Angelique shrugged as she walked inside, sidestepping all the shit in a way that told me she was used to it. “I don’t really have much. My brother sold everything to pay the rent.” I bit my tongue to keep from retorting that it was more likely he sold everything to pay his bookie and dealer.
We went to the bedroom, and she grabbed the bag and started filling it with her things. While she folded up some clean clothes from the closet, I stepped into the hallway, staying where I could see her, but she wouldn’t hear me. I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and hit one of my speed dials contacts.
It rang twice before Knox picked up. “Saint. I was just about to call you.”
“Whatever it is, it can wait,” I growled. “I need your help.”
“Shut the fuck up for a minute and listen, man. My information more than likely applies to your request.”
I grunted in response.
“I did some digging into the situation with Sam. Turns out my guy was right. Sam was jumped by a bunch of thugs who work for Benton. I talked to some sources, and the word is that Butler is in deep with the bookie, as well as Marlan Leek.”
“Son of a bitch,” I growled. Marlan was the lowest of the low. He had a hand in everything from drugs to human trafficking.
“There’s no way to confirm it one hundred percent, but I’d stake my reputation on the fact that Sam was taken out so that Vince could win the purse.”
“But he lost,” I murmured.
“Right,” Knox agreed. “He’s on the run.”
A sinister smile crept onto my face at Knox’s smug tone. “You know where he is, don’t you?”
“I’m insulted you had to ask.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure your fragile ego can handle it. Now send me the fucker’s location.”
“I’ll text it to you.”
“Thanks.”
I hung up and immediately shot off a text to a friend of mine. My phone dinged with the message from Knox just as Angelique exited the bedroom. Curling my arm around her, I kissed her head as I tucked my phone back into my pocket. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
She nodded and leaned into my side as we made our way back to the car. On the way home, my phone chirped with a text alert, but I waited until I’d parked in my driveway to look at the message. My friend had come through. I forwarded him the information he needed and a time to meet.
Angelique had fallen asleep on the drive home even though it had been less than a half hour. She’d already been tired yesterday before I wore her out, so I hoped she’d continue napping while I transferred her to our bed. Luck was on my side because she didn’t even stir, other than to mumble my name as she curled up to my pillow. I was so tempted to crawl in beside her, but I wouldn’t truly be able to relax until this was done.
Writing her a note and then sending a text to her phone to make sure she saw it, I instructed her to rest, then unpack and explore the house. I added a winky face before suggesting she snoop all she wanted. Then I told her that if she stepped one foot out of the house unprotected, I would spank her ass raw.
I changed into an old pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt that should probably have been thrown out long before now. No sense in ruining perfectly good clothes with blood. After giving my girl one last kiss on her forehead, I grabbed the keys to my Harley and locked the house up tight.
An hour later, I drove my bike into the parking lot of a rent-by-the-hour motel. It was mostly empty, with the exception of a few other bikes and a couple of trucks. When I parked and shut off my engine, the drivers of those vehicles headed my way.
I held my hand out to a beefy guy with a buzz cut and dog tags hanging over his white tank. “Bik,” I greeted him. “How’s Sam?”
“He’s a stubborn motherfucker, as usual. Won’t do what the doctor tells him, but he’s on the mend.”
“Glad to hear it.” Sam and Bick had been together for five years and were engaged to be married in the summer. I figured if anyone had a right to be here as much as me, it was Bik.
The rest of the small group were other fighters. Friends of mine and Sam’s, most of them had trained with and had their asses kicked by me. There was a running bet to see who could best me, but so far, no one had won, and it was usually something we ribbed each other about. However, the mood tonight was dark and intense. We were here to right some wrongs.
“Room twenty-seven,” I murmured, then I pivoted and prowled in the direction of my prey.
After tossing the bloody clothes into the motel room trash, I then washed my hands and pulled on the spare clothes I’d brought with me. I exited the room and walked toward the group of men who’d helped me mete out a fitting punishment for Vince Butler.
“Should we take him to a hospital?” one of the guys asked, his tone dripping with disgust.
I shook my head as I stepped over the beaten and bloodied rat sniveling on the floor, begging for help. “Leave him. Just like they left Sam. Somebody will come along eventually.” I stopped beside Vince and bent over to look him in the eye that wasn’t quite swollen shut yet. “I suggest you get the fuck out of Dodge. If I can find you, so can Benton and Leek.”
Vince cried and begged for help, but I ignored his pleas. “And Butler”—my tone hardened to steel—”if you ever so much mutter Angelique’s name ever again—and trust me, I’ll know—I will return to finish the job. Got it?”
He glared at me and muttered, “Fuck you, Saint.”
“Not the answer I’m looking for,” I sighed. Then I put my boot on his groin, making him scream in pain. “Got it?”
“Shit! Yes, I got it,” he cried as he curled into the fetal position.
“Good.” I turned to face my friends and gave them a lift of my chin in thanks. “Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
With that taken care of, I breathed a little easier with every mile that took me closer to my forever.
10
Angelique
Waking up alone in Saint’s house should’ve freaked me out, but the note and text he’d left had soothed any nerves I’d had about him not coming back. After unpacking my meager belongings, I explored the house, snooping in all of its nooks and crannies. I liked that he didn’t feel as though he needed to hide anything from me, and I felt a surge of relief when I didn’t find a single hint of another woman in his home. All of the colors, furniture, and decorations were ultra-masculine, just like him.
I was about ten minutes into a recently released action movie, comfortably settled into one of the reclining seats in his home theater, when Saint returned. I paused the film and jiggled the bowl of popcorn in his direction as he dropped into the seat next to me. “Want me to restart this at the beginning so you can watch the whole thing with me? I haven’t been watching long.”
“Sure,” he agreed before taking the remote from my hand and setting it on the armrest between us. “But first, I have something I need to tell you.”
I braced myself, expecting bad news based on his tone and serious expression. My fear must’ve shown on my face because he took the bowl of popcorn from me, set it on the chair next to him, and lifted me out of my seat and onto his lap. Wrapped up in his embrace, I felt safer as I asked, “Where were you? What happened?”