Page 64 of Pocus
“Motherfucker,” I mutter, standing up abruptly. “Seer. Ride with me.”
Seer stands and follows me without any question.
* * *
Pocus
They are all here; Anderson Grey, Hans Butcher, and Gary Craig. On the outside, they look like respectable men held in high esteem by the general public. But beneath their expensive tailored suits and well-practiced smiles, they are just filthy bastards who are unworthy of the applause rippling through the audience at the moment. Anderson steps away from the podium with a slight bow, and the Mayor replaces him on the stage. Anderson goes to sit in one of the empty chairs beside Butcher. They watch on with mild interest as the Mayor drones on and on about his future plans for the city.
“This is boring as hell,” Seer says quietly beside me. “Why are we here again?”
When I asked Seer to ride with me, I bet he didn’t think we’d be sitting in a crowd of Gary Craig’s supporters while he gave a boring speech at the opening of some public building project handled by Anderson’s all thanks to his contact at the Department of Code Enforcement.
I watch Anderson laugh at something Butcher says and lean in to whisper a response. Those three bastards are up to no good. I’m sure that their relationship runs a lot deeper than they let on to the general public. It’s why Anderson can get strings pulled that are seemingly impossible for other people.
“Listen to him drone on and on about his stupid plans,” Seer mumbles with a scoff. “Motherfucker had three years to prove himself, and now he’s just trying too hard. It’s almost painful to watch him butter up the public so pathetically. Everyone knows that he’s planning to run for a second term. Anderson must be helping him in some way.”
“I wonder if the Mayor knows that Anderson tried to have him killed,” I murmur almost to myself.
But Seer hears me. He looks toward the stage and cocks his head thoughtfully. “The question is, why did Anderson want the Mayor dead? And why are they suddenly acting all chummy again?”
“Seeing as the Mayor isn’t dead yet, it’s either his plans have been suspended or compromised. Either way, those three need to be separated. To do that, we need to find strong evidence of foul play – something that can make those two abandon Anderson without a second thought.”
“The only person that can find such valuable information is Knix,” Seer says. “Which is why I think we should find him instead of sitting in this boring program exchanging hypotheses, don’t you think?”
“We are doing just that, aren’t we?” I say, shooting my brows up at Seer. “If Anderson has Knix as I suspect, he’ll lead us to him sooner or later. We just have to stick to the son of a bitch.”
Seer runs a hand through his hair with a frustrated snicker. “For how long?”
“A slimy bastard like him can’t stay still for too long,” I reply quietly. “A couple of days at most.”
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
Abigail
“It’s been one fucking week and nothing!”
Pocus closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as if trying to regulate his emotions. He seems more agitated with each day that passes without any information on Knix’s whereabouts. I’m worried about him. I’ve read on the internet that anxiety is one of the major triggers for Intermittent Explosive Disorder. I try to wrack my brain for things that might help calm him down, but nothing comes to mind despite the fact that I’ve stayed up late reading everything I can find on IED. Maybe that’s because I feel just as frustrated. These days I’ve been feeling more on edge. I keep having scary nightmares where I’m caught up in a strange mist and surrounded by frightening fathomless figures. At first, I thought the nightmares were just that; nightmares. But they’ve become impossibly constant, and I can’t even close my eyes without seeing the mist. Each time I wake up, I see the bracelet around my wrist shining ominously, reinforcing the horrors I subconsciously try to deny. I try to hide my distress from Pocus as much as possible, but that’s become harder since he’s such an attentive lover. I know I should tell him these things, but I don’t have the heart to bother him with something seemingly petty when he has more than enough on his plate with club business and Mr. Anderson’s threat.
The nightmares are probably nothing to worry about.
“You need to stay calm, Pocus,” I say finally, trying for a soothing voice myself despite the brimming storm in my heart. I smile softly into his eyes and tap the empty space beside me on the bed. “Come here.”
Pocus looks at the bed and back at my face for a few pensive seconds. He sighs heavily and comes to sit beside me. He drops his head on my shoulder with another sigh. “It’s just…I hate feeling so helpless when one of my men is out there, probably in danger.”
“You said Knix sometimes has to go undercover to get information,” I mention suggestively. “Maybe it’s the same this time?”
Pocus shakes his head. “It doesn’t feel right. I’m almost sure Anderson has Knix, but I think the bastard knows we’re onto him. I’ve been shadowing him for a week now, but there have been no suspicious movements from his side. He goes from home to his office, attends boring work events, and returns home like clockwork. I feel like he’s taking me on a wild goose chase while mocking me for taking the bait. What if I should be looking elsewhere? What if my intuition is wrong this time? What if I can’t...?”
“What if you go again tomorrow?” I say, gently taking his hand in mine. “What if tomorrow holds newer perspectives and better possibilities? You’ll get nothing done by getting yourself so worked up.”
“I know,” Pocus says quietly. He sounded a little defeated this time. “It’s just that Evanesce is getting antsier by the day, and I can’t blame her. I can’t imagine going a whole week without seeing you or knowing your whereabouts. I think it’d drive me insane.”
My heart skips at his words. I didn’t know I meant so much to him – or it’s that I didn’t allow myself to hope. Maybe it’s because I’ve never mattered so much to anyone. But to have someone so staunchly in my corner as Pocus has been in the past few weeks is more than incredible. The feeling is…indescribable. But I don’t say anything. What do I say to something like that except to quietly revel in the selfish happiness that’s spreading in my chest?
“I feel guilty for locking her up like that,” Pocus continues, sighing heavily again. “But the thought of having her anywhere close to Anderson makes my stomach twist. I have so much disgust and loathing for the man and what he might do that it becomes impossible to breathe. I hate that I’m scared of the bastard, but I can’t deny it, Abigail. I’ve got a lot to lose, and he has too much power to weave around. I can’t dare to let my guard down until I destroy everything he has built. I can’t let him get the best of me. I let people hurt me enough in the past…I can’t do that anymore.”
I link our fingers and smile up at him reassuringly. “I know, Pocus…I know very well how strong you are. You’re the most admirable man I’ve ever met. You won’t stop until you find a way. I know that very well. I guess that’s why your club members have so much faith in you. You’ll definitely find a way, Pocus.”