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Angel let out a shaky breath and did a mental count to ten to catch her bearings. The drugs were messing with her head. She was still detoxing. No telling what that fucking frazil did to her brain. She followed him and gestured to the bottle. “I’ll take a shot. Anything to take the edge off of this misery.”
She half-expected him to give her a ration but instead, pulled out another shot glass and filled it. Angel expertly tossed the shot back and welcomed the burn. Rolling her head on her shoulders, she winced as her muscles protested and her bruises reminded her that she wasn’t entirely healed.
“So how’d you get hooked up with this loser?” he asked, leaning against the counter.
“He didn’t seem like a loser when I met him. Actually, I thought he was different.” She poured herself another shot. “I didn’t realize until it was too late that he was worse than the rest.” God, that was the plain truth. “At first, I thought he was a good guy — a straight and narrow college boy — something like that. He dressed nice and had good manners. Reminded me of someone I might’ve dated in high school.”
“So…what? He turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing?”
“Something like that. I found out that he was a dealer.”
“And you didn’t run then?”
She smirked. “Everyone deals at some point. And besides, he was making good money and he helped out with groceries and the rent so…I wasn’t about to make waves as long as he didn’t get me involved.”
“Honey, if you were shacking up with him — you were involved.”
Angel couldn’t help the scowl because she knew how stupid it all sounded now. She’d been clinging to a fantasy and had rejected the reality anytime it reared its ugly head. Yeah, well, you could say she was paying for that mistake now. “Look, I screwed up. I get it. I don’t need you shoving it in my face like a shit sandwich.”
“Fair enough. So then what? He start knocking you around?”
“Yeah. So I left. But he dragged me back. Said that he had friends in high places that would fuck me up if I tried to run again. I believed him.”
“So what made you leave for good?”
“Self-preservation. The stuff he’s selling on the streets is bad. It’s killing kids. I didn’t want any part of it anymore. I had to get out of there before he killed me. And he will kill me if he finds me. Trust me, I know too much about his operation to live. I’m the most dangerous loose end out there.”
“What’s his name?”
Angel hesitated, not sure if she ought to spill names. But then she pictured Mila and the vile things Benton promised to do to her baby if she failed and she spit out the name like a rotten piece of meat. “Benton. Benton Algiers.”
“Sounds like a pussy.”
“Don’t let the name fool you — he’s dangerous.”
Pryo’s slow smile gave her shivers. “I’m dangerous, too.”
Angel held Pyro’s steady gaze and for a half second, she considered telling Pyro the whole truth. If anyone could save her daughter, it was Pyro. But there was that sliver of doubt that held her tongue. What if something went wrong? What if Pyro failed to protect them like he failed Ashley? She couldn’t take that risk. Not with Mila. Angel pushed away the bowl and met Pyro’s gaze with a small, fatalistic smile as she murmured, “Not dangerous enough.”
***
That he wasn’t expecting. “Just what are you dealing with, sweetheart?”
“If I thought I could tell you, I would. But it’s better for you if I don’t.”
Pyro didn’t think of himself as a hero by any means but knowing that Angel thought she couldn’t count on him was more then his ego could tolerate. Or maybe it wasn’t ego at all. Maybe it was that damn guilt again. But either way he wasn’t going to let Angel get herself deeper into trouble if he could help in someway.
“This guy, Benton, what’s he got on you?”
“I already told you. I know details of his operation. He does business with some really bad people. If he doesn’t kill me, his business associates certainly will.”
“So what if I just gave you enough money so that you could split the state or even the country? I’ve got some stashed and I’m not using it for anything worthwhile.”
She did a double take. “Did you hit the lottery or something?”
“Don’t worry about where I get my money. Just answer the question. How much money do you need?”
There was a moment of hesitation—as if she really wanted to take his offer —but the moment passed and she shook her head. “Don’t worry about giving me your money. I just need a few days to hang out. After that, I’ll be out of your hair. Can you handle that?”
That as the million dollar question. Could he stop his brain from focusing on things that he had no business thinking? So far, not so much. He shifted. “I’m not one for houseguests,” he said grimly, gesturing to his shit apartment. “As you can see…not exactly top-shelf accommodations.”
“That’s fine. I’m not asking you to bring out the fine China. I just need a bed and a few meals while I figure things out.”
He withheld a groan. She wasn’t asking much. Hell, he’d much rather just shove a wad of cash into her hands and push her out the door. The fact that she was turning down the money gave him pause. His intuition had always served him well and right now it was banging like a drum. Whatever she was holding back was big enough to keep her tethered to this town when they both knew the best answer was for her to bail. He fixed her with a hard look. “So you won’t tell me what’s really going on?”
She made a noise of exasperation. “I’ve told you everything I can tell you. Do yourself a favor and stop asking. Trust me, you don’t want to get involved with what I’m messed up with.”
“I don’t doubt that. But here’s the situation: I’m not going to let you get deeper into trouble if I can stop it. I know it doesn’t make up for what happened with your sister but I feel like I should try to at least do something.”
Angel barked an ugly laugh. “You’re right, it doesn’t make up for what happened to Ashley. You can’t even say her name.” The look of disgust on her features scraped at his raw nerves. “She was carrying your child. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
Pain bubbled up his throat and sharpened his voice. “Of course it means something. But I can’t do anything about the past. Trust me, if that were possible it would already be done. Don’t think for a second that I don’t relive that moment everyday of my life.”
“Yeah? Good. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her. You weren’t there when she needed you. You don’t have the sounds of her being beaten to death locked in your head. But I do.”
Holy hell, he couldn’t even imagine. “What do you want from me? I know I wasn’t there. Talk about feeding someone a shit sandwich. I’m not in the mood for one either.”
“Well, excuse me, I’d hate to burden you with a bad memory.”
Pyro stared at Angel. Where was the kid he left behind? The woman staring at him with hot angry eyes was no kid. She was a woman, demanding answers he couldn’t give. “I’m sorry for the way shit went down. If you don’t believe me, that’s your problem. Frankly, I don’t need your bullshit on top of what I’ve already heaped on top of myself. If all you’re asking for is a place to stay and a few meals, fine. On one condition —don’t mention her name again.” Pyro stood so abruptly that Angel jumped and flinched as if she anticipated a blow. That pissed him off even more. He didn’t hit women and never had. He was an asshole, sure, but he never, ever hit a woman. Jesus, Angel. She shifted in her chair, her gaze flitting away from his, almost in embarrassment and he wanted to lift her out of that chair and pull her straight to his mouth. Everything about her seemed fragile on the outside until he looked into her eyes and saw steel. The contradiction excited and shamed him at the same time. The woman had been through enough. She didn’t need him pawing at her. “Do we have a deal?” he bit out.
Tears welled in her eyes but she nod
ded. He let out an audible sigh of relief and then, because he needed space to get his head on straight, he grabbed his keys and stalked from the apartment with terse instructions for her to stay put until he returned.
As he climbed on his Harley and gunned the engine, he couldn’t believe how fucked up he was. He’d pretty much ruined Angel’s life and when she came to him for help, his cock decides to come to life to complicate everything. He had to find a way to keep his hands to himself and do the right thing for once.
Yeah, fucking tall order for someone like him.
Like his mama liked to tell him…he was born to be bad.
How long was he going to fight it?
***
Pyro didn’t have a specific destination in mind when he hopped on his hog but when he ended up at his buddy Bronx’s house he knew it was a good choice. He and Bronx went way back. They were both part of the Road Dog motorcycle club but since Bronx had recently turned civilized and handed over the keys to the clubhouse to Pyro, Bronx spent his time being a husband and father as well as president of a watch dog organization, called Gage’s Watch. Pyro was happy for his friend’s change in circumstances but sometimes he missed the bad-ass, simply because without Bronx to play off, Pyro felt alone most times, which was not to say that Pyro needed anyone but, yeah, sometimes it was more interesting to run with a partner in crime.
Pyro scoped out the driveway and was relieved to see that Bronx’s wife, Delainey wasn’t home. The kind of conversation he needed to have wasn’t one Bronx’s sweet wife should hear.
Bronx opened the door and let him in with a hearty grin. “What the hell are you doing here? Everything okay at the club?”
“Everything is fine. All quiet on the home front, if you know what I mean. There’s been some rumbling on the Kings’ side but nothing we can’t handle. Other than that, everyone’s been playing real nice. Frankly, it’s been kind of boring. I could use a good fight to let off some of this pent-up energy.”
Bronx agreed but threw in a different suggestion as well, saying, “Or you could just find yourself a woman and spend sometime between her thighs. That works wonders.”
“I’m sure it does.” Too bad the only thighs he was thinking of were off-limits. Which brought him to the problem. “Look, I have a situation. I could use some advice.”
