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“This is all my fault,” she says as I pull out of my parking spot. I wonder if she expects me to react to her confession, but I don't. “Laura was right about me. I’m not a good person and I fuck up everything I touch. I came here to try to help her, but all I did was hurt her. He grabbed her because she looks like me. If I hadn’t made her change her hair color, she could’ve taken my place last night, and Donatello’s goons wouldn’t have grabbed her today. Donatello is gentle, but his goons are dicks. They could’ve fucking killed her and the blood would’ve been on my hands.” Her voice is so broken making me realize none of this is for sympathy. Gillian really feels this much guilt about Laura being kidnapped.
“Are they going to hurt you?” I ask, no clue why at all.
“No. He just wants me to go to Texas with him. He has connections in a place called Grove Hill. I don’t even know why I refused in the first place. He’s the only person whose life I don’t screw up. I have nothing in San Jose for me.” Maybe this is for the best then. Gillian can go live her life and stay the fuck out of ours.
“How much further?” she asks as she wipes her tears from her cheeks.
“Ten minutes.”
She nods. “Just promise me you’ll be good to my sister, protect her, love her,” she mutters sadly.
This is an uncomfortable subject. Not really the subject, but that I’m talking about it with Gillian. “I promise.”
The rest of the ride to the abandoned warehouse is silent and I’m thankful for the air to think. Donatello will probably be pissed when we arrive, but I don't give a shit. He hurt Laura and took her from me.
I pull around the warehouse and park in a pitch black loading area for trucks and cargo containers. This area used to be bustling all through the day and night, but everything was shut down years ago due to a drug bust. It’s the perfect meeting spot.
A black SUV is already parked behind the warehouse, its high beams on like an alarm bell. I’m not an idiot. I know it’s not just him and Laura.
I climb out of the truck and walk over to the front, waiting for this mobster to surface. I don’t need to see anyone. I can sense eyes on me.
The back door to the SUV opens and out steps a man in an impeccable suit, hair slicked back like this is the roaring twenties and he’s Jay Gatsby. Fucking prick.
“You must be Gunner,” he says as he walks to the front of his vehicle.
“Cut the crap, Scarfoni. I came here for my woman, not to make friends.” I growl at this asshole.
He tosses his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough. Did you come unarmed?”
“Did you?” He opens his jacket, flashing the underneath, completely clear of weapons. I examine the lining of his pockets and his calves, confident he’s not carrying anything. “Okay.”
“Well?”
“I’m unarmed,” I say before sending him a smug grin. “However, my passenger isn’t and…” I trail off as I hear the hum of motorcycles until it's so loud I know they’re right around the corner. “My club never rides unless they’re packing some heat.”
Though what I say is true, the men behind me are not all my club. Most of them are retirees except for the few people I know I can trust not to tell Browning about this, specifically Gillian’s existence. Chucky has been helpful in gathering those who are more loyal to me than the man who sired me.
“We had an agreement, Gunner,” he chastises me, but I can tell he expected no less out of me.
“I haven’t gotten where I am without eyes in the back of my head. I know you’ve got at least half the fire power that I do and most of those guns are pointed at my head. Am I right?”
Most people would be pissing themselves knowing so many trained guns have an aim on them, but I’m not. Even if they do fire, Chucky has assured me that he’ll make sure Laura escapes unharmed. That’s all that matters. She is the only thing that matters.
“It seems we are two cloths spun from the same weave. I can’t exactly risk the safety of my woman, can I?”
“What a coincidence. Neither can I. Give her back to me. Gillian will leave the truck once I have Laura. She’s not bound or gagged.” He slowly nods before lifting his hand, giving a signal to someone, probably someone still in the car.
I’m proven wrong when two burly men in suits drag what I can only assume in Laura out, letting out muffled curses with a fucking sack over her head, her hands and feet bound together.
“Sadly, we had no choice but to bind and gag her. She put three of my men in the hospital in the few hours since she woke up, quite impressive since she has a minor head wound. Gillian is a pistol, but she has never attacked people like that. Your woman is scary.”
A part of me feels smug. I’m glad Laura put a dent in his small army. They deserve it for disturbing her.
Grabbing her arms, I lift her up, but she tries to knee me in the groin, narrowly missing. For fuck’s sake.
“It’s me, darling,” I rasp in her ear and she relaxes so I can pull the bag off her head. Her eyes open, her mouth wedged slightly open by the bandana in her mouth. Her gaze softens instantly as she looks at me with love in her eyes. I untie the bandana and she stretches her jaw as she plays with my scruff. “Are you okay?” I ask, but she smiles up at me.
“I’m only minimally glad I didn’t knee you in the junk, Sunshine.” Her eyes twinkle with delight as I hold her tight to me.
