The knock on my patrol car window causes me to practically jump out of my skin. I turn my head, and my brows snap together at the sight of Shocker standing in front of me. I touch the car window button, and it rolls down, and before I can ask him what the fuck is going on, he thrusts a paper in front of me.
“I knew I recalled the name Barone,” he announces, “but I didn’t remember Dante. It’s because I knew his father, Adrian.”
“What do you know?” I demand without even looking down at the paper.
I don’t want to waste time reading the damn thing. I want him to tell me. I know it will be faster if he just spits it out.Pressing my lips together, I frown as I wait for him to tell me whatever the fuck it is he knows.
“We knew him because he was someone we dealt with in Vegas. He was the head of a mob there. A boss.”
“Which means his kid is probably in charge now,” I murmur.
“He won’t have a rap sheet,” Shocker continues. “They’re in with the cops there, of course. You think this is why Millie is back in town?”
I bite my bottom lip for a moment before I release it. “The license plates don’t lie. And why the fuck would someone like that be in Thunder Rock? But if he’s looking for Millie, this would be the first stop.”
“They’re dangerous, Piggy.”
“As dangerous as us?” I ask.
He snorts. “Different. I wouldn’t say they’re more dangerous than we are, but what they are is crueler.”
My stomach twists at the word.Crueler. Visions of Millie being hurt fill my mind. I won’t let that happen. Absolutely fucking not.
“I don’t like the sound of that,” I murmur.
“Read over that. It’s what I could dig up on the dad. He’s living in Florida now. Not sure how much help it would be, but at least you’ll have whatever information you need, plus whatever you got from his car.”
“Yeah,” I grunt. Sliding my gaze from the paperwork, I look up at Shocker. “Thanks for this. I appreciate it.”
I shift in my seat. I wish I weren’t at work right now. Taking my cell phone off my passenger seat, I begin to search. There isn’t much to be found, just phone numbers and addresses, which I suspected, but I had to try.
These Barones don’t even own property. Every address they’ve lived at is not owner-occupied. I scrub my palm down myface and clear my throat. They don’t own a single thing that I can find.
A business likely owns their homes, but which one? I’m sure it’s a tax thing, but as I search, I can’t find any businesses with their names attached. It’s suspicious. But there’s nothing to be found, not without digging a bit farther into their shit, something I’m pretty sure they would have flagged and know exactly who and why I’m looking.
I finish my shift even if my head is not in the game at all. Thankfully, it’s a slow night, so I don’t have to worry too much. Driving home, I strip out of uniform and take a shower, but I know by the end of my shower, I won’t be able to sleep.
I’m amped.
Dressing in jeans, boots, a T-shirt, and my cut, I head out the door and climb on the back of my bike. I have no business riding where I’m riding, but I’m still going. I make great fucking time, and when I pull up to her building, I find a visitor spot and park my bike.
I make my way toward the lobby of her building. I glance around but don’t see anyone at the front desk, which is fucking terrible security. The lobby door should have been locked, too.
I’m not sure what the fuck is going on, but what I do know is she pays a fucking boatload in rent for this place, and it’s not secure in the goddamn slightest. Walking over to the elevator bank, I touch the button and wait for the doors to open.
Once the bell rings and the doors open, I step inside and press the button for her floor. A few moments later, the doors open and I find myself standing directly in front of her apartment. Another security issue.
I rap my knuckles against the door. I know she hasn’t been home long. The club only closed a few hours ago. I knock again before I hear her shuffling on the other side of the door, then I hear her gasp.
My lips curve up into a grin. “I heard you, Mill,” I call out.
The door slowly opens, and there, standing in front of me, is the goddamn object of my obsession. I told myself that this was going to be a visit to talk to her about Barone. But now, seeing her freshly showered, wearing nothing but a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top with no bra, I decide we can discuss Barone later.
Much later.
CHAPTER TWELVE
MILLIE
