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“Twice tonight I’ve been put in a position to inform people that I don’t put my hands on women. I don’t give a fuck how many bricks of heroin she’s hiding. That’s a line a man doesn’t cross.”
“Where are the drugs?” I asked.
“Best guess? In someone’s bloodstream right about now,” Erion said, shrugging.
“You were never in the drug trade.”
“No, but shit happens,” he said, leaning back against his car. “And if you want to get a leg up after being away as long as I was, you need to be willing to do whatever it takes.”
“Do you even give a fuck that you were the reason a woman got her face all fucked up?” I asked, watching as his eyes went a little dark.
“The fuck is your woman dealing heroin for anyway? The arms trade not as profitable as it used to be?”
“She’s not a fucking dealer. She works at the bar. She got wrapped up with the Bulgarians years ago. They’ve been fucking with her life since.”
“That explains it,” he said, nodding.
“Explains what?”
“The fucks who keep an eye on her.”
“You’ve seen them?” I asked, stiffening.
“Dunno how you haven’t. Been on her ass since I’ve been out. Sitting in cars in the lot, watching.”
“What kind of cars?”
“Black. I know. Real helpful,” he said, sending me a smirk, confirming the rumors I’d heard about Erion being a bit of a dick.
“What about the men in the unhelpful black cars?”
“Too far to see ‘em. They didn’t sit on her all the time, but they were around. How the fuck haven’t you seen ‘em?”
“We haven’t been serious until recently,” I said, shrugging.
“And fuck buddies don’t share their super secret past involvement with a heroin crime syndicate.”
“Something like that. Have you seen anyone leaving packages at her place?”
“If I had, I’d have snatched them first,” he admitted.
“You’re really fucking helpful, man,” I said, sighing.
“Her place is quiet. Mostly just her around there.”
“Mostly just?” I asked, knowing Nyx didn’t socialize. She was usually working. And now that Dell was a mom, Nyx hung out with her at the clubhouse, not her apartment.
“Yeah, her one friend has been around a few times.”
“What friend? Delaney Murphy?”
“No. The guy. From the bar.”
The guy from the bar.
Granted, there were several guys at the bar.
Working back of the house.
