A sharp knock rattled the door. Every muscle in Marcus's body snapped tight. The prospect straightened, hands going to their belts. Wrench moved toward the handle. Who is it? He barked. Bolt, came the answer. Reaper sent an update. Wrench cracked the door just enough to see. satisfied. He let Bolt in and relocked it behind him. Bolt's face was flushed, his hair windswept from the ride. He looked like he'd aged ten years in the last. tower well wrench demanded you find him. Bolt nodded. Then he shrugged. Like none of the answers fit. We found the yard. He said.
And we found where Colt was staying. But he was already gone. Lily's lip trembled. Did you find Daddy? Bolt's expression softened. Yeah, kid. We got him. He hesitated. Peace. Fine. The hitch before that last word didn't go unnoticed. What happened? Marcus asked. Bolt glanced at Wrench, then at the kids, weighing how much they could handle. There was a storage unit at the yard, he said. Locked up tight. Reaper had a feeling about it. Said the pattern didn't make sense unless Colt was hiding something he needed to get to fast. We cracked it open. What was inside? Marcus asked. Bolt's jaw clenched. Pictures, he said. Lots of them. Of Lily. Of you. Of Reaper. Of women we don't recognize. Dates on the back go back years. This wasn't new.
He's been watching all of you for a long time. Lily shrank into the couch. Why would someone take pictures of me? She whispered. Because he's sick, Wrench said. Because he wanted control. The more he knows, the more power he thinks he has. He has. Marcus felt like the floor was tilting. You said women you don't recognize, he said. Any of them look like my mom? Bolt shook his head. Not that we saw. But there was something else. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a folded page. Marcus took it, fingers numb. It was a list. Names, dates, locations. Next to some names was a single word, 'leverage.' Two names near the bottom had stars next to them. Lily, leverage. Marcus, leverage. His chest constricted. This wasn't just about hurting Reaper, Marcus said.
He was building something. A plan. We're not accidents. We're pieces. Bolt nodded grimly. And according to the calendar pinned on the wall, whatever he was planning, it was supposed to happen soon. There were circles around the date the blizzard hit. And today. Wrench cursed under his breath. What about now? Marcus asked. Did you find where he went next? We found tracks leading out the back of the yard, Boltz said. Tire marks from his bike. They headed toward the highway, then vanished in traffic. He's ahead of us. For now. Lily's voice was barely audible. He's not coming back here, is he? Bolt hesitated. We don't know. The honesty was both terrifying and oddly comforting. If you've ever wished someone would just tell you that truth, even when it hurts.
Marcus looked at the list again, at the word that defined him in Colt's mind, leverage. He wasn't a person, not to Colt. He was a lever to pull to make someone else break. Did Reaper see this? Marcus asked. Yeah, Boltz said. He saw it. He didn't take it well. Where is he now? In the garage, Wrench answered. Told everyone else to stand down for an hour. Said he needed time to think before he did something stupid. Marcus could picture it. The man pacing between the bikes. Rage with nowhere to go. Ghosts pressing in from every wall. Can I talk to him?
Marcus asked. Wrench hesitated. He said nobody but club inside that hour. Marcus held up the list. 'I'm on this paper,' he said. He doesn't get to decide. 'I'm just leverage without hearing from me first.' Wrench stared at him, then let out a humorless laugh. 'You really are his kid,' he muttered. He jerked his head toward the door. Bolt, you stay with Lily. Prospects, nobody else in or out. Marcus, you get five minutes. If I'm not dragging you out by then, Reaper will. Marcus stood, heart pounding. Lily grabbed his hand. 'Don't be gone long,' she said. I won't, he promised. He hoped he wasn't lying. The hallway outside felt narrower than before. He could hear hear the faint rumble of a single engine idling somewhere in the garage, a low growl like an animal pacing its cage.