AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Now that,” the bitch responded, “is a much better way to treat me.”
The loud click of heels on marble echoed in the foyer as the two went down the hall to the kitchen. On the verge of a breakdown, I darted out of the room and flew up the stairs, blindly shoving as many clothes as would fit into the small backpack Jag bought for me to use when we rode on his bike. I hated having to take things purchased by that asshole, but I had no choice, no possessions of my own.
I had nothing. No one. I could have stayed. Had a big blow up with Jag. But what’s the point? I don’t belong here.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand and breathed.
Keep your cool, Miri.
In order to get out of here, I needed to appear happy and normal. Frank wouldn’t do what I asked without being suspicious if I were a sobbing mess. Hefting the pack on my shoulder, I inhaled deeply, and took one last look around the room.
It was time to move on anyway. I didn’t belong here.
I turned on my heel, head held high, and walked out.
Boss
When my men showed up with nothing to report, I was less than pleased. More like murderously angry. “It’s one motherfucking girl! Get back out there and don’t fucking come back without her!” Every one of my men flinched at the vehemence in my voice.
The men scattered like ants, none of them wanting to be caught in my crosshairs. I stormed across the study as they left and used my fingerprint to unlock a safe on the wall. A black metal box sat on the top shelf. I pulled it out and dropped it on my desk with a loud thud. A corner of the box took a chunk out of the polished wood desk and scattered some perfectly aligned items, but I couldn’t give two shits about my OCD tendencies right now. I opened the case and removed my Sig .22 caliber and screwed the silencer onto the barrel. Three loaded magazines were inside the box as well. I clicked one into the gun and racked the slide to put a bullet in the chamber. The other two magazines went into my pocket and the Sig into a custom shoulder holster I kept in a desk drawer. With my leather jacket on, the gun was invisible. I flexed my wrists to make sure my sheaths were in place and double-checked the KA-BAR on my lower leg. Everything else went back in the safe.
Fully armed, I left the study and went straight to the garage. The house was empty save a couple of men to watch the grounds and in case Miri returned on her own. I wasn’t willing to kid myself, though. I knew the chances of her coming here were near zero. Some of her shit was gone, which meant Miri ran. I was relieved she wasn’t taken, but this almost stung more. Why would she leave? And if she did, did Cuchillo find her? Unfortunately, neither of those scenarios ended with Miri walking up the front steps anytime soon. Half my men were watching Los Guerreros and would notify me if they found out they had Miri. The other half were scouring the city for any sign of the tiny redhead.
I opened the garage door, strode over to the Kawasaki and slung a leg over the bike. My heart hurt at the prospect of never seeing Miri again. Of never touching her, hearing her laugh, burying my nose in her hair and inhaling her sweet scent, feeling her soft skin beneath me and her tight heat around my cock. I revved the engine and tore out of the garage, hitting the street near full speed. When I reached the freeway and really opened up the bike, the landscape flew by in a blur. By the time I reached my destination, I had spun so many horrific scenarios in my head I was nearly hyperventilating.
This all felt so damn familiar. It was something I never thought I’d have to go through again. It was why I didn’t get close to anyone, why I became Boss, the hardened drug lord who showed no mercy. Because caring, loving someone, loosing someone, fucking hurt like hell.
The silence when I turned off the Ninja was almost as loud as the engine. Several sets of eyes lifted to check out the machine I straddled. Then the eyes moved to assess me. I removed my helmet and approached the open bays, my body language surely screaming danger. A quick scan of the garage lead to a swift punch of disappointment in my gut, the force of it nearly doubling me over in pain. No sign of Miri.
“Can I help you?”
I spun to find an enormous blond hulk of a man walking toward me. The huge, intimidating guy wore jeans and a T-shirt, just like me, only his were flecked with drops of motor oil and blotches of black grease. Big as he was, he wasn’t the one hiding a silenced pistol and two knives beneath a leather riding jacket. I fixed my face and put on my best smile.
“Howdy. I’m looking for Miri Murphy. You hired her to work here.”
The man’s eyes flashed with recognition and a hint of anger. I bristled at his reaction. Hulk knew something.
Miri’s either here or she was here.
Relief crashed over me. If Miri came here, it meant El Cuchillo didn’t have her. Thank God.
“She said you’d come,” the burly blond said. He straightened to his full height, which was several inches taller than me. Not that I gave a single fuck how big he was. I’d kill him with my bare hands if it meant keeping Miri safe.
“All right.” I struggled to contain my temper. After the day I’d had, I was at the end of my near-nonexistent patience. But pistol-whipping this guy until he told me what I wanted to know probably wouldn’t get Miri back in my arms, so I held steady. “Where is she?”
The man narrowed his eyes. “Can’t say she wants to see you, fella. Maybe you ought get back on that shiny motorcycle you got and head on out.”
A growl tore from my throat and my fingers curled into fists. “What’s your name?” I asked through clenched teeth.
The asshole gave me a knowing smirk. Fucker knew how badly I wanted to see her and was toying with me. Seeing as I had no fucking idea why Miri left or why she would tell this douchebag I couldn’t see her, I was hovering on the edge of completely losing my shit.
“Name’s Beau. This here’s my garage.”
I nodded and out of the corner of my eye I noticed the other men had stopped working and were coming closer to where I stood, circling the wagons.
“Well, Beau. I fail to see how what goes on between Miri and me is any of your business. So if you’ll excuse me for not giving a shit and tell me where the fuck my girl is, I’ll be getting out of your hair and no one needs to be hurt.”
I reached into my jacket and pulled out the Sig, the long suppressor making the pistol seem a hell of a lot bigger and a thousand times scarier than a normal handgun. Beau stumbled back a step and his men froze in place.
