Come morning, Emmett gathered everyone together at their hideout. Silence hung heavy in the air.

Knowing how ungodly of an hour it was to summon his people there, Emmett made sure to order them breakfast. Containers of biscuits and gravy scattered across the counter in the kitchen. But before they ate, Emmett needed to strategize a plan. Keeping his head on straight proved to be difficult, but he couldn't let his grief devour him. Showing weakness wouldn't help anyone.

If Mal's death resulted in a drug deal gone wrong, then there was a chance it could happen to another one of his guys. Emmett had to figure out who Mal was in contact with before he died. Who wanted to meet him so late in the cemetery? Did it relate to those drugs he lost?

Emmett tried to piece everything together as he paced in front of the plasma television set. It all came back to those fucking drugs. Mal was acting so weird the night he came to collect the supply. Emmett never pushed him for answers like he should've. Instead, he let his anger get in the way. If he could turn back time, he'd try to be more understanding. He should've pulled Mal aside and tried to help him figure out what went wrong.

Nobody cares until you're dead. How sad of a truth that was.

Marijuana and cigarette smoke drifted in the air. His right hand, Alfie, rolled a blunt on the coffee table. Magazines of naked women and an abandoned deck of playing cards scattered across the table. Emmett reached out for his can of beer, resting on a photo of a brunette chick's left tit. Certainly not his choice of reading material.

Kazimir made himself comfortable on the couch, snuggled up with a blanket while smoking a cigarette. Coked to his eyeballs, his lover did everything to help him ease his grief that night. After they got high, he fucked Kazimir until all his worries faded to nothing but intoxicated lust. Nothing mattered when he was with him. Although it only lasted for a few minutes, it was long enough for Emmett to get his shit together.

Mal should've been there at the meeting explaining himself. Not locked away in some dead body cooler at the morgue.

It made Emmett's skin crawl to remember how they found Mal's bleeding body. Sleep didn't come to him at all that night, so he turned to sex like he used to do when shit hit the fan. Fucking around became a coping mechanism for Emmett. When his emotions got too complicated, he drowned them out with coke and cock. Perfect combo, right?

"I can't believe Mal's gone." Alfie sighed as he passed his blunt to his girlfriend, Rylee, who sat in his lap. His strong arms supported her backside, keeping her from falling off.

Taking a hit, Rylee then passed it back to her boyfriend. "Who would do this? Mal was always so nice to everyone."

"One of them motherfuckin vipers did it," Charlie spat from where he was sprawled out on the couch beside Kazimir."We gotta find out who, then I'm gonna beat the fuckin hell outta them."

"We're getting ahead of ourselves here," Emmett said. "So far, we have no evidence of who killed Mal. Instigating a gang war without proof would be ignorant, especially with us being down a man and without Everly."

His little sister used to help them by using her drone to spot out areas during gang wars, making it efficient in finding their foe and not being ambushed. After realizing what she truly desired in life, she abandoned their gang for good and chose that damn detective over him. Emmett was still spiteful over it, but he understood his sister's feelings. He wouldn't force her to stay with them.

"That's a good point," Alfie told him. "Until we know for sure that they're behind Mal's murder, we don't want to stir them up. Not to mention, I'm sure the cops will expect us to retaliate against them after finding Mal's body. It was clearly made to look like a hit."

"It's gotta be them damn vipers! Who else would do this, boss man?" Charlie asked.

"I suspect Mal owes someone money," Emmett replied. "When Kaz and I got to the cemetery, we found his car first. Inside, there was a backpack full of cash. Dunno where he got it from. Police probably have it sitting in their evidence locker now."

If only he'd taken the cash out of his truck before letting those damn cops take it to the impound lot. He knew damn well that they took whatever suspicious they found from his truck. It wouldn't be the first time money went missing from one of his vehicles after they searched it. Those damn bastards.

Charlie took a quaff of his beer before saying, "He never told me nothing bout that. Just knew he wanted to buy his girl something for her birthday next week."

"With that much money?" Emmett shook his head. "I don't think so. That doesn't explain why he was at the cemetery either."

"Ah, that's true." Charlie scratched at his neck beard. "Mal made a lot of enemies out on the streets. He ain't no good with hand-to-hand fights either, you know that."

"If only we'd gotten there sooner." Emmett sighed. "Mal knew he'd gotten into some deep shit. That's why he sent that text to me."

Looking down at the floor, Charlie said in a soft voice, "Or maybe he sent it cuz he knew he was gonna die."

Imagining his old friend sending him one last text before dying pissed Emmett off. If he had that kind of time, then he should've used it to snitch on whoever planned to kill him. That was what Emmett didn't understand. Why didn't Mal come to any of them for help if he owed someone money? A thought occurred to him, but he didn't voice it out loud. What if he'd gotten that money to replenish the stash he owed Emmett?

"Why wouldn't he call the cops if he thought he'd die?" Kazimir asked.

"What have those fuckers ever done for Mal? They always hassled him on the streets and gave him hell," Charlie replied. "I don't blame him for not calling those useless bastards."

"True, Mal didn't have a good rep with the police," Emmett said. "I just don't understand why he didn't come to any of us. Even when I went to visit him, he seemed off."

"Where do we go from here?" Charlie asked. "We can't count on the cops to solve shit. Look how good that did for Kaz."

Kazimir almost faced criminal charges for his neighbor's murder. The police had been adamant about his guilt. Had Emmett not intervened, Kazimir would've been placed in a similar cell that Mal had once endured. They were lucky enough to clear his name and get the actual culprit apprehended.

"I want to get a hold of Mal's supplier," Emmett said. "Lately, Mal has been bringing in more coke than usual. While that's not a bad thing, it is suspicious. I questioned him about it once. He said something about getting a good deal on it, but I think that's bullshit."

"That could've played a part in his murder," Kazimir suggested. "Maybe Mal was promising to pay them back but never did? Is it possible he took some kind of loan out?"

"He might've," Emmett replied. "I don't understand why though. Maybe something happened with his old supplier? He found some new shady asshole and got ripped off, couldn't pay them back?"

"That would explain why he didn't have all the drugs when you went to visit him earlier that day," Kazimir said.

That gained Alfie attention. "Mal lost the drugs? Fuck were you gonna tell us that? You never mentioned that to me last night."

"Soon. Just thought Mal's death is more important right now," Emmett shot back, groaning. "Look, I know I coddled the little shit sometimes, but we've got history. Mal's always been good for the supply and money. He'd have gotten it back to us."

"Well, he won't be this time. Not unless his damn ghost rises up and delivers it," Alfie scoffed.

"Mal made a dumbass mistake and died for it. Dunno what else you want me to do. Call a séance and scold him?" Emmett countered.

"Come on now, arguing ain't gonna do shit," Charlie snapped. "We've gotta figure this shit out. Who would he go to for drugs beside his regular dealers? And why?"

"Fuck if I know." Alfie shrugged. "I've always had one supplier who doesn't give me the run-around. Poor bastard's got too much on the line to lose."

"If Sal had enough supply for all our clients, we'd only use him," Emmett said. "Unfortunately, he can't get that much. Not without looking suspicious and getting his own ass caught. We should go pay Mal's usual supplier a visit, and see what's been going on."

Alfie nodded. "Sounds like a good place to start. If Mal fucked up, he'll let you know."

"I'll get a hold of him. See if he'll meet with me soon and if Mal's actually been getting the drugs from him," Emmett said. "In the meantime, we've gotta make preparations for Mal's funeral. He's got no other family but us, and everything he owns is under my name."

"He has no relatives?" Kazimir asked. "Not even out of state?"

Emmett shook his head. "None that care. Mal's folks disowned him when he was fifteen."

"Those bastards better not show their fucking faces round here," Charlie muttered.

"I'm kinda lost," Kazimir admitted. "Why would his parents do that to him?"

"Mal's family was fucked up. They couldn't handle his rebellious phase, so they tossed him out on his ass," Emmett replied. "I took him under my wing when no one else would. I know he's made mistakes, but he was loyal to us. So, I'm going to do everything that I can to find his killer, and the rest of you will help me. If not, you can get the fuck out of here."

Silence filled the room again as his members glanced around at each other, almost expecting someone to be ignorant enough to disobey their leader. Emmett had no time for bullshit. If anyone thought Mal deserved his death, then they were free to fuck off. The rebels always had each other's backs.

Something unnerved Emmett as he glanced around the room at his most loyal people. He trusted all of them with his own life, but he'd felt the same way about their former member, Luca Patterson. While he'd been a police officer, Emmett swore the guy would always have his back. Instead, he pulled a gun on him and threatened to send him to jail if he didn't comply. Despite how many years had passed since that day, Emmett never got over it. People could easily turn from friend to foe.

Mal hadn't been trying to do something like that to him, was he?

"This meeting's over," Emmett said. "Unless anyone has something else to say?"

"Tell me when you get in contact with Mal's supplier," Alfie told him. "I'm coming with ya."

Emmett nodded. "I'm going to try getting a hold of him while y'all eat breakfast. He doesn't like speaking over the phone much, prefers in-person contact, cause he thinks the fucking FBI is listening in on him. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my office."

Nobody argued against Emmett's decision. As he made his way toward his makeshift office, a cold chill crept down his spine. Paranoia wrapped tightly around his brain, making it difficult to think rationally. His people would never betray him. It was crazy to even consider that. None of them would've killed Mal, right?

💀

Later that night, reporter Milada Van came on with a live report outside Brian Reynolds' house. Emmett reached across the table for the remote, hidden underneath the flap of one of their pizza boxes, and turned the volume up. The rebels paid no attention to the news broadcast, but Emmett was on high alert as he nursed his beer. What had those fuckhead cops found?

Body found flashed across the bottom of the screen, and soon enough, the camera filmed toward the front door, where they wheeled someone out. Emmett assumed it was Brian in the body bag since they made no mention of the young girl. He waited for them to identify her, but to his surprise, the news never brought her up in their report. They only found one body. Brian's.

What the hell happened to the girl? Why didn't they mention the blankets upstairs in the attic or the clothes that had been tied together to help them escape his house? None of it made sense. They wouldn't neglect to report that to the public, not with the culprit being dead. What was really going on? Had someone cleaned that all up?

"Oh, I know that dead guy," Charlie spoke up, pointing a chubby finger at the screen. "He worked down at the Lucky Lady Lounge. Seen him there all the time."

"Ain't he that pervert who Rylee kicked in the nuts?" Alfie asked, biting into his slice of pizza.

"Yeah, that's the guy. Never liked him," Rylee replied. "He was fucking creepy. Kept trying to get me to go home with him. I wasn't going to. Other girls there had warned me he was trouble and to stay away from him."

"Oh yeah?" Emmett spoke up.

"All the girls I've hooked up with there told me he was shit," Charlie said. "Told me how he treated them horribly, acted like he owned them, and not in a fun kinky way. One chick told me he tried getting her to go home with him and she refused. He kept trying to get her drunk too. Just like he tried with Rylee."

"I'm surprised they never fired him. Sounds like he was a real piece of shit." Emmett took a big gulp of his beer.

Emmett couldn't understand why they left the young woman he killed off the report. Unless, had she miraculously survived the gunshot and got away?

Panic shot through Emmett as he imagined her crawling away to safety, rambling about a man who tried to kill her. Why else would they not report her dead body? Mayor Kaufman wouldn't have interfered, would he? Did he hide her body? But what about the others, who escaped? What happened to them?

"Boss man." Charlie snapped him from his thoughts.

"Yeah?" Emmett murmured.

"Do you think that Brian dude has something to do with Mal's murder?" Charlie asked. "I remember they argued at the Lucky Lady Lounge. Dunno what about, cuz I wasn't with them. I sat with the ladies. He pulled Mal in the back and he came back pissed. Left without saying nothing to me."

Emmett froze. "Wait, what? When did this happen?"

"Shit, I dunno. Few days ago, maybe? Ain't been too long," Charlie said. "You think Mal killed him? And then his people, them vipers, came after him?"

There were too many unanswered questions and not enough answers. What the hell had Mal been doing around scum like Brian?

"I'm not sure, Fatlard." Emmett polished off his beer and grabbed another, flicking the top open. "But you can be damn sure I'll get to the bottom of it."

His supper got interrupted by a sudden vibration against his pocket. That familiar contact with a shit emoji popped up. Such awful timing. But after what he'd seen on the news, he knew that bastard must be ready to pay him. It was only a text that time, but it made him no less anxious.

Meet me at our spot at midnight.