I open the cabinets. “Feels like I do.”
That’s all the answer I can muster because my head is doing a tornado spin. Phillip is here, or coming, and Kevlar is out. I want to call him, but I don’t know if it’ll tip him off or put him in more danger. I need another plan.
But what?
Chapter Eleven
Kevlar
Dealing with my sister after the shit Blood laid on me was not at the top of my list. I didn’t want to take her gun, but she’s gone off the rails since all the shit that went down with Momma Tee kidnapping her and Asher. She’s got some weird complex about the whole thing, and I don’t know what to do for her other than therapy, which she refuses to go to.
As I pull off her street, I notice that black car. The one from the marina tailing me.
Every hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
I can’t get a good look at the driver. The windows are darker than sin, and they’re keeping three car lengths back. I slow to force the gap closed. A test, but they match me just a little smoother than an amateur. I could lose them. Doubt they want a chase out on the main drag in broad daylight. No, they want me to lead them to Lacey. Heather. Whatever her name is.
I’ve got my Glock in my waistband, but Buford might skin me alive if I start a shootout with too many witnesses around. The old fart lets a lot of shit slide, but he can’t overlook everything we do. There’s gotta be a balance.
Only the more I think about this fucker having a claim on my woman and the fact that he’s already shot at me once, the itchier my fingers get for my gun. I can’t afford to do anything stupid. Prez is going to stick his boot in my ass for riding alone with all this shit going on. I was supposed to bring Goose with me to talk to my sister, but he was still in bed, and I didn’t want to dick around all morning waiting on him to get the lead out.
I tap the brakes again, then swing in a hard, fast right, cutting up past a strip mall.
The black sedan makes the same turn, just a half-breath late. No way they’re not tailing me. I loop the block once and they do the same. I turn left and drive right past Buford’s office. The car backs off. I keep going, pulling into the gravel lot behind Saint’s Garage where we store our tows. Poor Boy shakes his head at me as he washes grease from his hands. I park my bike and as I’m climbing off, I see that fucking car pulling around front. I pull my Glock out and lift my chin at Poor Boy. He whistles and I join him, Hash, and Silk.
The four of us are ready, and I know the rest of our guys across the street will make their presence known.
We walk through the garage as the back passenger window rolls down. I recognize the bastard from my girl’s social media account. Her husband.
“You’ve got something that belongs to me.”
I walk out of the garage, Glock tucked by my thigh. The man exits the car, flanked by two goons. He’s got that rich-boy face. Clean-cut, teeth done up Hollywood white, and a fake tan.
I know his type. The spoiled brat type that thinks the whole world owes him a fucking parade.
The sneer on his face says he doesn’t think much of me or the boys at my back. I take my time walking up, tucking the pistol behind my waistband, but making sure he sees it. Wouldn’t want him to get too comfortable.
“You lost, friend?” I call out.
His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t smile. “I’m not your friend,” he snaps. “But you already know that. I’m sure. We can cut the shit, Mr.…?”
I don’t give him a name. “You come all this way to see the sights or just get your rocks off creeping around other people’s turf?”
“Let’s cut the bullshit and skip the formalities.”
“All right, Phillip.” I spit on his name, my voice pure grit and lethal.
His eyes narrow to slits. “I know you’re the reason she hasn’t come home.”
“Funny. She hasn’t mentioned you.”
“You’re not the first asshole she’s made up some story to. I doubt you’ll be the last. My wife suffers from a mental condition. She runs off. Starts a new life. Gets tired and comes running back to me.”
“Then why are you here if she always comes running back?”
“Because this time she forgot her medication. You know what happens then? She’ll fuck anything on two legs just to spite me. Or herself. Or both.” His grin is sleazy and not menacing.
“Maybe she hasn’t come back because this time she found a real man who knows how to dick her down.”
