Thiago, Rome, and Kingston join us.
“Seven bikes and two cars full. Somebody wants your head.” Thiago points out.
“Keep pressure here,” I direct Axel. He takes my place, applying pressure to Ghost’s arm.
Pulling my piece out, I storm over to the biker that shot Ghost. He’s crawling away from his bike. Using my foot, I kick him over. He’d already removed his helmet. I didn’t recognize the man, but I didn’t expect to. Anybody with half a fucking brain wouldn’t send someone after me that could so easily be traced back to them.
Aiming my gun at his head, I snarl, “Who the fuck sent you?”
The guy coughs up blood. Rome put a bullet in his chest. The man isn’t dead, but he will be soon.
“Fuck….you….” he spits out.
A bullet to the center of his forehead sent him to hell’s doorstep. He would not last long enough to torture the information out of him. Replacing my gun in my holster, I check the biker’s pockets. I find a phone. It’s a flip phone, which lets me know this is a non-traceable disposable phone. I dial the last and only number on the phone. It rings a few times before it’s picked up. However, no one speaks. Only the sound of breathing.
“You missed, muthafucker,” I growl into the silence of the phone.
Immediately it clicks, letting me know they hung up. I doubt there will be anything Maseo can get off this phone, but I still pocket it to give to him.
“You straight?” Kingston asks, walking up behind me.
“Yeah?” I turn to face him.
“He talk?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Then let’s get the fuck out of here.”
I nod as I follow him back to the convoy of cars. I said my goodbyes to the others before Roc took us to the warehouse where Doc was waiting to check on Ghost.
It was near four in the morning when I walked back into my house. I was covered in blood and fucking exhausted. I went into the connected bathroom in my office to shower. I didn’t want Tiffany to wake up and see me.
Ghost took a bullet in the upper arm near his pecs. He’ll be in a sling for a while, but he will survive. I was more pissed that a fucker tried to come for me tonight. It was clear as fucking day I was the target of that attack.
Walking out of the bathroom and back into my office, with a towel around my waist and one in my hand drying my hair, I startled when I spot the person standing in my office.
“Evelyn, is everything alright?”
She’s in a silk black robe. Her face is done up in makeup, and her hair is tucked behind her ear.
“Yes,” she says. “I was up getting something to drink when I noticed you coming in. Is everything alright?” She looks over my bare chest. Her eyes linger on my towel. I shake off the unease.
“Yeah. I’m good. Just showering before I head off to bed.”
I walk over to the sofa in my office where I laid my boxer briefs. I wait for her to leave so I can get dressed and climb into bed behind my wife. However, she doesn’t move.
“You look stressed,” she finally says.
“As I said, I’m good.” I’m trying my best to keep my composure and not disrespect my wife’s mother.
She still makes no move to leave. She looks down at her hands. “One thing about young wives, they never quite know how to read their husbands. My daughter is still young. She has a lot to learn about being a wife to a billionaire.”
I wasn’t sure where the fuck she was going with this. But I was too tired to think straight. I toss the wet towel I was using to dry my hair onto the back of my couch. My head was turned away from her for only a few seconds. When I turn back, Evelyn is standing in front of me.
“I’m really good at helping relieve stress,” she purrs.
My brows pinch as I glare down at her. I watch with a delayed response as she runs her hands down my abs. It takes a second for my brain to register what the actual fuck is going on. When she gets to the band of the towel around my waist, I grab her wrist in a tight grip.
