“Make sure you take enough out of petty cash to pay for it,” I ordered.
“I’ve got it covered,” he assured me, shaking his head. “That’s one of the main things I miss about England. No prescription costs more than ten quid. And if you’re elderly or a kid or have a lifelong condition like epilepsy that can’t be cured, you don’t pay jack shit.”
I took a swig of coffee. “Stop your fuckin’ whinin’. Your health insurance doesn’t come outtayourpocket.”
He lifted one eyebrow. “You sayI’mwhinin’. Thirty minutes ago, you beat the fuck outta Rodeo ’cause you were in such a damned snit over Aislynn ghostin’ you. Bet you feel like an even bigger bellend now Thug’s told you she saved your ass with Hank.”
“Bellend,” Thug chuckled under his breath. “You Brits have the best insults.” He topped up his coffee, grinning and shaking his head as he passed the pot to Boot.
“Prez,” a voice called.
I craned my neck to see Wiki heading toward us, his iPad in hand.
He may have been the biggest damned geek you ever met, but he still looked like Henry fucking Cavill with glasses. He had a Clark Kent thing going on, except he was way more shredded.
“Got a hit on your woman.” He started tapping on his iPad as he approached, and I felt the buzzing of my cell phone in my pocket. “She’s with Tristan.”
My gut immediately calmed.
I’d thought about going to Tristan’s, but reckoned it was too obvious. Should’ve known she’d hide in plain sight; it’s what I would’ve done. My woman was proving to be more sneaky than I initially thought.
“Smart,” I muttered. pulling my phone out of my pocket and checking the screenshot of the WhatsApp message that had been sent to Aislynn’s phone.
Mammy: Bring Tristan with you for Sunday lunch. Tell him I’m making sticky toffee pudding and custard.
My knuckles were bustedup and crusty with blood, and my head pounded from lack of sleep and worry about my girl, but as I scrolled through the screenshot again, I felt lighter.
For two days, I’d paced the compound like a caged tiger, snarling at the brothers and raining my anger down on anyone who looked at me the wrong way, but now, my chest loosened, and for the first time since I threw Aislynn out, I could breathe easy.
It had taken me half-killing one of my brethren just to calm my shit enough to sit down and talk to Boot like a normal man. If I carried on acting the way I was, I’d have no brothers left, and it made me realize that I needed to smooth things over with Aislynn. After days of nothing, I had something to go on at last, so I just had to plan my next move.
I wanted myDubheasaback, and going in like a bull in a china shop wasn’t the way to deal. Still, she needed to know that disappearing on me wasn’t a good move. I’d let Aislynn think she had the upper hand for now, and lull her into a false sense of security, then I’d play a little game of cat and mouse, and strike when she least expected.
It was about time my woman understood something.
She could run, but she couldn’t hide forever.
CHAPTER 9
AISLYNN
I’d been holed up in Tristan’s apartment for days, but not to hide per se, but after I argued with Pagan, I just needed some space to think.
It wasn’t that I thought for one second that he’d come after me, fall at my feet, and beg for forgiveness; in fact, he made it pretty clear he wanted me gone, and that was okay because I wanted to be gone too. But I was also hurt by the things he did and said to me. One minute, he was telling me he wanted a future, and the next, he threw me out without even talking it through.
Pagan scared me, but he also excited me. My feelings were caught in a juxtaposition because I knew I shouldn’t want him, but walking away from him was as impossible as breathing underwater.
The only person I knew who would listen and not judge was one of my best friends, Tristan. Before I knew it, I was sitting in my car outside his salon, looking up at the windows in his apartment above the shop, wondering what the fuck I was going to do.
The second his eyes landed on my face, still blotched and pink, he stepped aside and said, “Go to the bathroom and wash your face. I’ll open the wine.”
Ten minutes later, I was halfway through my first glass of Pinot while I unloaded everything from meeting Pagan at the party to being held by the throat while he snarled at me to get the fuck out of his club.
To my complete and utter shock, Tristan’s eyes narrowed on me, and then his mouth curved into a knowing smile. His eyes slid over my neck, and he said, “I can’t see any marks or bruises.”
My gaze lifted to Tristan’s, and I murmured, “He didn’t hurt me. I don’t think he ever would—at least not physically.”
“Hmm,” he hummed thoughtfully. “And your little spanking session?”
