shoes from where they laid near the door.
“Anyone have a goddamn idea of where she’d be?” Yates demanded.