“He sent the message a few minutes ago. He’s in town, he’s got a broken nose, compliments of yours truly, and he’s running hot.”
“Do you have an address on this asshole?”
“He’s been using an apartment on Kellner. Unsurprisingly, it’s called Kellner Commons. His apartment number is 301. He drives a dark blue Ram truck. If he’s going to the main precinct, there’s two routes that lead there. Route 9, and the other that cuts through Mercer Overpass. He’s likely to take the second in order to avoid morning traffic.”
“Slate and I can cover those.”
“Take Onyx too. I don’t want outsiders involved, only family on this one.”
“Well, that sounds ominous. Are you coming?”
“I’ll meet you there. Gimme ten minutes.”
I hang up, go to my kitchenette, and make two cups of coffee using pods. I set Nova’s on the nightstand and stand anxiously by the window, sipping mine. She comes out of the bathroom in clean clothes with damp hair and bare feet. She sits on the bed and pulls on her socks and shoes.
I jerk my chin towards the nightstand. “I made you a cup of coffee.”
She reaches for it and asks before taking a drink, “What are you up to this morning? Are you going to look for Devon?”
“I’m sure you’ve already guessed that I am. The two of us need to have a little talk, one that communicates what a bad idea filing that police report is.”
When she frowns, I clarify, “I’m not gonna kill him. I’m gonna make it very clear that escalating this situation is just gonna cause more trouble, since he’s not only harassing you but is stupid enough to do it by text, which is considered evidence in a court of law. Then I’m gonna suggest that leaving town might be the best way to avoid more run-ins with me.”
She wraps both hands around her coffee and looks at me over the rim. “He doesn’t work here. His family is from Arbor County. I don’t know why he’s hanging around unless it’s in order to annoy me. Do you think he’ll listen to the voice of reason?”
I assure her, “I can be very persuasive when I have to be.”
“Just don’t do anything they can charge you with. He’s not worth it.” Nova closes the distance between us and gives me a hug. This wonderful woman knows who she married. Therefore, she doesn’t expect me to be anything other than what I am.
When we break apart, she murmurs, “No matter what happens out there today, please be careful. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
Giving her an indulgent smile, I murmur, “I’ve dealt with men like Devon a lot in my life. I know how to handle myself. Plus, my brothers are coming along for the ride.”
I give her one hard kiss before forcing myself to turn and walk away. The quicker I deal with this stupid fucker, the quicker I can come back to her.
Chapter 12
Mica
Icome out of the clubhouse intent upon dealing with Devon once and for all. I jump on my bike and take off, thinking about the lengths I will go to in order to protect the woman I love from this degenerate asshole. My blood boils to think of all the trauma his stalking has caused her during an already difficult and grief-stricken period of her life.
While in transit, I get two messages, one from Slate, telling me they’ve got Devon on the Mercer overpass, the other from Nova, telling me that someone slashed her car tires. By the time I catch up with my brothers, Jasper’s right behind me, and I’m ready to kill the fucker. Devon’s truck is pulled to the shoulder of the service road behind the overpass, with Slate’s bike blocking the front and Onyx’s blocking the rear. Devon is outside the truck, frowning at them.
Devon glares at me. “What the fuck do you want with me now? You had your fun yesterday. Leave me the fuck alone.”
I stalk right up to him and punch him in the stomach so hard he doubles over. I bring my knee up hard into his face, causing him to fall back on his ass. Squatting down, I grab the front of his shirt and pull him up to a sitting position.
“The problem is you didn’t learn your lesson yesterday.”
“You broke my damn nose,” he flings back, wiping the blood from his busted lip.
“I did,” I agree. “You were harassing my wife.”
Jasper comes up beside me. Lowering his voice, he says, “Not here. We need to take him somewhere more private.”
Devon immediately starts protesting, but Slate zip-ties his wrists and feet and then puts him in the passenger side of the truck and adds more zip ties to secure his wrists and feet to the truck seat. I don’t even pay attention to what he’s doing there because I get busy working with Jasper and Onyx to get Slate’s bike secured in the back of Devon’s truck.
We end up at a warehouse off the Route 9 corridor, an old abandoned dry goods facility that we sometimes use for situations that require privacy. We cut the zip ties and stand around, letting Devon stretch his legs for a few minutes.
