“Tell me about it.”
He frowned. “What do you want to know?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And why?”
“There’s this guy?—”
“Already?” Wylie’s eyes bugged and he gave me a once-over that stunk of shock and disbelief. “Damn, Boss, you work fast. But since when do you care about what one of your hookups likes? You were fucking that chick. Fiona. Hot as fuck with tits like balloons.” He held his hands out in front of his chest and made a bouncy movement with them. “And you never even cared to learn her last name. Why’s this dude different?”
I was going to rip his fucking heart to shreds because of his dad’s boyfriend, that’s why. I didn’t tell Wylie that. He was many things, but in the end, he was a big softy who’d tell me that my plan for KC was beyond cruel. Maybe it was. No, not maybe. Itdefinitelywas. But I had a plan and I was sticking to it.
“I like him.”
I didn’t feel guilty about lying to Wylie. There were very few people I was close to these days. It was easier—safer—not to get attached. Wylie and Flint were acquaintances and employees. Nothing more.
The one true friend I had, Ripley, was as jaded as me. When I’d told him the plan, he’d laughed and high-fived me. As it was, he was too busy with hockey to help me. The team was doing all their preseason bullshit. We couldn’t do more than text.
Wylie’s entire face lit up. “Let me give you the rundown.”
We drove the rest of the way with Wylie telling me about the football teams, rules, and what I needed to know. Flint happily snored in the back seat as though the road wasn’t rough and Wylie wasn’t practically shouting in excitement as he spoke.
We reached my new shop just after 6:00 p.m., and I pulled Shakira into a parking spot right in front of the door. PD’s place was pumping and I didn’t miss the three bikes angled into one spot in front of his windows. Kings didn’t scare me. Father was a DA and he’d put a lot of violent criminals behind bars, but he’d specifically targeted bikers and drug dealers. Being in danger from men like that had been part of my life growing up, prior toFather deciding to send me to a boarding school to straighten me out. He hadn’t wanted another Luke in the family.
Wylie frowned at the bikes, his gaze sliding cautiously to me. “That’s who you’re trying to destroy?” He grimaced.
“One of them.” I reached between our seats to smack Flint across the chest, and he grunted.
“Wha—” He blinked slowly at me, rubbing one eye with his fist while yawning. “Are we at the hotel?”
“No. We’re at the shop. We’re getting to work.”
Flint groaned. “You’re gonna kill me, Boss. I was up until four this morning packing my shit so I could fly out. Now you’re telling me we’re not going to the hotel first?”
I rolled my eyes. The second I’d gotten off the phone with them last night, I’d ordered plane tickets for them today. The movers were coming to get their stuff for transport tomorrow, but they had keys to get into Flint’s and Wylie’s apartments. Moving them here permanently was all part of the plan. Once I’d wreaked havoc on Luke’s life, I wanted to stick around for the aftermath, which meant Wylie and Flint were staying to manage the new place with me. I needed my two best employees here to help with the chaos.
“Let’s go,” I threw over my shoulder at him as I slid out of the car and moved my seat forward. Flint grumbled but shoved himself out of my door, practically folding in half to manage it. His shoulder-length dark hair swung as he moved. As soon as he was out, he pulled a hair tie off his wrist and tied his hair up into a manbun, getting it out of his face. He towered over me, something I’d always hated. He had at least two inches on me.
“You’re a drill sergeant,” he grumbled.
“That’s why I pay the big bucks,” I hit back, smirking.
We reached the front door together right as someone stepped out of PD’s shop. A man in a leather jacket with a crew cut and bushy beard rolled his shoulders as he shifted into the sun. Hewas tall and wide, with broad shoulders and thick eyebrows. His face was familiar from the many files given to me that I’d pored over for weeks on end.
Biker. Brother to Joshua Hebb. Boyfriend to Charley Hughes. Been to prison, was released early because of overcrowding. He sliced his victim’s necks. If he left them alive, he’d leave scars, which was how he got his nickname.
Colton Hebb, a.k.a. Scar, glanced toward us, eyes narrowed suspiciously as I shoved my key into the door. His watchful gaze glinted with danger, and he twisted his body until he was fully turned toward us. He crossed his arms, leather pulling over his biceps, but didn’t speak. His silence was enough.
“Fuck. Let me get inside.” Wylie shoved past me before I could yank the key back out.
I shook my head, tipped my chin to Scar with a smug smile, and then slipped inside with Flint right behind me.
“Are you insane?” Wylie hissed as I shut the door securely and turned the lock. “That’swho you want to piss off?”
I opened my mouth to retaliate when I heard abang, then a hiss deeper in the store, in one of the other rooms. I held up my palm before Wylie could say any more and frowned, listening carefully.
“Darn.” The whisper was low but still loud enough for my ears to capture. The voice was familiar. Oliver. But what was he doing in here?
Pleasure tickled my spine and my stomach tingled. I’d caught a little mouse in a trap I hadn’t meant to set, and now every single one of my nerve endings sizzled with a fiery lust. My cock hardened.
“Stay here,” I hissed at Wylie and Flint as I stalked toward the room where the noise had come from. The moment I was close to the doorway, Oliver darted out past me with more speed than I’d expected. He bumped his shoulder against mine, nearlymaking me lose my balance, and ran toward the side door that led into the alley between the buildings.
