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“Dragon.” A bouncer is racing toward me when I turn down a corridor leading to my private office. It overlooks the club and is soundproof.
Muttering the whole way, I don’t stop. Everything destroyed in the shooting was replaced or scrubbed down no more than an hour after the shit storm of my encounter with the Druid went down. Thing is, living in the gray area of life has a few perks. The Savages have a damn good undertaker on call. Ares or Rage had to have called them the second they heard about the shooting.
Security scrubbings, blood, bullet casings. They don’t miss a detail.
I reach for the keypad, punch in my code and sigh with relief when the fierce sound of drums stops.
“Sir.”
I whirl around not realizing the bulky man I hired a year back to help keep the underage kids out followed me inside my office.
I step behind my desk and do a check of the security systems. With a push of a button, a row of monitors lifts from the center of the large desk and with a flick of a finger over four different screens I can see everything going on in the club.
“What do you need, Bastian?” I say without looking up. Patience isn’t something I have a lot of right now. I grab my phone from my pocket and check the time.
He doesn’t flinch at my irritation which earns him some points in my book.
“There’s a detective who has been roaming around the club waiting to speak with you.” Bastian crosses the expansive office and hands me a card. I look away from the various shots of the club and take it.
“And? You tell them anything?” Part of working for the Savages is learning to keep your mouth shut and clad in an iron non-disclosure agreement. As of yet, not a single employee has dared break their contract. But I still ask.
“No sir. Not a word. From anyone.”
“Good.”
“She did leave this before getting called away. She said she would be back.”
I look at the name. Sara Darling. The same detective who interrogated Asena and bad news if she is hanging around. I don’t know how much they got out of my girl, but enough to have badges here means they suspect something.
I toss it in the trash bin to the side of my desk. “No badge gets inside without a warrant. Understood?”
“Yes sir.”
Not many of the people in my past life stuck around while I worked to take down one of New York’s deadliest criminals. Just another price I paid for the supposed good I thought I was doing. Something I’d do all over again in a heartbeat. This detective isn’t someone who would remember my younger self, but I knew her father well enough. A man of rules and regulations. He breathed them as everyone else does air. I can’t imagine his daughter will be any different. Not everyone is either on Titan’s or Son’s payroll and getting tangled up in red tape with someone wanting to make their career is not my idea of a good time.
I grab a bottle of Aspirin from a drawer and dry-swallow a couple. Bad idea. I force them down anyway. Rage had a point about the painkillers. I’m done with them. If a few over-the-counters can’t help control the constant throb in my shoulder, I’ll just have to live with the irritation of pain until it heals.
Since I have no intentions of letting Asena out of my life again, I can’t afford to be less than my best. The little time we’ve spent together has solidified my resolve on that front. Whether I deserve it or not. I guess that makes me a bastard. So be it. The only thing I won’t have is her carrying my child. That dream died the night I discovered the depths of my father’s sins. His blood is mine. His sins are mine. I won’t pass that curse on to anyone else.
“If Detective Darling returns while I’m on Asylum grounds, give me a heads up.”
“You got it.”
No one will ever lay a finger on Asena again—including the law. I meant what I said. She is mine in every way now. She can try and run but I’ll track her ass down and use every set of cuffs I have to make sure she doesn’t try it again.
I crack a smile at the idea of Asena cuffed to my bed. I might do it even if she doesn’t run. Just to piss her off and have some angry sex. That turns my grin into a full-on smile. I know I must look like a damn fool to Bastian but who cares.
There’s a knock at the door and we both turn to see a six-foot shadow looming in the hallway before it steps into the light from my office.
“Did I hear somethin’ about a detective?” Raspy, deep and to the point. There’s only one man I know who sounds like a unique blend of New York and Louisiana—a long draw on the vowels and relaxed pronunciations. It speaks of his time with Ares in the Big Easy. I haven’t asked much about either of their backgrounds. A mistake I should rectify if I ever clear the air between Ares and me.
I turn to Bastian. “That will be all.”
“Yes, sir.”
Bastian moves around the newcomer and shuts the door behind him.
I crack a grin when a long-time Savage ally and friend Liam “Reaper” Black walks through my door. As usual, he looks ten times meaner than a pissed-off cobra. I don’t know what caused it but he lives like he’s in fierce mode all the time. But the women seem to love the bear of man anyway.
