His Identity

55

"Aveline," Zale says as he walks in, heading straight towards the bar where I'm wiping the counter.

"What can I get you?" I ask, having to raise my voice so he'd be able to hear me since the music's loud as hell in the background. Unfortunately for me, Nat hasn't come to work, saying she's unwell so today's proving to be boring. After my conversation with Carter, I thought I'd spend the rest of my time here seeing as I was bored.

"Whatever you want," he slides into a seat. "Hey, have you heard from Nick lately?"

My actions halt as I look at him before shrugging, "it's been a day since we talked."

"Oh," his lips pull up in a frown which naturally intrigues me. I place the rag aside, not bothering to hurry and make his drink. "What's wrong?"

"We had a thing at the, you know. . ." He trails off then lowered his voice to a whisper, "underground fighting club thing yesterday."

"And?"

"I haven't seen him," Zale says, a hint of concern in his tone. That's when I take a good look at him, he looks like he hasn't slept all night. Maybe he didn't. I mean, Zale is a worrier. However he might be, he really cares about the people that he loves. Nick's obviously one of them. "He was supposed to come but he didn't. He never misses a fight. In the rare cases he does, he always informs me first."

It wouldn't be surprising if he spent all night trying to reach him. I think Nick always told him when he'd disappear for days, that's why Zale never looked worried then. But now, he does look like it and it's really concerning.

"He's not answering his phone either?"

"No," Zale sighs as he brings a hand to his head, running his fingers through his locks. His hair is messy, his entire self is disheveled. That's so not him. He is never a mess when he's not drunk. It's broad daylight, he should be in his tattoo parlor, working but instead he's here, asking for a drink. "I'm worried." I voice out my thought.

I can tell, genius. I push that voice away. It's not the time for sarcastic remarks. "Drinking's not gonna help," while I hate to say that (as a bartender and club owner), it's true. "Did Ryver try reaching him?"

Ryver knows about whatever the hell Nick has going on, he's probably his confidant at this point. If Nick's gone somewhere to do his usual business, I'm sure Ryver knows about it. If he doesn't, only then would it be a matter of concern.

"He has," Zale mutters. "Nick's not answering his phone, nor replying to texts. He usually does." He adds, "And really damn fast too. Rhys has tried as well and he didn't receive a response either."

I place my palms flat against the counter then shift my body weight onto them. This is not good. Maybe Carter's heard from him. But the chances that Carter did when Rhys, Ryver and Zale didn't are zero to none.

"Why don't you try?" Zale questions, a brow raised as he stares at me.

"You think that if he hasn't answered your calls, he'd answer mine?" I ask, a small scoff getting past my lips. Maybe he will. But that's called being delusional when it's incredibly clear that something has happened to him. "That's highly unlikely."

"I know," Zale sighs. "But still, it wouldn't hurt to try. Come on."

"Fine." I suppose he's right. There's no harm in trying, I guess. Zale shoots me a small smile as I take my phone out of my pocket and make the call. Nick's phone rings and rings and rings but he doesn't answer. Soon enough, I'm at his voicemail.

I bite my lower lip, shaking my head slightly at Zale and watch as his features contort into one of a mixture of disappointment and defeat. "Fuck," he groans. "Something is definitely wrong."

"Yeah, no shit." My remark results in me receiving a small glare from Zale. I shoot him an apologetic look. "Maybe we should ask Nat's dad to track his phone's location." i suggest dumbly. "I mean, assuming it's with him."

"Oh, it is." Zale confirms, "he never goes anywhere without his phone."

"I highly doubt tracking Nick's phone or his anything, really, would be possible." A familiar voice suddenly fills my ears making me snap my head in the direction it was coming from only to find Ryver leaning against the counter a couple of feet beside Zale. I didn't see him coming. He flashes me a smile then nods in greeting, "pretty girl."

Before I can reply, Zale groans. "What the hell are you doing here? You're supposed to be working."

"I closed it," Ryver announces nonchalantly. Noticing Zale's frustrated and annoyed expression, he raises his hands to his sides in a surrendering motion. "Don't be mad. I can't be working when I'm worried about Nick. We have to figure out where the hell he is."

Zale cocks his head to the side while I watch the two of them intently. "And pray tell, how are we going to do that?"

"Well. . ." Ryver begins. "Like I said, it is not possible to track ant of Nick's shit. Motherfucker is too skilled for that. No police dude or whatever will be able to do that."

"Ave could probably do that," Zale suggests, his voice suddenly containing amusement as he looks at me. "Can't you? You're the best hacker I know. You've hacked into shit that is practically impossible to hack into. Nick's phone is going to be child's play."

"I appreciate the faith you have in me but I don't think I-"

Ryver abruptly cuts me off. "No. You can totally do that."

"You just said it's practically impossible," I remind him, confused as to why he sounds so sure I'll be able to do it. While I'm great at hacking, I'm certain Nick's better. He comes off as 'good at everything'.

"I did," Ryver says, rolling his lower lip in between his teeth. "But it's you."

"That's supposed to mean something?"

"Yes!" He shouts in exasperation, taking me aback. He looks like he knows something I don't. It's not the time to question that right now. "Yes, it is supposed to mean something. You can do it, pretty girl. Even if it's Nick's phone."

"And then what?" I ask because I have no idea what they plan on doing once we find out where he is. "What are we going to do?"

"If he's in some sort of danger, we'll go kick ass." Ryver lets out as if it's the easiest and most obvious thing to do. "If he isn't, we'll go kick his ass for worrying all of us for nothing. We'll⎯ I'll know whether he's in danger or not based on wherever the fuck he is, trust me."

"It's worth a try," Zale mumbles, looking at me.

I sigh. "Fine," I turn to grab my things, "let's go to my house. I'll need my laptop." The best thing when you're your own boss is that you can leave whenever you feel like it and nobody can say shit. I love that. I made sure to tell someone to close the place on time and all, of course. 

"Imagine us saving that motherfucker's ass," Ryver says, grinning as we head towards the door together. "His ego will be blown."

"Assuming he's in danger," Zale adds and I can't help that one nagging thought from coming forward in my head. Or assuming he's still alive.

No. That is not the case. It can't happen. It just can't.