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I don’t have time to duck. It smashes right into my face, and I’m out cold.
Chapter Seven
KENZO
“You could have at least caught her.” I laugh as I stare down at the beautiful girl out cold on the floor. Diesel punched her hard, her eye is already swelling, and I’m betting her head will hurt tomorrow.
Better than what Garrett would have done to her for that cheap shot, but when I actually look over at the guy, he’s icing his cock and has a strangely impressed expression on his face as her bat leans next to him.
Who is this girl?
Definitely not the meek little good girl I was expecting, that’s for sure. Hell, she didn’t even seem scared when we told her everything. She tried to fight. I like that. It might keep her alive for a while. At least long enough for me to get my dick wet and see if she fights like that in bed.
I bet she does.
She’s a wild one.
“Kenzo, go with Diesel and pack her a bag…more than just panties.” Ryder sighs, staring down at the girl. “Garrett, pick her up, will you?”
The big guy grumbles, pulling the ice from his dick, but he lifts her up and cradles her to his chest without looking down at her, his teeth clenched. Nodding, I follow Diesel upstairs. “Shit, I’ll get the key,” I tell him when he tries the handle and it doesn’t budge.
I’m turning to do just that when I hear a smash. Glancing over my shoulder, I see he’s kicked down the door. He grins back at me. “No need, it’s open now.”
Shaking my head, I grab my dice, a habit, as we step inside. My eyebrows rise, it’s a fucking mess. Clothes and beer bottles are everywhere. Ryder would have a shit fit if he saw this place. Diesel, uncaring, heads straight for the half open wooden drawers on the back wall under a window. He starts grabbing handfuls of panties, I even catch him sniffing some.
I snatch a bag from the built-in wardrobe next to the bathroom door and fill it with her toiletries and makeup. I take some clothes that are hanging up and other articles from the room, as well as some bits and bobs she might need. We can always buy her whatever else she wants, but her having her own stuff might calm her somewhat.
I almost laugh out loud as I remember how she took down Garrett. It’s not often someone gets a drop on him. Hardly ever, in fact. This is going to be fun. A noise drags my head up to see Diesel bouncing on her bed, his arms under his head.
“You going to help or jack off into her knickers?” I ask seriously, noticing a stringy pink piece clutched in his hand. “Remember what we said about touching yourself in public?”
He frowns, tucks the panties into his pocket, and fluffs up the pillow under his head but freezes. With a slow move, he reaches under the pillow and pulls out a gun—a small revolver. Well, well, well, where did our little one get that?
Diesel’s face splits with a grin. “I think I’m in love. Do you think she would shoot me if I ask?”
“Probably, want to bet on it?”
“Hell no, you cheat!” he snaps, making me laugh. I do, sometimes. Other times, I just read people, it’s a talent of mine I’ve honed. It makes me a bad person to bet against, and also the best bookie in the city.
Peering above the mini fridge, I spot a photograph, the only one I’ve seen up here. It’s of a younger Roxy without as many tattoos, and her hair is longer and blonde. She has a nose stud, but it’s definitely her, and next to her is a large man. Huge actually, with a bald head and greying beard, scars at the corner of his chin, and a nose that’s been broken. Who is he?
It’s not her dad, but it has to be someone important to her. So I take it, fold it away, and pocket it just in case we need to find him and use him as leverage. Looking around, I nod at Diesel. “I think that’s everything. Let’s go before she wakes up and starts punching people again.”
“Do you think she would?” he questions wistfully.
“Crazy fucker,” I mutter, as I hoist her tattered bag higher and head downstairs.
Garett is still holding her, looking like he would rather be anywhere else, and Ryder is wandering around the bar. No doubt learning everything he can. I know how to read people, but Ryder? He’s made it a fucking game, a sport, to find people’s weaknesses and exploit them, destroy them with what he learned.
Little miss Roxy will be no different.
“All packed, she doesn’t have much.” I shrug.
Ryder nods. “I don’t think Roxy cares about things other than this bar.”
Garrett growls, “Fucking great, can we leave now?”
“Scared she’s going to take a shot at your junk again?” I taunt, and he narrows his gaze at me.
