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My biker raises our linked hands to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “Thank you for trusting me.”
“Don’t make me regret it,” I warn him as the police approach.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-NINE
CHASE
Statements were given, pictures taken, and video footage handed over. Preoccupied talking with law enforcement and going over expenses with the mechanic, I hadn’t noticed how late it was until I finished watching the mechanic tie down my baby to his flatbed truck, hauling her off to his garage. My woman was yawning, fighting to keep her eyes open, and I was equally exhausted.
Our night was shot. We were hungry, tired, and hella pissed off. Simone and I walked hand-in-hand back to our room, ordered room service, and crashed hard after our stomachs were full.
Having an internal alarm clock can be a real bitch when it wakes you at four in the morning. However, this morning I appreciate the early wake up call. I have a score to settle.
Staying close to Simone, I work on my laptop beside her in bed. She snores quietly with her back to me, completely checked out.
Good.I want her relaxed, accepting I’ll deal with Trent in my own way. I know she worries about me doing anything that could get me arrested. But this is my life—I bend the law daily for the greater good. Only this time, it’s not for someone else. Today, it’s for me.
No one fucks with me, my woman, or my hog and gets away without a reality check.
Luckily, Trent is making it easy to track him. The douche is brand-loyal to a fault. Apple products are special, allowing a person to link all their other Apple products together. Laptops, tablets, watches, phones can all be connected. From there, it can upload your info to apps, such as fitness or social media accounts.
And when these accounts are made public…well, it makes my job a cakewalk.
Seems Trent’s a cycling enthusiast, riding every morning at the same time—like damn clockwork. The idiot boasts about his mileage, posting his achievements on his Instagram. His entire account is like some sort of exercise diary.
And the moron rides the same course. Every. Single. Day.
Excellent.His habitualness is going to weigh heavily in my favor.
After memorizing his route from his latest Instagram posts, I scan the city surveillance, picking a location with few cameras and fewer people. The less there is to trace back to me, the better.
With my location selected and Trent’s estimated time of arrival calculated, I have enough time to put my plan into action.
Dressing in silence, I tug on my clothes. Ready to leave, I walk to the bed where Simone sleeps. The last time I left without informing her where I was going, she panicked. My woman doesn’t need to worry unnecessarily.
I lean over the bed, placing a gentle kiss on her temple. “Numbers? I have to go. I’ll be back shortly.”
Simone stirs, blinking awake. She reaches for my hand. I slip mine into hers. “Are you going after Trent?”
More than anything, I want to keep her in the dark. The likelihood of getting caught is slim, but there’s always a risk. The less she knows, the better. I settle on withholding specifics.
“Not the way you think, baby. Just evening the score, is all.”
Her gray eyes narrow, studying my face. “Is it worth the risk?”
“The dick cut your name out of my hog, Simone. The way I see it, he wasn’t only attacking me. If I do nothing, he may assume he can get away with more. The hell if I sit back and let him.”
Instead of fighting me, like I expect her to, Simone cups my cheek in her slender hand. “Be careful.” She lifts her head, pressing a gentle kiss against my lips. It’s almost enough to make me say fuck it, roll over, and bury my frustration inside of her warm center.
“I want more of those sweet kisses when I return.” With one more kiss, I leave the hotel and head to the parking garage.
I find Punk sitting on the fender of the SUV with his arms folded across his chest, legs crossed at his ankles, chilling like it’s normal to be sitting in a deserted parking garage at this hour. He lifts his head as I approach.
“About time you showed up. I’ve been waiting forever.”
“The fuck you waiting out here for me?”
He gives me a side-eye glance full of condemnation. “Do I look like I’m gonna let you go after Sir Tans-A-Lot alone? Jesus, Chase. Do you know me at all, bro?”
