AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It’s Lance, the young enforcer, the man who’s proved himself several times and even came to the meet with Kelly’s father who is sitting in a club up in LA with two known Cartel contacts, knocking his glass against theirs and having a whale of a fucking time.
“What do you want to do, boss?” Garrote asks, running a hand absentmindedly across his inked neck.
“Take a few of the men and bring him here,” I say. “Detain him and wait for me to come back and …”
I pause, staring at the security footage, Jack Lance now rising to his feet as three women approach – short skirts, the sort of women who are always throwing themselves pathetically at men with money and influence, the sort of women I’ve never been interested in – start to gesture toward the dance floor.
Lance raises his hands as if to say no, shaking his head. His lips move and I imagine him saying, “No, no, I can’t dance.”
And that’s when I see it, his tattoo, revealed when he lifts his arms and his half-buttoned shirt pulls back.
Jack Lance has a tattoo of a dragon breathing fire, a red tattoo, the same exact tattoo that Kelly described her would-be attacker as having.
I feel my hands trembling and lava like rage moving through me, making me want to find him and wring his neck this moment, just keep twisting until his fucking head comes right off.
“Boss?” Garrote says, leaning back and regarding me coolly. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I’ve claimed a woman,” I tell him. “I’ve claimed Kelly Yeager. And she told me something bad, Garrote, and now I’ve got evidence that not only is this piece of shit betraying us to the Cartel, but he was behind that, too.”
Garrote’s mouth falls open. He looks at me in the way I know from countless jobs done together, a way that tells me he’s worried I’m going to let this rage consume me and go off the handle, incapacitating seven or eight men with my bare hands if I have to.
“Has the plan changed?” he asks.
I let go of the desk, realizing I’m clutching it so hard my knuckles have turned bone white.
“No,” I say, forcing the word out. “Bring him here and put him in the cell. I’ll work out what to do with him later. Hopefully we can arrange for him to be caught by the police. If not …”
I shake my head, not wanting to think about if not scenarios, those alternatives that are only resorted to if the person in question gives us no choice.
“Just get him, Garrote,” I say.
“Course, boss,” he replies, rising to his feet. “I’ll go in quiet and hit him with something. Won’t even know it, the stupid bastard. I can’t believe he’d betray us, after everything we did for him. The way you paid for his mother to have that treatment, boss, you didn’t have to do that, and …”
I shake my head, an image of Lance saying thank you over and over punching into my mind.
“Some men are just ungrateful pricks,” I growl.
“You sure you don’t want to handle this rat tonight?”
I shake my head. “Let him sit in that cell and worry about just what I’m going to do to him. Anyway, I’ve got plans tonight. And they’re very fucking important.”
I ride out to the library and park up near the Exit sign, leaning up against my bike and folding my arms across my leather. I feel the fabric of the suit crinkle beneath, and I’m wearing shoes, not boots, but tonight is not a time to forget that I’m a Bloody Chariot.
As I wait here for Kelly, our agreed meeting point, I watch the sun set over the desert and let my mind drift to Jason. Kelly’s father is not involved with the Cartel.
In a fucked-up, warped sort of way, I am, because I let this rat run rampant through my club for too long before I noticed anything was wrong.
Jason might have done some seriously messed up shit in the past – the thing he did to me perhaps topping the list, even if he wants to pretend otherwise but he’s not a Cartel goon. And that means a lot.
Not that it matters, because the SOB still hates me, if he knew what his daughter and I were going to do tonight.
And that’s not going to stop me.
Nothing will.
She’s mine.
“Am I interrupting?”
I turn at the sound of her voice.
And then my manhood throbs and my lower jaw falls open in one fluid movement.
Kelly stands there in a blue dress, cut just above her knees, long enough to be elegant but short enough to show pale slivers of her thighs that almost drive me carnal right here. Her blonde hair has been straightened and goes down past her shoulders, her eyes framed in striking dark makeup, the rest of her face mostly untouched, making her eyes pop, enhancing her enchanting vivacity.
