What I wouldn’t give to see the temper in him all over his pretty face. I bet he’d look beautiful spitting and hissing and trying to kill me.
“That I can’t do,” I said and shrugged. He wasnotgetting that information from me. “I guess we’re at an impasse, Detective?” I said when it was clear we were going to be sitting and staring at each other.
I could see him thinking, weighing his next move. He wasn’t rattled, wasn’t posturing—he was processing, calculating. That kind of composure intrigued me. I’d seen men break under less, men fold the moment control slipped. But this one? He was built differently. Watching him think was like watching a blade being sharpened—quiet, focused, dangerous. And the stillness in him made me want to test how far it could go before it cut back.
Yep. Delicious.
FIVE
Levi
I cataloged Doc.The problem was how automatic it felt, as if my brain had decided he mattered before I’d had a say in it.
Dark hair, dark eyes. Jeans, a T-shirt, a gun in a holster under a thin jacket, a knife hidden somewhere close, and a bulge at his sleeve that said there was more steel on him than he let show. The footage from the warehouse hadn’t done him justice. Doc, as everyone called him—real name unknown—had the kind of beauty that made my stomach drop before my brain caught up. His hair fell in an untidy sweep that flirted with a curl at the ends, soft enough to look touchable. His mouth was wrong on a man like him—unsettlingly beautiful—full lower lip, thin upper, a contradiction that made me stare, although I shouldn’t. His nose was straight, and a thin scar cut through his right eyebrow, giving his expression a permanent, dangerous hitch. And his dark gaze was fixed on me.
He was calm, dangerous, and sure of who he was, and the fact that I noticed—really noticed—set my teeth on edge.
Enzo had called Doc an asshole, then grudgingly admitted he respected him for saving Robbie’s life. Jamie flicked his lighter at the mention of his name, that smallclicksounding like athreat all on its own. Rio stayed silent—too silent—his jaw tight, muttering about owing Doc a favor and warning of some hell he assumed Doc would visit on Redcars. Robbie was grateful, he said, but still squirming over something the two of them had discussed about sex, although he’d brightened when he said the talk had gotten Enzo’s head out of his ass. Lyric claimed he’d been half-dead when Doc had helped him and didn’t remember a thing about the man.
The men of Redcars knew nothing that could help.
And me? I was left staring at scraps. No answers, no data from the Cave, just fragments from those who’d seen the man and still couldn’t agree on who the hell Doc really was or why he did what he did.
All the Cave knew—all I knew—was that Rio’s footage had him with Rourke, hands on the man while he was bleeding out, calm as hell. That, tied to his back-alley doctor routine, screamed criminal. It wasn’t proof, but it was enough to make every instinct I had light up like a warning flare.
The coroner suggested the other bodies went back years, but Doc couldn’t be more than thirty. Had he and his cleanup team used an old dumping ground he was aware of? What did he know about the other remains? What was his connection to the MC? Or the cartel?
He looked too damn young to be a doctor—too composed, too precise, like someone who’d learned to control himself long before he should have needed to. I wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or fear that had me watching Doc so closely. His stillness didn’t make sense. He talked about Red, and his hands never shook, but this man wasn’t normal. The way he spoke, the precision, that faint edge of amusement—it wasn’tright.
He could easily give us the names of his cleaners and walk out of this whole mess clean, but he didn’t. Not a hint, not a crumb. He was hiding someone and protecting something, orwaiting for us to look in the wrong direction while he handled the real problem elsewhere.
“So, as much fun as this has been, Detective Rosen, I have things to do,” He collected his bag and yanked the door open, to be met by the brick wall that was Rio, backed up by a snarling Enzo, and behind them both, Robbie peering around the two bigger men.
Doc sighed. He reached under his sleeve with a smooth, practiced motion and let his hand fall open, revealing a hypodermic tucked there. “I’ve got a fast-acting sedative,” he said, voice flat as he stared at Rio. “It’ll take even your huge ass down, Villareal. And as for you, Enzo,”—he turned his focus to the big man—“in less time than you can blink, you’ll be cradling Robbie’s cold body on the ground.”
Enzo’s growl rumbled up from his chest, low and dangerous, and he took a hard step forward, shoulders bunched, eyes locked on Doc as if he were about to tear him apart. Rio was rigid, every muscle tightening.
“So much as breathe near Robbie, and I’ll end you right here,” Enzo snapped, stepping closer with a crowbar, scraping the wall, crowding Rio, fists clenched.
I pushed into the space between Doc and them with a shoulder and a look that said we weren’t starting a brawl, and no one was dying or getting sedated on my watch. Enzo would killanyonewho came anywhere near Robbie, and Rio would back him up.
Thank fuck Jamie wasn’t here, otherwise Doc would’ve been a human torch.
“Stand down,” I barked. “Not here.”
Enzo glared past me, jaw tight, burning with fury. Doc didn’t flinch, the syringe still steady in his palm.
“Jamie is hacking everything to pin this fucker down,” Enzo snarled. “He won’t have the upper hand for long.” Then he stared at Doc. “I’ll tear you apart.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Doc said. “Robbie will always be your weak spot.”
Enzo narrowed his gaze. “Nah, Doc, he’s the one who makes me strong.”
Doc considered Enzo carefully, and I was there to stop whatever happened next—no one got near Robbie, or threatened Robbie, without Enzo losing his shit. Then the tension was thick, but Doc huffed a laugh as he flicked his wrist, a casual motion that exposed the needle to closer scrutiny, and held his wrist close to my face, his dark gaze fixed solely on me.
I’d moved before any of the others could. Not for bravado—because moving was what I did—but to put myself between that needle and the three people who weren’t supposed to be in whatever the fuck standoff this was. I nudged the door shut with my shoulder, the metal thunking into place, sealing the room from the others so it was just Doc and me. He didn’t lower his hand, and I fought the instinct to point my gun at him. I kept my hands where they’d be helpful—one near my holster, the other free to close the distance in an instant.
“Give me the names of your cleaners, and I’ll let you go for now.”
