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“What I don’t need is my woman having bullets fired at her.”
That, too.
It wasn’t long before he appeared in the office with Isaiah hot on his heels. His posture stiff, his muscles bunched with tension, Deke made a beeline for her. His jaw clenched tight, he cupped her neck so gently, his touch barely there, as he examined the graze on her cheek.
“It’s healing fast,” she told him. “It’ll be gone within a few hours.”
Hauling her close, he palmed the back of her head and wrapped his free hand around her nape. “Fuck, baby.” He dragged in a breath, taking in her scent as if to reassure himself that she was alive.
Bailey swallowed, unused to anyone other than her girls giving that much of a crap about her safety. She smoothed her hands up his back. “I’m okay.” It was an awkward attempt at comforting—she’d never been all that good at it.
“What do we know so far?” he asked no one in particular.
“His name is Richard Fleming,” Aspen replied. “Me and Camden found his wallet in his car. I texted his details to River. He’s digging for more info on our friend as we speak.”
“I searched his phone,” Camden added. “His text-conversations make it apparent that he’s an extremist. He told a fellow extremist that he got a ‘job’ to give a lone shifter a scare. He wasn’t given strict instructions on how to go about it; he was told to be creative. But instead, he planned to kill Bailey to impress the higher-ups in their faction.”
Deke let out a low growl that rang with fury.
Aspen took up where her mate left off. “If he has the ID of who hired him, he didn’t mention it to his buddy, only added that he’d met the guy at a bar. It’s probably the same dude who hired the last extremist.”
Scraping his hand over his nape, a visibly upset Corbin shook his head. “I know you might want to consider the jackals, but I don’t see them associating with extremists. Gut them open like a fish, yes, but not giving them work.”
Havana nodded, her temper barely controlled. “Ginny could have asked a friend or paid someone to hire an extremist for her. Unfortunately, we can’t question her, because she’s still nowhere to be found.”
“No one here I’ve spoken to has seen or heard from her,” said Corbin.
Isaiah piped up, “I don’t even slightly suspect Jackson’s brothers. They were terrified of us.” He paused and looked around. “Is Tate not here yet?”
Havana rolled her shoulders. “He’s on his way. He’s bringing Luke, Blair, and Farrell with him.”
Camden’s phone chimed. He whipped out his cell and frowned down at the screen. “That was River. Our guy here is definitely an extremist and has quite a criminal record. Much like the last extremist we detained, he’s seriously small fish. His faction doesn’t officially exist—it’s just a bunch of hateful humans who’ve banded together and commit petty acts.”
Just then, Fleming stirred, squirming slightly.
Deke narrowed his eyes. “Someone’s awake.” He crossed to the human and rolled him onto his back.
Wicked fast, the male put a small vial to his mouth and knocked back the contents.
Deke frowned. “What the fuck?”
Everyone crowded around the human as he began coughing and groaning.
Bailey lifted the empty vial and sniffed it. She reared back. “Poison. He poisoned himself.” She sneered, as furious as her snake with the little shit for taking such an “out.” “Typical extremist behavior when they’re captured. He must have kept it in a hidden pocket or something.”
Deke fired questions at him, but the bastard ignored them and then started seizing. Within moments, Fleming was dead. “Fuck.” Deke whirled around and thrust a hand through his hair.
Grinding her teeth, Bailey clasped the vial so tight it hurt. She would have thrown it at Fleming’s goddamn face if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d feel no pain.
Around her, the others went on a rant. Camden even kicked the body, his fists clenched. Bailey remained silent, the sour tang of rage in her mouth.
Tate, the Betas, and Farrell soon arrived. Needless to say they were all pissed that the human not only couldn’t tell them anything but had escaped punishment.
His hands on his hips, Luke scowled down at Fleming. “Someone needs to get rid of both his body and his car.”
Soothingly rubbing his mate’s back, Tate gave a curt nod. “I need you, Blair, Farrell, and Isaiah to take care of it.”
“Will do,” Luke told him.
Blair looked at Tate. “Are you going to call the jackals again?”
Tate scraped a hand down his face. “I don’t see any point. The conversation will go the same as the previous two did. And, honestly, I don’t believe that they were behind this.”
“Neither do I,” said Corbin. “One scare to send a message, maybe. I could even accept that they might choose to do it twice just to make it clear that they mean business. But three is overkill, and I don’t envision them having anything to do with extremists anyway.”
