“His mother happened to be in the clubhouse when all that shit went down. I didn’t know it until I dug a little deeper and looked at her death date. She was there, Grudge was there, and so was the father. We killed his whole family, which would make sense as to why he hates you if you’re part of the Vicious Reapers.”
“Club business is not personal, and they had Dakota,” I grind out.
Ivy snorts. “You and I know that. Maybe even he knows that. But we also know that emotions take over sometimes, and lines get blurred.”
“Well, I don’t know what he wants from me other than to ruin my career, but he can’t have any of it.”
“You think about talking to the chief about this?” Ivy asks.
I could. But fuck that. I’m not a pussy. I’ll deal with this asshole myself. And by dealing with him myself, I’m going to find something else about him. Something life-altering, ruining. That’s what I’m going to do. Because he may hate me, he may want me to lose my job, but he’s the same as me, so fuck that shit.
“I’m not going to. I want to ruin him without being a snitch. Which means I need to figure out how to do that.”
“You’re evil,” Ivy chuckles.
“You’d do the same.”
He grins. “You’re damn fucking right I would. Nobody fucks with me or my family.”
I agree. We finish our beers, and he gives me a little more information on Garcia. Including where he lives, his full name, and date of birth. I feel bad that the guy lost his whole family that day up in Richmond, but also, Grudge had kidnapped and was going to hurt Dakota. He was not a good dude.
I’m not going to feel that bad.
After Ivy leaves, I open the file and begin to comb through the information. There isn’t much there that Ivy didn’t already tell me. Except when I look over a police report that was pulled in Fredericksburg, it causes me to pause.
Wife.
Garcia is married, or at least he was three years ago, when his old lady filed this shit. I can’t imagine the department knows this. She said he hit her, and the next page shows some pictures attached.
He didn’t just hit her. He beat the fuck out of her.
How did he pass the background check?
This is definitely something I could bring to my boss, but I’m not going to. I was serious when I said I wasn’t going to tattle or snitch on him. He wants to start some sort of vendetta or war against me.
It’s cool, but I’ll finish it, and I’ll win.
Nobody threatens me and gets away with it. I don’t care what he’s decided I’ve done to him. The fact that he’s trying to come after my reputation and my career is absolutely fucking asinine. And if he’s going to try and play that way… well, then, let’s play fucking ball, baby.
MILLIE
I’m being truly lazy, rotting on my sofa, and if I’m being honest with myself, I’m licking my wounds. My pride has been drop-kicked across the room, slammed into the wall, and broken into a dozen pieces.
Pulling my throw blanket up higher, I try to get comfortable and cozy, but I fail. I know it has nothing to do with being physically uncomfortable and more to do with feeling off balance on the inside, but I still can’t just sit still.
I throw my blanket off my body and place it next to me on the sofa when there is a knock at the door. My entire body freezes, my spine straightening, and I turn my head, staring at the door as if it’s going to fly open and Dante will be standing in the hallway watching me.
That doesn’t happen.
But a second knock does.
Then I hear a voice call out from the other side, and in an instant, my entire body relaxes. I know who it is, and I knew she was coming, but I still didn’t really expect it. Jumping to my feet, I shuffle forward until I’m at the door.
Pinching one eye closed, I look through the peephole just to be sure that I wasn’t hearing things. I didn’t. There she is in all her Vegas flash and gaudy glory. I flip the dead bolt over and turn the knob, tugging the door open so we’re face to face.
I open my mouth to say something, but the words don’t come out, mainly because she moves right past me, a suitcase rolling behind her as she does. Closing and locking the door behind her, I turn to face her.
Heidi is standing in the middle of my living room. She’s flown across the country, and she’s standing right here in front of me. I could burst into tears at this moment. Big, fat, wet tears. But I don’t, because I promised I wouldn’t be crying anymore, but I could, very easily.
