Page 69 of Devil's Queen
“On it,” I reply. I shake free of Rem’s grasp and pull out my cell phone, firing off a text to Pike, Tex, and Coffey. All three respond immediately.
“They’re on their way.”
Maya comes from the house, keys in hand. “You two sit tight. Marissa and Harlow are going to come watch the house. Tinley is meeting us there.”
“Please be careful. Both of you.”
“Don’t start getting soft on us now, Remy,” Cheyenne chastises me as she jogs down the porch steps. They’re both gone within minutes. Rem slumps into the rocking chair on her porch, worry on her face.
“Whatever they find, we’ll deal with it, Rem.”
REMY
The clubsclear the shop within an hour. With the kids and my mom safe at home under lock and key, Rex and I ride to the shop to survey the damage.
On the outside, nothing seems amiss. I find Cheyenne at the side entrance with a grim look on her face.
“How bad is it?”
Looking at the structure, she comments, “It’s still standing.” A sense of dread washes over me. I find myself hesitant to enter, knowing that the damage could mean the end of my father’s hard work and legacy. But I can’t avoid it. Ignoring this reality won’t make it go away.
“Rem, whatever has been damaged can be repaired. That’s what insurance is for,” Rex says in an attempt to comfort me.
“Let’s get this over with.”
It’s not until we get inside that the damage becomes more obvious. Broken glass and motor oil thickly coat the floor, the glass crunching under my boots with each step. I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness as I survey the wreckage. The familiar scent of motor oil that once brought comfort now lingers heavily in the air, mixing with the acrid odor of burned rubber. The shelves that once proudly displayed an array of spare parts and tools now stand empty, their contents scattered across the floor, broken and discarded.
Cheyenne’s voice breaks the silence. “They’ve taken everything of value. The cash register, the tools, even your father’s prized collection of vintage motorcycle parts. All gone.”
My heart sinks at the realization that not only has our shop been violated, but my father’s legacy has been tarnished. He had spent years building this place from scratch, pouring his blood, sweat, and tears into making it a haven for anyone passionate about motorcycles. And now it lies in ruins because of me. Because he dared to bestow a gift upon his only child.
Rex puts a comforting hand on my shoulder, his grip firm yet gentle. “Don’t worry, Rem. We’ll rebuild. We’ll make it even better than before.”
I force a weak smile and nod, grateful for his unwavering support. But deep down, I can’t shake off the feeling of helplessness that washes over me. It’s not just about rebuilding the physical structure, it’s about restoring the spirit that once thrived within these walls. There were times I could still feel or smell my dad in here—the faintest of feelings that he was here in spirit, watching over me. Looking around at the destruction, the only thing I feel is emptiness.
“Did they touch the office?” I finally force out.
“You don’t want to go up there, Remy. Trust me.”
Pushing past her, I climb up the creaking stairs, my heart pounding with apprehension and desperation. The door to my office is slightly ajar as if inviting me in to witness the aftermath. With trembling hands, I push it open. The smell inside smacks me in the face within seconds. I stumble back, a gasp escaping my mouth as if the air has turned hostile.
The scene before me is devastating. Papers are scattered across the room, torn and crumpled. The desk, once neat and organized, is smeared with feces and disemboweled rats, the dark fur barely visible against the piles of feces. The framed photograph of my father and me sits on the floor, its glass shattered and the picture soaked in urine. A desecration of not only my father’s memory but also a violation of my own sanctuary and a message.
Tears well in my eyes, threatening to spill over. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to remain composed. “We have to clean this up,” I say, my voice shaking with determination.
“We will, Rem.” Rex, sensing my distress, rushes to my side and gently guides me away from the horrifying scene. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here. You don’t need to subject yourself to this.”
As Rex leads me out of the office, I glance back one last time, my heart heavy with grief and anger. It’s a violation that cuts deep, a wound that may never fully heal, but I refuse to let this act of destruction define us.
Cheyenne and Tinley are waiting downstairs when we return.
“Please tell me there was something on the internal cameras.”
“They took them. Every last piece of equipment is gone. It’s like they knew where to look.”
I lean against the wall, my legs trembling with exhaustion and frustration. “How could they have known? How could they have known about everything?” I mutter to myself, feeling a mix of anger and disbelief. “Wolff hasn’t been inside since before my dad died. All of the extra security equipment was added by me. It’s not possible that he could have known about it.” I peer over to Rex. “What if it’s not him? What if we were wrong?”
Rex’s brows furrow as he considers my words. “It’s possible, Rem. Maybe we’ve been so focused on Wolff that we’ve overlooked someone else, but who else would have a motive to do this?”