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What the hell is his deal?I follow him into my office, shutting the door behind us. “What’s up?”
Punk faces me with his hands on his hips. “I’m taking Jo and getting the fuck out of Fort Collins.”
All I hear is ‘taking Jo.’ I see red.
Nu-uh! He did not just threaten to steal my woman?!
Snarling like a damn bear, I storm forward, grabbing him by the front of his cut. “The fuck you say?!”
Punk shoves me off. “Cool your tits, Prez. It’s nothing like that. I’m saying she’s important to you and everyone knows it. Esteban knows this and that’s the problem,” he says earnestly. “I’m moving Jo to a safer location. Esteban already knows where our headquarters is. If he lives five counties away, he could show up and start a fucking war in our front yard any goddamn second. Do you honestly think he isn’t aware we’re closing in on him? I bet my left nut he does!”
With my teeth bared, I shove my finger in his chest. “Josephine isn’t going anywhere. She stays here in the damn compound she built. There’s no safer place for her than with me.”
Punk slaps my hand away. “Would you stop being a territorial dick? Her safety is my damn job, and I’m the best at it. If this was any other client, you’d be giving me the green light.”
“This isn’t a fucking client we’re talking about. This is my wife,” I seethe.
“Exactly my point,” Punk shouts back. “You’re not thinking clearly. You know damn well she’s a target. Esteban would love to use Jo against you. She needs to go underground, stat!”
I simmer down, my body relaxing. It was wrong of me to lash out at him. “I understand your concern, brother, but Josephine is staying put. With the tip that Piero has given us, we should be able to zero in on Esteban and end this.”
“‘With the tip that Piero has given us,’” Punk mocks. “Have you lost your fucking mind? I think the head between your legs has more brains.”
“Watch it,” I warn. I get he’s upset, but I won’t tolerate being insulted. He needs to remember his place.
My brother’s face tightens with chagrin. “Why do you trust this dude? He has done nothing to earn it. For all we know, he could be working hand-in-hand with Esteban, leading us away from where he’s actually located. Stop putting all your faith in the mafia Don. He gave you a fucking city, and you act like he gave you the X on a treasure map. Exactly what has he done to earn your loyalty, Prez?”
Huffing and puffing, I drop my head and think. Punk is not wrong to call me out on this shit. Piero has done nothing to prove he’s our ally, and yet I keep giving him the benefit of the doubt. If this was a regular job, I’d be assigning men to take the client into hiding until all was clear. Everything Punk is saying makes sense—it’s the idea of being separated from my wife that is clouding my judgment.
“And before you sayyou’lltake her into hiding, stop. Esteban is after you—not her. Where you go, he’ll follow. Let me take her,” Punk insists.
“Where? We have no established safe houses. I can’t exactly call in another favor to the governor and have him put you two up without state security going nuts. I could reach out to the FBI, but then they’re going to be all over us to get the jump on Esteban. The last time we brought them in, they blew our cover. My shot missed his heart by an inch.”
Punk is silent for a moment, deep in thought. He looks out my office window, folding his arms over his lean chest. “I’ll take her back home with me.”
Bewildered, I do a double-take. “The hell? You’d go back to Tallahassee and cozy up to your prick brother and your ex—now sister-in-law?”
“To hell with my ex-family bullshit,” Punk snaps. “We’ve got bigger issues than my dysfunctional background. My step-father can house us for the short haul ‘till you wrap this up. Esteban’s ballsy, but he’ll likely avoid breaking into a gated community filled with business tycoons and senators—it might as well be the White House grounds with how secure it is.”
There’s no way in hell I would send Punk back there to suffer silently while watching his ex and half-brother play house. I look at him sadly.
“Don’t give me that look, Atlas. I don’t need your pity. Nat is the past—Mercy Ravens is my family and future. Hell, it might be fun to bring Jo to my old stomping grounds. Bet you any money she’s going to have her claws in my family.” Punk rubs his hands together evilly. “Getting hard just thinking about setting her loose.”
Shaking my head, I say, “And you call me a sick bastard?!”
Punk gives me one of his cocky grins before turning serious. “Are we good? Can I make the call to the old goat?”
No!I’m still not on board with this idea, but Punk’s right. As long as Esteban is alive, Josephine is in danger.
“I’ll need to talk with her and get her on board.”
Punk nods. “Good. I’m gonna make the call. Um, you should talk to Jo soon. There’s no way in hell you’re bailing on informing her. I need her on good terms with me before we leave—I don’t want this to be more complicated than it will already be.”
“I’ll talk to her. You have my word.”
