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And Donovan, standing outside his car in the rain, a hood pulled over his dark hair?
That’s a sign that something isn’t right.
I brake early and pull the SUV into a loading zone marked with big, yellow stripes, then throw it into park. Bristol sits up. “Are you okay? I don’t think you can—”
“Stay here. Lock the doors after I get out, and unlock them when I come back.”
Twins are staring now, too. I don’t have to look to know it. The way they’re watching burns holes in my back. I flip the hood of my sweatshirt up and get out of the car.
Jesus Christ. It’spouring.I shield my eyes with my hands and look in the driver’s side window. Bristol’s saying something to the twins I can’t hear. Her eyes meet mine through the blur of the rain. I motion toward the lock. Her eyebrows pull together, but she reaches for the button on her side.
The locksclick.
My foot lands in a puddle on the first step I take away from the car. I want to sprint over to Donovan. Shout at him at minimum. Causing a scene is a great way to make sure that everybody knows he’s here, which would render him useless. I walk instead. Slow, like a lost tourist. He doesn’t turn to look at me. I go two steps past, then turn back, approaching tentatively, like I really do need directions.
“Somebody go in there, Donovan? The dad?”
He tilts his head, but doesn’t take his eyes off Building C. I have no idea what he’s looking at. The rain gets heavier. It’s soaking through the shoulders of my sweatshirt. No way in hell am I sending Bristol out in this, even if Donovan says it’s nothing.
Donovan raises a hand and gestures past me, angling it like he’s giving me directions down the side street. “Two guys. Maybe a third. They circled the building four times. One of them stopped to look up at her place. Don’t recognize the faces.”
My heart turns into sheer adrenaline. It pumps through my fists. My legs. I could deal with three guys with bare hands. “Where are they now?”
“Around the other side. Nobody else has gone in. Haven’t spotted the old bastard.”
I turn around and pretend to look in the direction he pointed. “Any idea why they’re here?”
He shrugs. “Money? They want to shake down the dad because he’s an easy target who went out of his way to make himself known? I don’t know.”
Shadows slouch around the corner of Building C, and my vision tunnels. I don’t know who these motherfuckers are, but if they were looking for Bristol, I will fuck them up. It’s raining too hard for anybody to be out here without a reason. That means they have one, no matter how slow they’re walking, feet sloshing through puddles.
Donovan puts a hand on my arm. “No.”
That’s when I become aware that my foot is out over the street. I was on my way. Concussion be damned. Hands be damned. Everything be damned except impressing on those pricks that they’re not welcome here anymore.
I drag my foot back onto the sidewalk. Donovan waits a few beats, probably to make sure I’m not going to sprint across the street and get myself killed, then puts his hand back in the pocket of his hoodie.
“Two of them are carrying.” His tone’s conversational, just loud enough to be clear over the rain. “Third one has a knife.”
“What did they do, wave them around?”
“They’ve been here a while. The one in front keeps checking his waistband. The one with the knife bends down to fuck with his shoes too often for there not to be a blade.”
“I’m taking her back to my place.” I don’t know why I say this to him at all. It’s none of his business. We’re acquaintances who have been in the ring together a few times. We’ve gone to the bar. His number is in my phone. He accepted the job before I said three sentences. Fine. Maybe we’re friends. Who the hell knows?
He nods. “Good.”
My blood pressure jumps another twenty notches. “You don’t think you can keep them out?”
“I can keep them out.” He looks at me, his hair curling on his forehead, raindrops dripping down his face. Donovan doesn’t react to them at all. For a second, he looks like the cold, dangerous motherfucker I hired to protect Bristol. He looks like the guy I first met in the ring. Every part of his torso that can be hidden by a T-shirt is covered in tattoos. The rest of him can transform into anybody at a moment’s notice. Businessman in a suit. Guy with nothing but time who hangs out in a beat-up Ford. Anybody. Then the skin around his eyes goes tight, a shadow skimming his irises. “But if you don’t have to send her in there, then don’t. Losing her isn’t worth it.”
He must know something about losing people, then. Donovan has never brought it up. Not that there’s much time to have a heart-to-heart when you’re trying to land punches. Our conversations at the bar never included other people at all beyond Eddie and the other guys.
I open my mouth, but I can’t find a single thing to say that’s notI can’t hurt her, and I’m going to. I can’t keep her with me, and I can’t send her away. I’m so angry that somebody’s here, lurking around, and I’m so relieved I can’t breathe.
“I’m staying here until the job’s over,” Donovan says. “You don’t need to be here. She doesn’t need to be here. The place you’re looking for is parked illegally in the loading zone. Can’t miss it.”
“Thanks.”
