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“We’re not going to kill anyone,” I say. Does it really need to be said? Maybe, after Rebel put Alec in the hospital. But the fact that the ass face is still walking around should prove that we have some moral fortitude. We’ve scrapped and fought and given our fair share of violent responses, but growing up, constantly having to make sure we stuck together and survived, made it so. Sure we’ve brawled in clubs and bars and with guys who didn’t like the way their women looked at us too. And we’ve each seen red far too many times to count, but that’s a far cry from being a killer.
And yet, I can’t say that I wouldn’t do anything for Ivy. “But put the fear of God into him, sure. Teach him to stay the fuck away from Ro, absolutely. If he wants a fight, we’ll give him one. Through the media.”
“Okay.” His mug clicks against the counter as he puts it aside.
“And maybe just a teensy beatdown.” I pinch my fingers together to indicate a small amount when we both know that won’t be the case if I decide to go after him. Lucky for that bastard, I like to think I’m fairly levelheaded. Until I’m pushed to the edge.
Riot presses the tips of his agile fingers to the tip of his nose as he walks the length of the kitchen. He turns around and blows out a breath. His arms drop to his sides. “I’m in.”
“The cops are going to handle it.” I grip his shoulder hard enough that the muscle creaks. “There are cameras. There will be evidence. There’s no way he got in and out of here without leaving something for them to pick him up on. A hair. A fiber. DNA of some sort. And once they do, along with the media coverage, that will be the final nail in the cunt’s coffin.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” His phone lights up with an incoming call and he breathes a sigh of relief when he glances at the screen. “It’s security. The cops must be here.”
He lifts the device to his ear. “Yes, send them up.”
A few minutes later a team from the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department file into the foyer of Ro’s West Hollywood apartment. The detective in charge is young, probably only early thirties, a black man who looks more like he stepped out of a GQ photoshoot than he spends his time investigating criminal activity.
I figured he’d be muzzled, gray, and wearing a cheap suit. Like a bad cliché that’s very good at his job.
This guy is wearing an expensive suit and could have been the lead in the firstBad Boysmovie. His brown eyes narrow as he approaches me and Riot. He gives me a once over, before turning to my younger brother. “Riot Maddox? You’re the one that called it in?”
“Yes, that’s me.” My little brother shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels. He’s always done that when he’s felt like he was in trouble. And since we had quite the rep and got caught more than our fair share for shoplifting as minors it was usually in front of the boys in blue. Some things don’t change.
“I’m Detective Gunner.” His holster peeks out when his jacket falls open as he pulls out his badge. “Can you show me to the scene so my team can get started collecting any evidence? Then I’d like to ask you and…” He glances at the device in his hand. A small smile plays at the corners of his mouth as his eyes light up. “Rochelle Kitt?”
“That’s right,” Riot says.
He must be a fan. I hope he can be professional.
“There are cameras in the elevator. And the stairwell,” I inform him.
“I noticed,” he says. “And one of my guys is reviewing the footage as we speak.”
“I’ll show you the way,” Riot says, leaving me in the foyer while the detective and his crew follow him.
Ivy glances up the moment I enter the living room. She’s sitting with Ro on the couch while both girls sip their tea. Ro looks exhausted. Pale. Except for the red rimming her sunken blue eyes.
The cup in her hand trembles while she tugs at the fragile skin on her lips with her teeth. She’s like a string wound so tight, she might snap any moment.
My girl holds her hand, trying to ease her.
Ivy is so shy and quiet, but she’s strong. I don’t think she sees it. Right now she could be hiding from the mess that’s occurring around her, but she’s not. She’s lending her calm and her strength to one of my closest friends. Making sure that this girl she doesn’t really know has the support she needs.
Ivy’s brown eyes meet mine as though she can sense I’m thinking about her. Her lips tip up in the corners and fall just as quick. Her gaze is suspiciously bright and sad at the same time.
It makes me want to pick her up off the couch and crush her to my chest. Kiss her until she’s breathless. Senseless. Do whatever it takes to bring a smile to her face. Instead of this fear and worry we’re all feeling.
I clear my throat as I lever myself out of the doorway and over to sit beside her. “Cops are here.”
“Good. That’s good,” Ivy says.
“How are you doing, Ro?”
“I’ve been better,” Ro says on a sigh as she places her cup on the low table. Her blue eyes well, and her lip trembles, but she doesn’t fall apart. “All this time I thought if I stayed in my apartment and kept out of public I’d be safe, and it turns out that he could get to me any time he wanted…”
“They’re going to arrest him for this.” I take Ivy’s hand and turn it over in my hand. Lace our fingers. I have so much adrenaline crackling under my skin I can barely stand it, but somehow she soothes it.
“What if they can’t?” Ro’s voice is barely there. “Maybe we should cancel the article?”
