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We began our conversation.
Chapter 3
It took Grub roughly ten minutes to spill his guts.
Ten minutes, two broken thumbs, a lungful of pool water, and one eye-gouge. I stopped before rupturing his eyeball. As violent as I can be, I’d yet to cross the line that would make me a monster. One day, Grub would sit back and thank fucking God for that fact. If he made it to one day, that was. It was very likely Rufie would kill him when he returned to the new Trinity leader and told him what I’d said and done.
When Grub was finished answering all my questions, I made sure he wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry without assistance. Basically, I knocked the bastard unconscious and tied him to one of the pool fence’s poles with Ronnie’s towel.
Checking he had no hope of reaching the knot, let alone undoing it, I walked back into the house.
Ronnie waited for me in the kitchen.
She watched me walk into the living room, her eyes unreadable, her hands cupped around what I assumed was a hot cup of tea. When Ronnie was stressed, tea was her go-to drink.
There was no fucking way she wasn’t stressed right now.
“Is he still alive?”
Drawing a steadying breath, I gave her a brief nod. While I’d been talking with Grub, she’d dressed. The baggy sweatpants sitting low on her hips belonged to me. The retro Ghostbusters T-shirt h
ugging her torso was hers. The combination was sexier than I suspect she intended. It made me horny. If it wasn’t for Grub tied up by the pool, I’d strip her of the clothes and fuck the stress right out of her.
Instead, I gave her a gentle smile. “I promised you I wouldn’t kill him.”
A dry snort fell from her. “It sounded like he was dying.”
“Did you watch?”
She shook her head and then looked down at the mug in her hands.
Fuck. She may not have watched, but she’d seen some of it.
“I’m going to get some clothes on, get Grub off the premises, and then we’ll talk,” I said.
She nodded, took a sip of whatever was in the cup, and turned away.
My heart tore.
Forcing a cold calm over my mind, I hurried up to our bedroom, dressed in appropriate Grub-handling gear, and made my way back down to the living room.
Ronnie stood at the glass door leading out to the back deck. She wouldn’t be able to see Grub where she stood, but I still didn’t like she was near the door.
If Rufie had sent Grub, it was possible he’d also sent others.
I could count at least eight Trinity members who’d give their left nut to be the one to deliver Rufie’s message.
“Don’t leave the house, Ronnie,” I said to her back.
“Sure,” she answered without turning.
Fuck.
Grub was still out of it when I returned to him. I bound his wrists with two cable ties I’d grabbed from my office, and then released the towel tying him—by the neck—to the pole.
He slumped to the pavers, blood still leaking from his face.
A grim smile stretched my lips. Regardless of what he said to Rufie, my message to the new Trinity leader was clear—mess with me and you’ll pay for it.
