At least I had the files, and Caroline didn’t.
That was a plus.
“You know when this is all over, Reaper is going to tie your ass to a chair so he can pick your brain. I get why he calls you the Vault now. Just exactly how much shit do you have floating around in your brain?”
“Too much,” I muttered, tapping my nails on the end table. “Lena, I need to look at that file.”
“Sorry, Kitty. Not without Reaper’s okay.”
“Well, there has to be something we can do to get the information.”
“Honestly, there isn’t. Besides, that date could mean something different to that brother beside his birth date. Hell, it could be a date he was in an accident, had surgery, got out of jail. Hell Kitty, that date could mean anything.”
“That’s why I need to read that file.”
A loud knock stopped both of us from speaking anymore. Slowly getting up, I reached for the gun I kept on me at all times. Lena was already shutting down her laptop, and as I got into place, she stealthy moved towards the door.
No one knew where we were. We hadn’t used any form of communication with the club. For all intense and purposes, we were off the grid. We paid cash wherever we went. Didn’t use our phones. Hell, we haven’t even ordered room service, so whoever was on the other side of that door wasn’t friendly.
Rushing towards the nearest room, I nodded as Lena quietly leaned against the wall.
“Phantom?” a hushed whispered was heard, and Lena sighed, holstering her weapons before she opened the door and jerked the young man inside the room.
“What the hell are you doing here, Gadget?” Lena griped. “I almost killed you.”
“I figured that’s why I said your name.”
Walking out of the room, I shook my head as the young man smiled at me. “Hi, Kitty. Savage is looking for you.”
“I know.”
“How did you find us, Gadget?” Lena asked sternly.
The young man blushed, then hem hawed as he looked at his feet. “I tracked you.”
Lena growled. “You put a tracker on me.”
“Well, yeah. I wasn’t going to let my sister just go off and get killed. Pharaoh would kick my ass.”
“Boy, if we weren’t related, I would kill you.”
“Sister?” I asked, sitting back down. I knew that when Phantom came to the club, she brought Gadget with her. They were a pair. Where one was, the other wasn’t far behind. They worked well together, so no one thought anything of it. When Gadget went above and beyond to save Ari from that religious cult months ago, he solidified his place within the club. But no one really knew anything about either of them. Phantom hid their identities deep. Not even Matrix or Sypher could find anything on either of them. And what they did find wasn’t much.
“This idiot is my kid brother.”
“Who’s Pharaoh?”
“Our older sister.”
“So just so that everything is in the open, you two are brother and sister. You have another sister named Pharaoh. Are there any other family members I need to worry about showing up unannounced?”
“Only Merc, but he won’t show up unless he absolutely needs to. And trust me, we don’t need him showing up. People tend to die when he’s around.” Gadget informed, then turned and handed Lena an envelope. “Reaper wanted me to give you that. He said to do your techie thing. He wants everything verified. When you have something, anything, he wants you to call him. The club is on full lockdown. Player and Massacre took Layla away. Brothers with families were ordered to get them to safety. No one knows where they went. The clubhouse is like a ghost town. Bullseye is awake, and he, Reaper, and Ghost have been having these secret meetings. None of the remaining brothers knows what’s going on. When Reaper couldn’t get ahold of you, he told me to find you and to give you that letter.”
“Shit,” I muttered, getting to my feet. “Lena, we have to look at that file.”
Lena didn’t say anything as she opened the envelope and read the contents. It didn’t take her long, and when she was done, she said nothing as she put the letter back in the envelope, walked over to the kitchen sink, and used a lighter to burn the letter.
Watching it burn, she waited until it was utterly ash before she headed to the small table where her computer sat. Opening the lid, she began typing. “There,” she said, getting to her feet.
“Read the file.”
Quickly sitting in the chair she just vacated, I scanned the file and read its contents.
“Well…shit.”