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I laughed again and hung up the phone, knowing he would call again. “Hello?” I answered like I didn’t know who it might be on the other end of the line.
“Just one job, Rochelle. One fucking job so we can recoup what we lost when one of the stash houses was raided. Fuck!” I’d seen a couple of their stash houses, so I knew he’d lost at least a couple million dollars.
“No. Maybe you should recruit more stable criminals and you wouldn’t have drunk assholes running their mouths when they shouldn’t.” I froze as I finished speaking and I put him on speakerphone, so I could type something into a notepad. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but details were currency when you were fighting for your life.
“Maybe you should think about who the fuck you’re talking to, Rochelle. Out of respect for our past, I tried to do this the easy way.”
I laughed again because I knew it would piss him off. The man couldn’t handle being laughed at. “The easy way was sending your goons to fuck up my life and beat up my friends? Good to know.”
“You left me!”
“You’re a fucking nut job, Genesis, and I’m not coming back. You do what you gotta do and I’ll do the same, fuck you very much.”
This time I put the phone on silent and sat with my half-finished baby booties in my lap. And then, I cried like the baby I was carrying. Genesis continued to call, as evidenced by the voicemail chime that sounded every couple of minutes. I refused to listen to them.
That was how Lasso found me when he came home, bawling like a wounded banshee over a damp half of a baby booty.
“What’s wrong, Rocky?”
I opened my mouth to speak and a squeak came out, followed by more tears. My shoulders shook, and I was sure my skin was the color of an overripe tomato.
The seat cushions shifted under Lasso’s weight and his big, warm arms circled my body and pulled me close. “If you’re crying about the lack of tacos in the house, don’t. I brought like twenty of ’em from that truck you follow around town.”
I smacked his chest. “I follow them on Twitter and then when I’m hungry I go where they are. It’s how the food industry works, cowboy.”
Every one of my words was still muffled by tears and worry flashed in those big blue eyes of his, so I shoved my phone at him.
“Did you…what the fuck?” He glared at me, angry and worried as Genesis’ psychotic ramblings played out in his ear. Lasso cut off the words after a few minutes and turned to me. “Rocky,” he said, sounding disappointed and hurt. And pissed off.
“I know what you’re going to say. And you’re probably right.” It wasn’t just me involved anymore and I should have told him. “I’m still trying to figure things out and that’s all I can say,” I told him as my tears finally began to dry.
Blue eyes studied me and then went to my phone and back, like he was trying to figure out some damn riddle.
“You know I’m going to kill that shit stain, don’t you?”
I nodded, secretly echoing those sentiments. “I know you want to, but I’m not going to let you.”
“Feeling nostalgic and kindhearted towards your ex?”
“Fuck no, I’m feeling like he isn’t worth running from a murder charge.” It was my turn to take his face in my hands, force his eyes to look in mine so he could see how deadly fucking serious I was about this.
“I don’t know you well Lasso, but I do know that you’re a good man with a good heart.”
“No, I’m not,” he insisted, and I only smiled because in my experience, the actual good ones never thought they were.
“And no, you don’t know me that well.”
“You are, trust me. I also know that I don’t know much about your motorcycle gang.”
“Club,” he corrected.
“Fine, I don?
?t know much about your club but I’m guessing that saving my life won’t be a good enough excuse for any lawman to shy away from trying to nail a biker gang—er—club. If you really think about it, you know it’s true.”
He pushed back out of my grasp with a dark frown. “You’re seriously worried about this?”
I sighed. “Like it or not Lasso, this baby is yours too. I’m never going to be safe from Genesis, but this baby can be, but only if you’re not locked up in some prison.”
