A ginormous bear statue in a pair of boxers that held up a Welcome to Lazy Bear sign shook in the wind. They centered it right in front of the motel building. Few cars parked in the spacious lot, so Emmett found a spot in front of the lobby.

When Kazimir climbed out, his worn-out converse splashed in a puddle. The wetness seeped down into his socks. He tread over half of a squashed burger as he followed Emmett up to the receptionist office. He felt like it was the perfect place to lie low and hide. Kazimir wondered how many others came there for illicit desires and drugs.

The interior design of the place resembled something plucked out of the seventies. All the dust gathered on the front desk made Kazimir consider that the seventies were the last time anyone cleaned too. Sometimes fancy hotels put out candy dishes with peppermints or other tasty treats. The Lazy Bear motel had a cracked plastic bowl of off-brand condoms.

A short, curly-haired man gazed up at them from his cell phone. "What room do y'all want? Almost everything is open right now."

"We're looking for a friend," Emmett told him as he slid some twenties out of his wallet. "Chelsea. She comes here a lot."

The receptionist's eyes widened like they'd pop out of the sockets. He snatched the money from Emmett and went clicking away on his computer.

"Room eight."

"Thank you." Emmett tucked his wallet back in the breast pocket of his suit.

"Hey, I've seen you around here before." The receptionist pointed to Emmett. "You used to come by a lot on the weekends. Your name's Griffin, right?"

Emmett smirked. "Sure is."

Before they could chat more, Emmett steered Kazimir away from the receptionist to the room Chelsea stayed in. They got in the cramped elevator that made an ungodly screech before taking them up.

"You've been here before?" Kazimir asked him. "Is Griffin your code name?"

"Business reasons," Emmett replied. "I needed a fake name, so I used an ex's. I always pay with cash too. Like everyone else here does."

"You mind me asking what kind of business?"

"I do, actually." The elevator opened and Emmett stepped out. "It's nothing of your concern, so you don't need to worry about it."

Kazimir folded his arms over his chest, following close behind the gang leader. What business could he be doing there that he didn't want him knowing about? He thought they'd grown close enough not to keep secrets from each other, but apparently not. Despite how Kazimir poured his heart out to him about his past and promised to keep Luca's murderer a secret, Emmett didn't trust him. Maybe he should've listened to Jordy.

Nobody bothered to decorate the hallway with paintings or touch up the atrocious walls. Whatever puke green shade it originally had been peeked out from the chipped beige paint. A musty odor made Kazimir's nostrils flare. All the dust irritated his poor nose even more. He couldn't hold back the sneezing fit that raked from his body. Even Emmett got a bit choked up when they reached Chelsea's room.

The gang leader pounded his fist on the door and called out, "Room service."

As if that unsanitary motel had actual room service. Kazimir doubted they even changed the bed sheets after each customer who stayed for a visit. He grimaced at such a thought.

An older woman cracked the door open, peeking out at the two of them. Kazimir almost expected birds to fly out of her tangled nest of raven hair. She dragged her cigarette away from her lips, smudged in red lipstick, puffing smoke in their faces.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"I'm Kaz and this is my boyfriend." Kazimir rocked back and forth on his feet. "I was a friend of Hank's. I think you might know him."

Chelsea burst into a fit of hideous sobs and pulled the artist into her embrace. Kazimir looked to Emmett for support, who just shrugged.

"Come in." She released Kazimir and opened the door wider. "Just ignore the mess."

They tread across a trail of dirty clothes strewn across the room. Kazimir almost stepped on an old banana peel halfway buried under a lacy bra. The room reeked of musk and other weird, unidentifiable scents. Kazimir wrinkled his nose as Chelsea plopped down on the lumpy mattress and reached for the beer can on her nightstand.

Chelsea lived like a slob. Kazimir had roomed with some guys who acted the same way, not bothering to care for their home. He hated staying in those places when he was house hopping. Being at the motel brought back memories from those lonely nights, when he wondered where he'd get his next fix and meal.

"So, you were in a relationship with Hank?" Kazimir asked, glaring around the room. No wonder he always went back home to his wife's clean house.

"We were college sweethearts." Chelsea took another quaff of her beer, letting out a loud belch. "Hold on. I got a picture from our very first date." She leaned over for her purse on the floor, almost tumbling off the bed. "Look how young we were. Hank was so handsome, wasn't he?"

Kazimir accepted the photo she handed him. They looked happy together. He wondered what went wrong. How did Chelsea end up here and Hank with Barbara?

"He promised me we'd get married someday." Chelsea sniffled, then took another big gulp of her beer. "But we got into a big argument one day. It was so stupid, looking back on it. He met Barbara and fell in love right away. I don't blame him for that either. She's such a beautiful woman too, and they've got such a sweet boy for a son."

"Jerome is a nice kid," Kazimir said. "Sucks how he got involved with the Black Vipers drug business."

Chelsea let out a snort. "He better be careful. They'll kill him too. Those Black Vipers don't mess around. I know they're the ones who killed my Hank too. He thought about leaving town, but Barbara didn't want to. She wanted to stay, because of her job."

"How did you and Hank rekindle your relationship?" Emmett asked her.

Chelsea could barely give a coherent response, considering how sloshed she'd gotten. Judging by her motel room, it seemed like she stopped caring about herself a long time ago. She mentioned the Viper Lounge, where Alex worked though. Kazimir couldn't understand why Hank cheated on Barbara and kept going back to Chelsea. Perhaps it was true love? Or pity?

"So, Hank was dealing again?" Kazimir questioned.

Chelsea nodded. "You get good money. He needed that for his boy, Jerome. I think he wanted to send him to a nice college. Somewhere far away from here."

"He probably wanted Jerome away from the gangs," Kazimir said.

"I wish someone would've done the same for Hank. He didn't deserve that." Chelsea got up on unsteady feet and grabbed another cold one from the fridge. She didn't bother to watch her step. She tread all over fast food bags and dirty clothes.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Kazimir told her.

"It's all those Black Vipers fault." She repeated and quaffed her second beer, crushing the can as she downed the mind-numbing liquor.

"He started dealing for them and couldn't get out, could he?" Kazimir asked her.

Chelsea sighed. "Hank tried to stay clean. He was for the first few years after Jerome was born. Barbara knew about his bad habits and helped him too. She's a nurse, so she knew how to care for him best. I never could do that. I always enabled him. He was the one who got me hooked on coke too, but I'll never blame him for it. I was just too weak to resist temptation. Instead of helping him better himself, I let him ruin me."

"Drugs have a way of doing that to people," Kazimir said. "It makes us feel amazing as it slowly kills us."

"I wish he never found me. I wish he never got with those damn vipers at the art gallery."

Those Black Vipers were behind everything. They pulled Hank back into their drug underworld and he relapsed, but it was too late for him to pull out of their organization.

"That's where it all went wrong for him, isn't it?" Kazimir asked.

Chelsea nodded. "They brought him back into the shit after he spent so long recovering. He couldn't resist the temptation, not with the money he'd be making."

Chelsea's words slurred as she rambled on more about how toxic the gangs were. Her rambles morphed into old memories of Hank. Their questions went in one ear and out the other. She was too drunk to comprehend much of anything else but her reminiscence.

Kazimir didn't even bother asking her when she'd last seen Hank. She probably lost track of the days a long time ago. All they'd learned was Hank hid a secret life from his friends and family by cheating and dealing. Everything connected back to the Black Vipers. Could they have put a hit out on Hank? If so, who did it?

They left Chelsea to let her grieve over her murdered lover. Kazimir worried about the poor woman, who'd lost someone so dear to her. He hoped she did nothing too reckless.

Crossing the old hallway, Kazimir wondered what schemes Emmett had been up to in such a filthy place and why he'd use another name. Surely he wasn't hooking up with men there.

Wind rustled against them as they made their way across the parking lot to Emmett's truck. It was still morning and no new visitors had arrived.

"So, what do you wanna do now?" Emmett asked.

"I want to go undercover at the art gallery," Kazimir replied. "I could get a hold of the art gallery manager, Fraser. He seemed to like me. I worked with him once back when Hank got me a spot to showcase my paintings there."

Emmett unlocked the doors and pulled his open. "That could be dangerous. What kind of undercover work are you considering?"

"I don't know." Kazimir shrugged, climbing up into the passenger seat. "Something's not right there, and I want to get a closer look into how they're operating their drug business. Don't you want to do the same? If we can shut their operation down, you could take on their new clients."

Emmett sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel after he turned on the heat. "I love the way you're thinking, but again, this would be very dangerous. I won't have any eyes and ears on you. Those Black Vipers don't mess around either. You could end up like Hank. And I won't let that happen."

That was difficult for Kazimir to digest. He didn't want to die, but what else could they do? It was their best shot at figuring out what happened so the police could clear his name. Hank's murder connected to that gang. Kazimir knew that much. The culprit most likely worked in the art gallery too. If Kazimir could get close enough, he could reveal the true killer.

"It's a chance I have to take," Kazimir told him. "I'll be careful, I promise. Plus, I have you and the rebels to protect me."

Emmett sighed. "Alright, I'll consider it. But if I think you're in too much danger, I'll pull you out of there immediately. We'll go over this crazy plan of yours more with the others and see what they have to say about it."

Kazimir grinned. "Got it. Thanks for having my back."