“And?” she asks.
“And...Michael Lorenzo is going by a new name these days,” I say, “Matthew DeVito.”
The color drains out of Kassie’s face as the information sinks in.
“But that’s...that’s Tot’s name...” she says slowly.
“It was his picture that came up, too,” I tell her, “The photo was a couple years old, but it was clear as day. Tot owns the computer that those emails were sent from. And I bet you anything that if I looked at the emails Declan’s been getting, they’d lead to the same place.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Kassie says, shaking her head, “Why would Tot do something like this? He seems like such a sweetheart! And why the hell would he be going by a new name?”
“I was hoping you might have a guess,” I tell her, “What do you know about this kid?”
“Not much,” she says, “He started hanging around at the end of the summer. Said he’d come from a pretty abusive home situation. He was looking for a new start, he said. He became a prospect just after Sam was killed.”
“That’s pretty convenient timing,” I point out.
“I guess it is,” Kassie says, her voice pained, “Have we been played by a fucking prospect? Unbelievable...”
“He may just be a pawn,” I say, “Someone working for another club?”
“Dante’s Nine doesn’t have enemies,” Kassie insists, “We’re happy with our territory, we don’t step on anyone’s toes. We’re all about living this life in peace.”
“Come on,” I scoff, “There’s no way the Nine haven’t accrued some enemies over the years, Kassie.”
“I’m telling you, we’re on great terms with the other local MC’s,” Kassie says firmly.
“Well...what if he’s not working for another MC, then?” I go on, “What if he’s like, a narc or something?”
“A narc?” Kassie repeats, smiling wryly.
“You know what I mean,” I say, “He could be some undercover law enforcement type or something, for all we know.”
“That doesn’t follow,” Kassie says, shaking her head, “If he was a cop, why would he be trying to stir up trouble between the Wraiths and the Nine?”
“Entrapment?” I suggest.
“Wait,” Kassie gasps, grabbing my wrist, “What did you say his name was? His real name, I mean.”
“Michael Lorenzo,” I tell her, “Why?”
“Lorenzo...” she breathes, her wide eyes fixed on my face.
“What?” I ask, alarmed by her petrified gaze, “What does that mean?”
“Lorenzo was the name of the man forcing Declan into those fights last summer,” she says, her voice small, “Declan handed him over to the police in exchange for the club’s immunity. He went to prison, Kassie.”
“Shit,” I breathe, “Do you think...Could this be the same family?”
“If it is,” Kassie says, “Then little Tot has a whole lot of power behind him.”
I’m just about to speak again when something catches my eye out the RV window. Or rather, someone. Leo is charging across the compound like a mad bull with Mac right on his tail. Even in the dim light of the rainy afternoon, his eyes are blazing with fury. And he’s headed straight for us.
“What the hell...?” I muse, staring at him through the streaked glass.
“Christ, what now?” Kassie groans, gripping the edges of the table.
We don’t have to wait long to find out. In no time, Leo’s flown across the lot to us. He nearly rips the RV’s door off its hinges, bursting inside. Cold fear pulses through my veins as Leo storms into the tiny space. Though he’s always a towering figure, he seems even bigger here—swollen with outrage and white hot anger. And though I’ve seen him mad before, there’s something about this moment that is unlike any that have come before:
His furious eyes are fixed on me.
“Leo...” I whisper, “Baby, what—?”
“Don’t ‘baby’ me,” he growls through gritted teeth.
“What’s happened?” I press, edging as far away from him as the enclosed space allows.
“Just hold on now, Leo,” Mac commands, breathing hard as he steps into the RV, “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret later.”
Kassie and I trade terrified looks across the table. Leo catches our unspoken communication and lets out a mean laugh.
“That’s right. You two are probably telepathic or some shit by now. Seeing how close you are and everything.”
Oh no, I think desperately to myself, Oh no no no...
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kassie says, fighting to keep her voice even, “But I don’t appreciate you barging in here—”
“And I don’t appreciate being lied to,” Leo snarls, whipping out his cell phone and slamming it down on the table before me. There’s a tiny video buffering on the screen. I glance at the phone and stare up at him, baffled.
“You want me to...watch a YouTube video?” I ask, “Right now?”
“Oh, do I,” Leo spits, pressing play on the device.
Kassie and I lean nervously over the phone as the video queues up. I have no idea what’s going on, or why Leo is so angry about something he found online. The theme music of some trashy morning talk show pipes through the phone’s speakers. This whole thing has just gone from scary to surreal.
“Welcome back,” chirps the peppy blonde host of the program, her tiny face beaming on the cell phone screen, “If you’re just tuning in, we’ve been chatting with one of Hollywood’s newly rising stars, Bryan Richards.”
My jaw nearly hits the kitchen table as the video cuts to the face of my narcissistic ex-boyfriend. He flashes a million dollar grin at the camera, looking like a man on top of the world.
“Thanks again for having me, CeeCee,” he croons.
“Where did you find this?!” I ask Leo.
“Tyke likes his morning shows,” Leo scowl back.
I look on helplessly as the interview unfolds.
“Bryan,” CeeCee chirps, “You’ve just scored your first leading role in a major motion picture franchise. Before our commercial break, we were talking about the wonderful timing of this gig for you, personally. This is your first major role, after a career spent mostly in soaps. And you were in a pretty rough place recently, weren’t you?”