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As he drew in a breath, he spared half a second to enjoy what was about to happen. Then he pushed his arm down, sinking into the flesh of Lefty’s groin and severing his femoral artery. “Enjoy your trip to hell,” he whispered. As blood poured out of the two-inch-long gouge, Rocket withdrew the knife and repeated the process on the other side. Then he stood in silence with Copper while they watched twin crimson rivers run the life out of a psychopath.
Once the light vanished from Lefty’s eyes and the flow of blood slowed to a trickle, Rocket turned to Copper and extended his hand. It was an apology, an affirmation of respect, and a thank you all rolled into one. Their gazes met as they shook.
“Shell expects you guys over for dinner tomorrow night,” Copper said as though they hadn’t just killed a man.
Rocket nodded, giving his president’s hand a squeeze.
After one last glance at the dead man lying in a pool of blood on the cement floor, Rocket made his way up the stairs. Halfway there, he heard Copper on the phone. “Need a clean-up in the box,” his president said. “Got some trash to dispose of.”
It was done. The task he’d focused on for months, yet Rocket didn’t feel one ounce of the relief he’d expected. That would only come after he’d laid claim to Chloe.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“CHRIST, WOMAN, YOU are going to make me go into labor with all the stress you’re spewing my way,” Izzy said as she intercepted Chloe’s pace halfway through the living room. “Stop moving.” She placed her hands on Chloe’s shoulders and steered her toward the couch. “Sit. Look out the windows at the pretty view. Chill the fuck out, sister.”
Chloe blew out a breath as her leg kicked up a bouncy rhythm. The scenery was nice. A lovely mountain view she’d have appreciated on any other day, but as it was, all she could think about was Logan. About what an ungrateful ass Logan was. Once she got her hands on him she was going to give him some of what she gave Lefty, earlier.
“Jesus, you can’t help yourself.” Izzy slammed her hand down on Chloe’s thigh. “Stop moving! You’re making me nuts.”
“I’m pissed!” With a shake of her head, she flopped back against the couch cushions. “Okay,” she said. “Give it to me.”
Izzy looked down at the can of ginger ale now in her hand. “What? This? No way. You know where the fridge is. Get one yourself.”
“Nice hostess, babe,” Jig yelled from the kitchen. “Want a drink, Clo?”
Ugh. She’d probably vomit anything she tried to swallow. “No thanks, Jig,” she called back. Then for Izzy, “I wasn’t talking about giving me your preggers drink. I meant give it to me. Lay it on me. Tell me how stupid men are so we can bash them together and I can gear up to kick Logan’s ass.
“Ahh,” Izzy said.
What the hell? “Ahh? That’s it. That’s all you got for me? Aren’t you supposed to be the tough one?”
“Well…” Izzy put the soda down on the coffee table, then turned, curling her legs under her. “Normally I’d be the first one on the men-are-pigs bandwagon, but seeing as how I’m also a violent offender, I can kinda see where he’s coming from.” She flinched and held her hands in front of her face. “Don’t hit me. I’m with child.”
With a grunt of laughter, Chloe rolled her eyes. “A violent offender? And I’m not going to hit you, bitch. I’m just going to call you a bitch.”
Izzy grinned at her with a shrug. “I can live with that. Look, you gotta think about this like a man.”
“Jesus,” Jig said from out of sight. “Can’t wait to hear this.”
“Love you too, babe,” Izzy called back. Her comment was followed by his laughter.
“Look, you know you did the right thing calling Copper. Rocket knows it too. He’s just throwing a mantrum because he’s pissed that Lefty got near you. I’m guessing he feels like it was his fault you were alone. You see what I did there? With man and tantru—”
Chloe waved her hand. “Yes, Iz, I see it. You’re so clever.”
“I like to think so.” She rested against the couch with a smug grin.
“You always do,” came Jig’s reply.
Izzy scowled. “New subject. No more talk of Rocket, who I have no doubt will come crawling around soon. How’s your face?”
Lifting a hand to her cheek Chloe winced when her fingers probed the sore skin.
“Well I didn’t ask you to poke it,” Izzy said with a roll of her eyes. “I just asked how it was feeling.”
“Well I had to feel it to know how it was feeling,” Chloe shot back. The two grinned at each other. “It’s sore, but the Advil helped.”
“Yeah and those butterfly bandages are holding it together well, but you may have a scar. Still say you should have gone to the ER so a surgeon could have stitched it up all pretty.”
