Locke 2 (Blackwater Boys #4)

Thirty-Six

Locke

K eenan was going to die.

Locke was going to relish it.

His blood was boiling. Every inch of him was blazing. He fisted his hands, watching the twig fuck lead Kali—his fucking Kali—out of the room and up the staircase.

Keenan had five more minutes to live.

And then Locke was going to murder Jem for pushing this fucking idea, and Conor for not stopping it, and Kali—

He was going to ruin his little prey.

The wolf in him surfaced, and he was thirsty for blood.

Locke kept pace with them. He batted away feminine hands. When one man rudely pushed against his shoulder, Locke elbowed him in the gut and sent him tumbling to the floor. A few cries sounded out behind him, but so what? It wasn’t going to bring the heat on him.

Locke went upstairs, hating the moments he couldn’t see her, hating that he was imagining that cunt’s fingers on her skin. He’d pressed his feral lips against her forehead! What the fuck was he doing to her?

Was this how Conor felt when he raged and beat Charlotte’s cousin to death?

If so, he understood.

He would never question Conor’s sanity ever again.

In fact, Locke would happily go to prison for beating this cunt’s head flat on the ground for that simple kiss.

When Locke reached the top, he found a small corridor full of small stalls, each covered with a black curtain. He heard moans in some of the stalls and ripped a few curtains open, glaring at the couples who gasped at the intrusion.

He ignored their curses and continued, tearing open curtain after fucking curtain—

“You’re so shy.” That slimy voice made him still. “How can you act so innocent when you danced like a hot little slut?”

Locke’s vision went black. He stopped before the curtain that housed this fucking cunt and then tore it open. The sight hadn’t eased him. Keenan was trying to have his hands on her, and Kali’s eyes locked with Locke. She didn’t appear troubled. She was more grossed out than anything.

Keenan turned around to look at Locke. “This stall is taken—”

Locke’s hands were on him in the next heartbeat. He shoved the little weed back, slamming his back against the wall. Okay, not the brightest fucking idea in a packed club, but again, so fucking what? Locke didn’t care.

Keenan grunted out, winded. “Hey, what the fuck—”

Locke covered the weasel’s mouth. “Shut the curtain.”

Kali shut it straightaway.

Keenan tried to squirm. A light shone into the cracks of the curtain. Did security hear the commotion? Locke looked over at Kali, ordering her to, “Moan for me, little lion.”

Kali’s eyes widened, and to his delight, she didn’t question him. She let out a loud moan. Then another. Within moments, the light flashed away from the stall.

Locke turned his gaze back to Keenan. “Hi, little fuck. We have to talk. You’ve been running away from me and didn’t even know it.”

Keenan’s eyes seemed to register. He went utterly still.

“That’s right,” Locke said. “I want to know about the boy that’s gone missing. If you end up screaming, I’ll gut you. Got it?”

“He will,” Kali said quickly. “He’s a bit of a serial killer.”

Keenan was trembling. He tried to nod. Locke dropped his hand.

“I don’t know about a boy,” Keenan whispered, shakily. “I swear it—”

“Why have you been running from all the heat then?”

“I thought I was running from the police—”

“You got something to hide?”

“I fucking deal, man. Of course I have something to hide—”

“Where is your ex-girlfriend?” Locke cut in. “All this talk about her splitting town—”

“She owed me money.”

“Did you kill her?”

Keenan gasped like a schoolgirl. “No, fuck no.”

“Where the fuck is she?”

“She left!”

Locke pounded his back against the wall again, and Kali quickly moaned to remove the heat from the stall. Keenan’s yelp was covered by Locke’s hand.

“Where is she?” Locke demanded again. “You’re going to tell me everything.”

He let his hand drop again.

“I met up with her in town. She told me she was going to one of those shelters,” Keenan said. “You know, the ones Arthur Ambrose keeps open for homeless women.”

“And the boy?”

Keenan shook his head. “She left…and I didn’t see no boy. She didn’t have him with her.”

“Where did he go?”

Keenan swallowed. “She kept saying he was fine. I assumed her fucking sister because she was constantly bothering her. And then she had a lot of money on her, you know what I mean? Money to buy herself more dope. It’s why we had a fight. She wouldn’t let me touch a single penny, and she owed me.”

“Where did she get the money from?” Locke demanded.

“I don’t know—”

“From Ambrose?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. He has a soft spot for homeless ladies.”

“What about little boys?”

Keenan’s face went white as a sheet. “I know nothing about that!”

Locke covered Keenan’s mouth and landed a punch into the weed’s gut. He slumped back, crying in pain. “Let’s start with everything you know then…”