Chapter 22

Savior

“What do you mean she never left town? I’ve spent the past week looking for Mandy from Reno to Santa Fe and now I find out she’s been in Vegas the entire fucking time?” Yeah, I was pissed. “What the fuck, Teddy?”

She shrugged and flicked her red hair off her shoulders, looking like she wasn’t fazed in the least. “She was on her way out of town when she was picked up by the cops on the side of the road. They wanted to talk to her about the murder of that chick who roped her into this shit. I’m surprised they haven’t questioned you guys yet.”

I was surprised too, but right now I had more important things to focus on, like where the hell Mandy was hiding. “So where the fuck is she?”

“She’s safe. She asked for my help and I gave it to her. And I’m not giving her up unless she’s in danger.”

Both hands went to my head, sliding through my hair and clenching my jaws. “She is in danger, Teddy! Don’t you get it?”

Golden Boy stepped between us, a dark scowl on his face as he cleared his throat. I didn’t blame him. I would’ve done the same damn thing if it were my woman. Teddy, though, didn’t seem all that amused. “Oh calm down, Tate. I can handle myself and I can definitely handle this big lug,” she told him and looked at me with an arched brow. “Besides I know that men have an inability to show real emotion and this anger is worry and fear and anxiety because the woman he loves is out there and won’t take his help.”

“Who said I love her?” Why did women just toss the word out like they were talking about an ice-cold beer?

Her head fell back and with one hand gripping her growing belly as she laughed, like it was the funniest thing in the goddamn world.

“Are you seriously that stupid?” She held up a hand and shook her head, laughter still erupting every so often. “I guess so. Well then, since you don’t love her then you should trust me when I tell you she’s fine.”

“She’s not!” I roared at her and the fact that she didn’t even flinch pissed me off and impressed me. “Roadkill MC is after her. They’ve already killed Krissy; do you think they’ll hesitate to do the same to her when they find her?”

I couldn’t even think about that shit. If they touched one hair on her head, I’d be forced to become the man I hadn’t been in years. The stone-cold killer who’d do whatever it took to protect his brothers. Both in the sandbox and here at home.

“Because you’re the only one who could possibly keep her safe, right?” One long pink fingernail poked me in my chest. “For your information, I paid for her room and she has a new car, which is why you, Mr. Nosy Butt, saw her old one at the car lot.”

When she was done yelling at me, Teddy stepped back and crossed her arms, waiting for me to say something.

“Tell me where she is, Teddy.”

“No. She’s my friend and she called me, not you. If she wants to see you, she’ll let me know and I won’t tell you a minute before.”

Damn, I couldn’t help but smile at her loyalty. Mandy thought she didn’t have anyone left who gave a damn about her, but she did. Teddy was as feisty as a mama bear protecting her cubs.

“Don’t smile at me like that, you piss me off,” she snarled, trying to hide a grin.

“I know I do, and you should be, but I still need to know where she is.”

“Because you love her?”

I groaned and palmed my face. “Really, Teddy? Right now?”

She flashed that cover girl smile and pressed a kiss to my cheek. “Good luck.”

“Damn, you’re seriously not gonna tell me?”

“Nope.”

“Thanks for nothing, Cover Girl.” I winked at her shocked gasp and left, phone in hand to call the Reckless Bastards’ resident computer geek.

“Jag, I need your help.” I waited until I was out of hearing distance before I asked for this particular favor, knowing if I was Golden Boy, I wouldn’t appreciate it either.

“I need you to track Teddy’s credit cards. See which hotel she’s paying for.”

“Everything all right, man?”

“Fuck no, man. Mandy is still here in town and I need to find her. Now.” I could hear Jag’s fingers already flying over the keyboard.

“Fine, but when Golden Boy finds out, I expect you to have my back.”

I laughed because we both knew Jag was a certified badass with weapons and hand-to-hand combat, never mind his computer skills and GB would never find out.

“I’ll handle it,” I promised.

“All right. Keep your phone on, I’ll have something for you soon.”

Finally, one goddamn thing was going my way.

***

Teddy, that little liar, made me waste a full day searching for Mandy when she knew damn well she hadn’t paid for the hotel room, or if she had, it was in a different name other than her own. Driving around Vegas at night was a bitch. Pedestrian traffic meant everything took twice as long and by the time either me or Jag realized it, night had come and gone.

Imagine my surprise when I was strolling down the Vegas Strip, trying to see where she might have gone, when I got a text from Teddy with just one word.

“Siren.”

I smiled and doubled back, making my way to the newest casino to hit the strip. My footsteps faltered for a minute as all the pieces settled into my brain. Siren was hosting the blackjack tournament. Tonight. My speed doubled and it doubled again, my feet carrying me closer toward Mandy. Toward the casino where Roadkill MC was waiting to collect their earnings. Over my dead fucking body.

Once I made my way across the blue and green lobby, decked out to look like the sea with elaborate paintings of the sirens the place was name after, and through the clang and ding of the slot machines, the roar of wins at the table games, I finally spotted it. The bright lights, cameras and the hustle and bustle gave away the back room location of the blackjack tournament. Apparently, it was being televised. I didn’t know how the thugs convinced her to do this, but it must be serious.

I spotted Mandy talking with some slick asshole in a suit, his hand on her shoulder like he had a fucking right to touch her. She was my woman, goddammit. My hands itched to rip him away from her and pound his face until my knuckles bled. But she didn’t shrug him off or even look upset, so I stayed back. Far enough so she didn’t feel like I was interfering but close enough to jump in if I needed to.

The first thing I noticed was that she’d cut her cast back. Now it only covered her wrist so that her hand was free. She wore a top with long sleeves and if you didn’t know about her injuries, you might miss it. Her therapy must be going well, I thought. Shit. I’d fucking know that if she’d let me into her life.

“Sir, stay back please.” A big ass bald dude in all black blocked my view.

“Sorry. That’s my girl and I just wanted to make sure she knew I was here. For luck, ya know?” I flashed a friendly smile and the man nodded.

“Understood, but security is tight tonight.”

Thank fuck for that shit. I looked around, hoping to spot members of Roadkill MC but if they were here, they were well hidden. I did see my own family, though, Jana with Max and Teddy and Golden Boy. Beside them sat Cross, Lasso and Stitch. I didn’t know the woman with long black hair streaked with grey sitting between Stitch and Jag. I couldn’t help but smile at all the people who’d shown up for Mandy. She might not know they were there, but if she did, it would mean a lot to the woman who still believed she was all alone in this world.

She didn’t know how wrong she was.

I took a seat at the end of the row beside Jag, watching Mandy. As she played, her gaze fixed on nothing but the cards, hers and the dealer, tapping the table or shoving her cards away.

The tournament began with twenty tables but as they dwindled down, the local news anchor and former blackjack champion hosting the event, went around to each table talking softly behind the players explaining what was happening. As the hours flew by, the tables went from twenty to twelve to seven and finally down to two. The action was surprisingly tense considering how fucking boring the game of blackjack was, with bets getting bigger, players getting bolder and a few even talking smack to each other.

“Okay folks,” Wendy Crewson, the attractive anchorwoman broke in. “We now have our final table. After a quick break, we’ll get started on the final action!”

Wendy smiled at the camera and when the director yelled “Cut!” the slick asshole I’d seen with Mandy when I first arrived came out with a woman in a crisp skirt suit and a clipboard.

He leaned in to whisper in Wendy’s ear, his hand on her lower back. Apparently the guy just liked to rub his paws all over women. Slick Asshole pulled back and gave a solemn nod before they both approached . . . Mandy.

Shit.

They pulled her aside into a huddle, talking quietly for a few minutes before they pulled apart. Mandy’s expression was impassive, her hands clasped in front of her as she stood between the suit and the newswoman.

“And we’re back!” The director pointed to Wendy with her anchorwoman smile fixed on her face.

“We’re back for the First Annual Siren Blackjack Tournament and a little bit of excitement has gone down on our break. We have the disqualification of a player and Siren owner and CEO Drake Foster is here to explain.”

Slick Asshole was disqualifying her? What the fuck?

“Thank you, Wendy, that’s right. It’s come to my attention that Mandy will be our new chef at the gourmet confectionery that will open in a few months. The Chocolate Drop will be the best place for high end sweets in all of Las Vegas, just as soon as Mandy here has recovered from some injuries.” He wrapped an arm around Mandy, who gave him a shaky smile. “Though her employment here hasn’t technically started, management and I agree that for the sake of fairness, it would be best if she withdrew from the tournament. Sorry, Mandy. We don’t want to give the appearance of a conflict of interest.”

He smiled and handed his mic back to Wendy before escorting Mandy away from the final table.

I needed to know what the fuck was going on. I followed them down the hall, surprised when no big ass security men tackled me to the ground.

“Mandy!” She stopped and turned. Slick Asshole did the same. She looked relieved while he looked anxious as my stride ate up the distance between us. I cupped her face in my hands, looking into those green eyes just to make sure she was all right.

“You scared the hell out of me! Don’t ever do that again,” I told her and yanked her into my arms, holding her tight until I was sure she was safe.

“Everything okay here, Mandy?” His skin paled under that fake ass spray tan when I glared at him.

I was about to tell the asshole to fuck off when another voice sounded.

“Yo, Mandy!” The tension I felt snaking through her told me it was trouble before I turned and spotted a Roadkill mother fucker I was familiar with. Scorch.

“Stay back,” I growled at them both, pushing Mandy directly behind me.

“I have security,” Slick Asshole said, a tremble of fear in his voice.

“Yeah, where the fuck are they, then?”

I kept my attention on Scorch, enforcer for Roadkill MC and a sick fucker who got off on hurting people. “Scorch, don’t be stupid.”

He smiled. “This ain’t about you or the Reckless Bastards, Savior. We want the bitch, she owes us.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” she shouted over my shoulder. That was my girl, feisty as ever.

“You heard the lady, man. Don’t make me do something you might regret.”

Scorch tossed his head back and laughed, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to prove he wasn’t scared, but he was. Because while Scorch was a psychopath, he knew I was a fucking killer.

“You can’t protect the bitch forever. She has a debt to pay, cash or ass.”

“You willing to bet your life that I can’t protect her forever?”

“Savior, don’t,” Mandy whispered in my ear, fueling my intensity to protect her.

“You willing to bet your life for a piece of ass?” Scorch laughed like it was the biggest joke in the world and it took every fucking ounce of control I had not to charge him and choke him until he was permanently silent.

I smiled a deadly smile that had made more than one grown man piss his pants. “Damn straight I am. Have you seen my girl’s sweet ass? If you had a brain you’d leave now, before the security goons and the law shows up.”

I backed Mandy up and punched the call button on the elevator because this asshole wouldn’t stop. The debt Krissy owed was big enough that he’d risk the life of a few of his brothers to get it back.

“I texted Teddy our location,” she whispered, hands on my shoulders, keeping me calm even though she didn’t know it. I couldn’t be reckless, not with Mandy so close to the line of fire.

My hand reached out to pat her hip. “That’s my girl.”

“You keep saying that,” she said and I heard the smile in her voice.

“It’s true,” I told her as my other hand went to my hip, pulling out my Glock. “So what’s it gonna be, Scorch, life or death?” The bell sounded, and I shoved Mandy into the elevator and then Slick Asshole.

“Ow!” Mandy’s cry drew my attention at the most inopportune moment, but I had to make sure she was all right. I called out, “Mandy, you okay? Shit!”

The sound of the gun firing came too late, and a bullet went sailing right through my shoulder. “Motherfucker!” I fired off three shots, hitting one of the assholes next to Scorch before I jumped in the elevator.

“See what happens when you put your life on the line for a piece of ass?” His voice drew closer and I kept my gun trained on the doors, which were still fucking closing.

“Door!” I shouted at Slick Asshole, who seemed to be frozen in fear. “The goddamn door!”

Finally, he jumped into action and pressed the close button just as Scorch and one of his men stood in front of the closing doors. I fired three shots as the car began to move. “Holy shit! What the fuck?” Slick Asshole stared at Mandy, eyes wide with terror.

“Two dead assholes,” I told him and then collapsed to the floor of the elevator. I’d been shot before, a few flesh wounds and one that ripped through my stomach years ago, so I knew the deal, but I was losing blood fast.

“Savior! Shit, you’re hurt.” She cupped my face and I knew what she saw, my eyes glassy and dazed. Her eyes missed nothing, staring at my shoulder spurting blood. “Jacket,” she barked at the man, snapping her fingers and I had to smile. Mandy was still trying to control the uncontrollable. “Shirt too,” she said distractedly.

“This suit costs—”

“Give me the fucking clothes!”

If I wasn’t in so much pain and losing blood like I had any to spare, I would have laughed at how quickly Slick Asshole removed his jacket and then his button-up shirt.

“Here,” he shoved his jacket at Mandy and watched as she folded it and put it under my head, then the expensive silk blue shirt.

She snapped her fingers again and pointed to his bony chest. He got it, peeling off his wife beater and handing it to her with shaky hands. Shock. Despite his mobster look, the guy was probably an Ivy Leaguer who’d never even heard a gunshot outside of TV.

“Thank you, Drake.” She balled up the t-shirt and pressed it to my shoulder, pulling a string of colorful curses from me. “Sorry, but we have to stop the bleeding.”

“I know. You worried about me, Pixie?” My smile was weak, but her lips curved in response.

Then turned into a glare. “You took a bullet for me dumbass, of course I am.” Her expression softened, eyes the color of jade flickered with worry and maybe even affection.

Despite the pressure, the elevator floor was more red than blue at this point as blood spurted out of my shoulder. It was probably an artery, I thought as black spots clouded my vision.

“Aww, Mandy, I love you too.” At least I thought that was what I said to her, but what the hell did I know?