Chapter 10: The Cage

Hazel's POV

Bram called me at ten-forty on Saturday night, and he didn't say hello.

"Neil's car is at the Lakeshore Room," he said. "Danica's is next to it. I'm coming to get you."

I was already pulling on my boots.

He picked me up outside the kitchen, and neither of us talked until the city lights thinned out along Route 9.

"That place took my father's first truck," he said then, to the road. "I know the door, and I know the man on it."

"The floor boss."

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I told you I'd say it when I was sure." His jaw tightened. "I'm sure."

I wanted to be angry with him.

But his hands were gripping the wheel so hard that his knuckles had gone white.

I thought about what it must cost a man to drive back to a place like that.

"You don't have to come in," I said.

"I'll be in the lot. If anyone touches you, you say my name loud enough to carry."

He parked at the edge of the gravel and turned off the lights.

The Lakeshore Room had a neon sign shaped like a fan of cards, and no windows.

A big man in a black jacket stood at the side door with his arms folded.

I walked up and stopped in front of him.

"I'm here for my husband," I said. "Neil Gerrard."