Page 83 of LA Reign

“Later, amigo.”

Not long after, I pull up outside the hotel and turn off the engine.

The valet who understands who he works for greets me.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Montoya,” he says with a slight bow of his head.

“Buenas tardes. Did you get me what I asked you for?” I say as I hand him my keys.

“Of course,” he replies as he slips the plastic card into my hand. “Room five one two.”

“Gracias,” I nod as I place the key card in my pocket. “Give my regards to your mama.”

“I will, Mr. Montoya. She will appreciate that. And thank you.” For what, I wonder? For the job? For the bonus he’ll receive after doing me this favor? For the fact that I know who his mama is?

“Look after that car, Henry,” I instruct. “I only just bought it.” It’s actually Alana’s car. The Bugatti she’s not had much chance to drive since we’ve effectively been on lockdown.

“You betcha,” he nods eagerly as he opens the car door, sniffing the new-car smell appreciatively.

Henry is a good kid who ended up getting into a lot of trouble with some very nasty people a few months ago. He’s a talented thief, but also stupid enough to steal something he shouldn’t have from people he shouldn’t have. Fortunately for him, his mama and mine came from the same neighborhood. So, I helped him out, and recommended him for a job in this hotel. It’s the second best hotel in LA, and now that Bobby Conroy is no longer welcome in any of mine, he has no choice but to stay here.

I made sure I had him exactly where I wanted him. Within reach.

Whatever Alana says, I won’t rest until I know this situation has been dealt with. I refuse to have this piece of shit in my city, feeling like he belongs here. Feeling like it’s okay to spend time with my wife. To badmouth me behind my back. It’s far from okay, and he’s about to learn that the hard way.

I walk along the hallway until I come to Bobby’s room. Taking the key card from my pocket, I swipe it into the lock and smile when I hear a satisfying click. Henry has not let me down. A few seconds later, I step into the room, closing the door behind me.

Bobby strolls out of the bathroom, and his eyes almost pop out of his head when he sees me standing there.

“What the fuck! How the hell did you get in here?” he snaps, looking both annoyed and scared.

“I think you’ll find there’s nowhere in this city where I can’t go, Bobby. I own LA.”

“You asshole! You think you own everything, including Alana. But this is my fucking hotel room, not yours. I’m calling security if you don’t get out of here right now.”

“Be my guest,” I say, holding my arms open in invitation. He’ll have to go through me to get to the phone, and right now I’d like nothing better than for him to put his hands on me. Then I would be entirely justified in breaking every one of his fingers.

He stares at the phone and then back at me, weighing up his odds. “What the hell are you doing here anyway?” He straightens, puffing his chest out, misguidedly believing that will intimidate me. This man is used to being the most important guy in the room. The big cheese. Now, normal rules don’t apply, and I can see how much it pisses him off.

“I came to tell you, politely, to stay the hell away from my wife.”

He starts to laugh and I frown at him. Does this guy have a death wish, or does he not understand English?

“Politely? Breaking into my room is polite? Anyway, are you really so insecure that you can’t handle a little competition?” he challenges me. “Are you worried that Alana might come to her senses and realize she’d be better off with me?”

I run a hand across my jaw. Take a breath. I remind myself of the promise I made to Alana the night before, and again to Jax a few minutes ago.

I promised them both I wouldn’t kill this asshole, but he’s making that a hard promise to keep. Would putting him in a coma be just as bad?

He shakes his head and laughs, taking my temporary silence for weakness. “Or are you worried that once she starts working with me, spending time with me again, she’ll realize there’s still a spark there between us? That we have unfinished business?”

I have to give it to him, he is one cocky cabrón!

The vein in my neck throbs with the effort of not strangling him or throwing him off the hotel balcony. I don’t intend to kill him, but I’m not sure how strong my resolve is, especially if he keeps baiting me like this.

“Just stay away from her,” I warn him. “Stay away from me and from my wife.”

“Hmm. Maybe you should be telling her to stay away from me,” he replies. “If you’re that worried? Not sure you can hold onto her? I’ve seen the way you behave around her. You try and control her, to own her. That’s not what she needs.”