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And I can’t, for the life of me, pull away.

“Thank you,” he whispers, his voice so earnest that it makes my chest ache all over again and his arms tighten around me, holding me closer. Tears sting my eyes and I nod despite the fact that I’m not sure what he’s thanking me for. He should be angry with me right now, pissed that I kept this from him for so long and stopped him from experiencing this for six long months. Any other man would be raging against me right now, not thanking me. It doesn’t make any goddamn sense but if he’s willing to let go of the past and my mistakes then I can stop being such a heinous bitch to the man. He doesn’t deserve that. Besides, if the two of us are going to come together to raise this baby, we have to be able to build, at least, a friendship so we don’t spend the next eighteen years making each other absolutely miserable.

Chapter Ten

Luca

“What that mouth do, baby?” some idiot who called into Izzy’s radio show asks and I snort out a laugh as I lean back in my seat and turn up the volume.

“Oh, you sweet fool,” she fires back, a condescending tone to her voice that says she’s about to rip this guy to shreds. I cross my arms over my chest and grit my teeth, remembering the way she spoke to me outside of the restaurant three nights ago. “You couldn’t handle it.”

“Yeah? That sounds hot as fuck. Tell me more.”

She laughs. “If you insist…”

“Fuck yeah, I do.”

“Okay, well, this mouth is also particularly skilled at putting little fuck boys like you back in their place when they step out of line. See, you seem like the type of guy who only says sexual based shit to women because if you tried to hold a legitimate conversation with them, they would realize how fucking stupid you were and drop you like the nothing you are. And let’s say, for shits and giggles, that you did manage to convince some poor woman into taking you home, you strike me as the type of guy that would flop on top of her like a dying fish with your semi-limp tootsie roll of a cock for a solid forty-five seconds before you rolled over and told her how good it was for you.”

“Bitch,” the guy bites out and I bite back a laugh. I’ve recently been on the receiving end of Izzy’s sharp tongue so I feel for the guy but at the same time, it’s damn funny.

“Oh, and let’s be clear about one more thing, baby, it would be forty-five seconds so horrendous for her that for just a brief second, she would wonder if she’s actually been into women this whole time and didn’t know it. The experience of fucking you would almost make her start playing for the other team and drive sales up at sex stores in the area at least twenty percent because that poor girl is swearing off men for a while after having your disappointing dick inside of her.”

“Listen up, you c…”

“And we’ve got time for one more caller,” Izzy’s co-host says, cutting off the idiot and I shake my head as I turn the radio down and look out over the parking lot as the show plays in the background. Grabbing the tracker out of the passenger seat, I turn it over in my hand as I glance up at the security guard, open the car door, and get out. I parked on the side of the building to stay out of sight and I’ve just been sitting here, watching, for the past three hours. It’s a good thing I did, too, since Izzy showed up in a truck I’ve never seen before with a new bodyguard in tow and this entire night would have been a waste of time.

As I creep along the side of the building, the memory of Izzy berating me out on the sidewalk comes back to me and I clench my jaw. My vision tunnels and there is a pounding in my ears as her words ring in my head. I slam my fist into the side of the brick building and the stone bites into my skin, calming me slightly as I near the end of the building and peek around the corner. The security guard stands in front of the door, his arms crossed as he scans the property, and I stay in the shadows, waiting for my time to strike. Since I’ve been here, the guard has taken a smoke break every thirty minutes and he’s due for another one any second now, giving me the perfect opportunity to sneak across the lot and stick the tracker to the truck Izzy showed up in. Gio and I found her house pretty easily Friday night but she wasn’t there and she hasn’t been back since so we need to figure out where the hell she is staying so we can shut her up for good.

The thought drags a humorless laugh out of me and I shake my head. Growing up, it was me, Mama, and my four brothers and sisters all crammed into a two-bedroom apartment in one of the most rundown buildings in the area. To say we were poor would be an understatement. When I was twelve, I started hustling - not because I wanted to but because I needed to - in order to survive but I learned to love the rush and the element of danger involved. Eventually, hustling led to doing other things, things that were less fun but just as important to keep breathing. I don’t relish beating someone to a pulp when they don’t pay or killing someone to send a message but getting rid of Izzy will be a pleasure for me. No one speaks to me the way she did and it’s a lesson she’s going to have to learn the hard way.

“Come on, motherfucker,” I hiss, peeking out from behind the corner of the building. The security guard checks his watch and scans the parking lot in front of him again before ducking around the other side of the building for one of his unsanctioned smoke breaks.

Perfect timing.

I smile as I slip out from the side of the building and race across the parking lot as quietly as I can with the tracker in my hand. Peeking at my own watch, I whisper a curse and pick up the pace. Izzy’s show is ending just about now so I need to get this thing in place and get back to my car before anyone sees me. When I get to the truck, I crouch down near the front tire and reach inside the wheel well, sticking the tracker where it won’t be detected before I stand up and race back to the other side of the building. Once I’m safely hidden, I peek around the corner again. The security guard steps back into place in front of the door, hooking his thumbs into his belt and squaring his shoulders like he’s been the perfect little doggie all night long.

Yeah, right.

Thunder rumbles overhead just as the door opens and Izzy steps out with the same man as before right on her heels. He wraps an arm around her waist as he guides her across the parking lot, scanning the surrounding area and I slink back a little, remaining hidden in the shadows as they reach the truck. The man opens the passenger door for Izzy and as she climbs in, he scans the lot again, ever vigilant. He turns and I whisper a curse. The cut on his shoulders, bearing the patch of the local MC is a goddamn problem but hopefully, one that won’t cause me too many issues because I need to get this cleared up quickly. Besides the fact that she acted like such a heinous bitch to me, she also saw everything that happened in that alley and we can’t have her talking about what went down that night.

At least more than she already has.

God, that was such a clusterfuck. Once the guys out on the sidewalk called an ambulance for Izzy, we knew we had to get out of there quickly and we ended up shoving the body in the trunk of Gio’s car and dumping it out in the swamp. It was sloppy as hell and not how we like to do things but we didn’t have much of a choice with police on the way. And then she had to go and talk to the cops at the goddamn hospital. Gio already called our contact at the police station and had the report destroyed so that’s taken care of which just leaves Izzy - our little loose end. Not going to lie, there is a part of me that wants to just wrap this up as soon as we can and be done with it but then I think about the way she spoke to me, the way she disrespected me, and I know that won’t do. Izzy needs to be taught some fucking manners before she meets her end and I have so many wonderful ideas for how we can accomplish that. I smile as they pull the truck out of the parking lot and as soon as they are out of sight, I head back to my car and slip behind the wheel. Grabbing the tablet out of the back, I bring up the app for the tracker and watch as the little red dot travels down the street.

“I love it when a plan comes together.”

Tossing the tablet into the passenger seat, I pull out onto the street and turn down the same street they did, glancing over to keep an eye on their marker on the screen as I follow them. My mind wanders, laying out all of the ways Izzy could meet her end in front of me like a five-course meal, each option enticing in its own way. Her words from the other night come back to me and I smile. She said she wasn’t missing much when I mentioned that we never slept together and I’m tempted to show her the error of her ways before I kill her, show her what kind of man I really am. I scoff. She’d probably fucking love that. Torture is looking like a pretty good option, too. Christ knows she needs to be humbled and I would love to slice up her pretty skin but there are other options to consider, too. I once knew a guy who boiled body parts of his victims and it was… something to see. Fuck, I can still hear the way they screamed if I dwell on the thought too much. There was also a guy who would spend hours choking his victims just until they passed out and each time, they were sure they were going to die only to wake up a few seconds later and do it all over again. I only saw it done once but it was intense as hell and turned me the fuck on. I also can’t forget about the classics and my mind drifts to just how many blows to her tight little body with a pipe it would take before Izzy realized the error of her ways. The problem is that all of my options sound so damn appealing, except for the boiling. I can’t listen to that shit again but maybe I’ll mix the other three into a special little cocktail just for Izzy. My cock strains against my jeans as I think about strapping her down to a table and fucking her sweet little cunt while I cut and choke her. That could go on for hours or days until she’s begging me to just kill her, pleading with me to end it once and for all.

God, that’s perfect.

I can’t wipe the smile off of my face, imagining the way it’ll sound when she’s finally been put in her place and she is imploring me to stop her suffering as my eyes roll back in my head. Oh, yeah, I’ll be jacking off to that thought tonight. Glancing over in the passenger seat, I notice that the dot has stopped moving and I pull over to the side of the road before grabbing the tablet.

“Shit.”

I should have known as soon as I saw the Bayou Devils MC patch on that bastard’s back that they’ve got her on their compound, tucked safely away behind a seven-foot-high wall, and this job just got a hell of a lot more complicated. But nothing is going to stand in my way, especially not a bunch of pussy ass bikers who don’t even realize the shit they stepped into when they agreed to protect that little bitch and her smart fucking mouth.

Chapter Eleven