I spent a miserable night in a miserable motel on a miserable bed that felt like it was masquerading as a bed of rocks. There was no way I was going back to the room over the tattoo shop. That would just be asking for trouble. I had no idea if Jerrel was telling the truth. I wouldn’t trust that asshole any farther than I could throw him.

If Marcos had decided he was done with me, though, I wouldn’t put it past him to just decide he was done with me—permanently. So it was in my best interest to avoid places where he could easily find me for the time being.

Sooner or later, I’d hear from Marcos, and I’d know one way or the other whether Jerrel was being truthful. If I didn’t hear from him within a few days, I’d put in a call to him on my own, so I’d know one way or the other.

Once I talked to the boss, I’d be in a better position to figure out a game plan.

Until I had more information, I couldn’t do much about either Jerrel or Marcos.

That suited me just fine.

Thoughts of Briar pervaded my mind, and even when I tried to consider Jerrel or the matter of Marcos, I could only focus for a few minutes before she once more drowned out everything else.

I’d come awake with the echo of her voice in my ears.

They wouldn’t ever set out to hurt somebody they loved.

Now, lying there in the bed and staring at a water-stained ceiling, shame rolled over me as I remembered my response to her. Who said anything about love?

She’d flinched, and her face had turned so red, humiliation creeping into her eyes.

Squeezing my eyes closed, I lay there on the lumpy, thin mattress and mentally kicked my own ass. If I could turn back the clock by even a day, eighteen hours, I’d undo those few minutes, no matter what it cost me. But that sort of wishful thinking wouldn’t accomplish anything, and I knew it, so after a few minutes, I sat up, ignoring the protests from a tired, sore body.

I could smell greasy food cooking somewhere close. I had some vague recollection of a diner across the street, and although my belly rumbled, I knew I wouldn’t be getting anything from that particular diner. The smell of dirty oil was enough to turn my stomach.

The roiling of my stomach made my head hurt even more.

I shoved the heels of my hands against my eye sockets in a futile attempt to drive back the pounding cacophony inside my skull. It didn’t relent. Giving up, I trudged over to the in-room coffee maker and set about making what I knew would be shitty coffee. The quality didn’t matter. It was caffeine, and that was all that mattered.

As it brewed, I trudged into the bathroom and climbed into the shower. I’d slept naked so at least I didn’t have to deal with clothes as the headache from hell sank claws into my brain matter.

Thoughts of Briar encroached yet again, and I shoved them into a dark, hidden place.

I had to figure a way out of this mess—for her. She hadn’t asked to get involved in any of this. I sure as hell wasn’t going to leave her alone when it was possible Jerrel might try to move in on her. I knew I needed to be concerned about Marcos, but Marcos was under harsh scrutiny at the moment, and he wouldn’t take any direct action toward any of the Downings.

Jerrel was the wild card here, and he’d be the one to go after Briar.

Part of it was because he knew it would get to me. I had no illusions about that. For Marcos, she was just an objective. He had a mean streak, and I knew that better than anybody, but it wasn’t personal to him, not when it came to Briar.

But with Jerrel, it was a different story. His mean streak was even bigger than Marcos’s, and it was personal for him. He was doing it because I’d kicked his ass and humiliated him. Not once, but twice. His pride wouldn’t let that stand.

If I was going to protect her from either of them, I had to be close.

She wouldn’t let me near her unless I fixed things between us.

I didn’t even know where to begin with that.

I dried off, my brain spinning in dizzying circles that wouldn’t give up.

My thoughts shifted to Jerrel, maybe in an attempt to avoid the harder problem of Briar. I wanted to find him, pummel him until he was a broken, useless sack of bones. And I knew I would. If I got close to him anytime soon, I’d do it. I’d break him, bloody him, and I might not stop until he was sprawled lifeless in a pool of his own vomit, piss, and blood.

I actually wanted him to hurt. I’d never had any qualms causing pain, but it hadn’t been some burning drive. Not like this.

It was gut-deep and personal, so personal that I knew I’d better not go near him just yet.

Getting arrested for murder wouldn’t do jackshit to protect Briar.

After I downed two cups of shitty coffee, I left the cheap motel, lingering just long enough to dump the key at the front desk. A few miles away, I found a place to get some breakfast.

I knew Marcos was a bastard of the first degree, but he also tended to honor his obligations. Men who lived his kind of life usually did. It was just more efficient. If you screwed over the people who worked for you, word eventually got around, and it got pretty damn hard to recruit new people if they knew they were likely to end up with a knife in their back.

Every now and then, it worked in one’s favor to be ruthless and lethal—a healthy amount of fear went far when living a certain sort of lifestyle. But doing it on a regular basis was just stupid.

Marcos wasn’t stupid.

He’d only just give me the go-ahead when it came to Briar.

Would he really just up and change his mind in the span of a day and not update me on things?

Deciding to go with my gut, once I paid the tab for my meal, I got back into my car and headed for the tattoo shop.

I had a minor concern that Jerrel might come in, but he had a specific schedule that he worked, and other than those days, he never showed up.

He wasn’t likely to be there today.

If he did show, then it might come down to whether I could control my temper. But I did need to go in. How Rudy reacted would tell me what I needed to know about issues with Marcos.

It was still early when I pulled into a parking spot. Nobody else had arrived, and the place was still locked up tight, so I used my key to let myself in. After turning on the lights, I went about setting up for the day. Rudy came in just as I finished, and he gave me a bleary-eyed look then grunted out a greeting before disappearing down the hall.

I settled down on my stool, satisfied. If Marcos really had cut me out, Rudy would know, and he’d kick me out on my ass. Jerrel could very well be blowing smoke up my ass.

That settled my mind a fair amount, and some of the tension drained out of me.

A quick look at the clock told me that the shop wouldn’t open for a little while. I had a good thirty minutes, so I settled down on the stool, one booted foot braced on a wooden rung and my back against the wall.

Pulling out my phone, I got to work.

It took some searching to find the name of the flower shop I’d used last time, but I lucked out once I dug it up and the girl who’d handled the bouquet was the one who answered the phone.

It only took a little bit of prodding to refresh her memory, and she laughed when I told her I needed another flower order.

“What, man? You already screwed up again? You’re not a fast learner, are you?”

To my disgust, I felt blood rushing up to my cheeks. I was damn glad nobody had arrived at the shop yet. “You going to help me or give me grief?”

“I can do both,” she said happily. “So how bad did you step in it this time?”

“Shit. Your grandpa know you hassle customers this bad?”

“Only the guys like you.” She sounded unconcerned. “He was the one to tell me that guys like you are the bread and butter for us. Oh, and funeral orders. But I’d be a total shit to razz somebody placing an order for a funeral, now wouldn’t I?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Look, she really liked what you did last time. Can you do something like that?”

“The last time?” She sounded outraged, like I’d called her grandpa something vile. “I never repeat my works of art. Now help me out. Did you screw up worse than last time? Or not as bad?”

Groaning, I confessed. “It was worse.”

“Man, you really aren’t a fast learner, are you?” She sighed. “Okay, I can fix you up. You said she liked what she got last time. I can work with that. Just leave it to me. Now, are we delivering this or are you picking it up? There is a delivery charge.”

Mercenary little thing. “You can deliver it.”

“Okay.” She mumbled under her breath, then asked, “And when you want her to get this? Today? Tomorrow? If it’s today, there’s a rush charge.”

“Shit, is there anything that doesn’t have an extra charge?”

“Yeah. I don’t charge you for being grouchy. So, there’s that. So…today? Tomorrow?”

“Today.” I glanced at the address I’d scrawled on the notepad next to the cash register. “Here’s the address. It needs to be there by two-thirty. She gets off at three.”

“Gotcha. Want a card?”

I brooded, then shooting a quick look around the still-silent tattoo shop, I told her yes, and what I wanted on the card.

“Whew, boy. That possessiveness thing can be a real turnoff, you know,” she offered once I was finished.

I looked at the phone for a long moment, not sure if I was annoyed with her or amused. “You don’t say. Okay, what else do you need?”

“Budget. My favorite part.”

I’d already thought this through. “Two hundred fifty dollars.”

“Wow.” She let out a low whistle. “You really must have screwed up this time.”

“I appreciate you pointing that out, sweetheart. I really do.” I gave her the payment information and then hung up.

It was just in time too, because just after I ended the call, Rudy came in from the back, followed by two of the tattoo artists.

It was time for the day to get started.