I stare out the window at Rory’s empty driveway and curse under my breath. It’s almost eleven at night and she’s been gone all damn day. I came back from taking Ryan to school intent on trying to repair the hurt I saw on her face and she was gone. I waited around and she didn’t show up, so I went to the store to try and find her. Her boss said she asked for a couple of days off. That pissed me off, but it also made me breathe a little easier. She’s coming back, I wasn’t sure but she could have got a wild hair and decided to take off to Mexico.

I pick up my cellphone and dial her number again. I’ve lost track of how often I’ve called her today. It goes to voicemail. Son of a bitch. I wait for the tone and then leave my message.

“Gorgeous you can’t just leave and not talk this out with me. I told you I was dealing with shit. I’m working through it.”

My voice is hoarse, I suck at this shit and I’m not sure what I want to say—or what I can say without sounding like a sad-fuck that she shouldn’t waste her time on. Before I finish, the damn beeper goes off again and I’m out of time. Before I can talk myself out of it, I pick up the phone and dial her again. My foot taps against the floor until I get my chance and I give it another try.

“Damn it, Rory,” I growl—which is probably not the way to go about this shit. “I miss you,” I add and that guilt in my stomach hits me as her face flashes into my mind. “Fuck, I miss you, Baby,” I add a second later, just as the beep comes across the line. I hang up, not liking that again I’m denied her voice.

I flop down on the sofa, kicking my legs up, crossing them at the ankles, lay my phone on my chest and throw my arm over my eyes. There’s no way I’m going to sleep in the bed tonight. I may not have made a habit of having Rory in my bed at night because of Ryan, but that doesn’t mean she hasn’t been in my bed often during the day. The damn sheets smell of her, I close my eyes and I can see her there. I don’t know how she became such a part of my thoughts in just a few months, but she has. My phone vibrates against my chest and before the ringer can even start I pick it up.

“It’s about time, Gorgeous,” I growl, relief filling me.

“Just got your fucking message today, Mijo.”

Marcum. The crazy motherfucker, I had almost forgot I put a call through to him. I shake my head, trying to clear it of the disappointment I feel. I was sure it was Rory calling me back.

“You’re older than me, Marcum, but not that fucking older. I’m not your damn son,” I grumble. He always calls me that, playing off the Spanish heritage I have in my blood.

“You’re just as cheerful as ever,” he quips and I look up at the ceiling, fighting the urge to hang up.

“You realize it’s like eleven o’clock?”

“It’s two a.m. here, you don’t hear me whining like a little bitch.”

“Married life has turned you into a smartass,” I sigh.

“Married life has turned me into a happy, satisfied man,” he argues.

“If you’re so satisfied what are you doing calling me instead of lying in bed doing your wife?”

“Just got done with that. Left her purring, got up when she started snoring. Though, for fuck’s sake don’t tell Toi she snores. You tell her that shit and I’ll gut you.”

“Whatever,” I laugh. “How are Toi and the kids?”

“Good man. Really fucking good. Toi’s pregnant again.”

“Jesus, you’re planning on populating your own damn country, old man.”

“We’re done after this one. Toi wanted another one and what my woman wants, I’m sure as fuck going to give her.”

“Hell, you sound like a damn Hallmark card.”

“If they had a line where you could cuss like a sailor and fuck from sun-up to sundown maybe. Tell me what’s going on with you,” he says, suddenly turning to business and when Marcum goes to business, you know it. His whole demeanor changes.

“Need to burn a marker man,” I tell him and this is a decision I’ve been wrestling with. It’s not an easy one, but it’s something I need to do.

“Max mentioned that whacked out, dick-shriveler has reared her head again.”

“She’s got to have someone behind her, someone with enough money to keep pulling this shit. I just don’t know who. I’ve racked my brain to go through the enemies I have that might do this crap, but I’m coming up empty,” I tell him, my frustration bleeding through every word.

“Don’t want to go wading into your shit, Mijo, but…”

“Nothing has stopped you before,” I tell him.

Marcum and I became tight years ago when I was asked to provide safe transport out of the country for his son Max and Max’s woman, who was running from the law. Max later changed his mind and decided to do his time, but I had it arranged and there was money spent by then. Marcum respected that, gave me a marker when I wouldn’t take his reimbursement. He’s been a friend I could depend on. I haven’t used that friendship, but right now it feels like I have my back against the wall.

“Why the fuck did you leave the protection of your club?” he asks and there goes that damn burning in my stomach again.

“It just seems there has to be someone in the club helping that bitch get so close.”

“Fuck, your men would die for you,” he says and my stomach double clutches and I have to keep from bending over with the pain inside.

“Some, yes. But, Marcum, man…” I sigh, trying to figure out my words before I continue. “A man in position of power attracts two types of people in their lives,” I answer and then I give him some more. “Men who respect it and men who want it. Sometimes it’s really fucking hard to figure out that last type.”

“Amen. I get that,” he says solemnly and he would. He’s been there.

Exactly there.

“Yeah,” I respond, letting the word hang between us.

“To lay it out then, I dissect the dick-shriveler’s life and find out every fucking thing and every fucking one she’s in contact with and follow the trail.”

“My men tried that. We hit dead end after dead end,” I tell him. “But, the bitch had money, big ass money in her bank. She’s coked out of her head on the best of days. There’s no way she has that kind of money with her habit. She’s being bankrolled brother, but near as I can tell there’s no paper trail at all.”

“Got it. Your connections are not my connections. I’ll dig so deep I’ll find the cockroach that’s laid claim and set up shop in her asshole.”

“Cockroach?”

“Has to be some reason that bitch is still alive. You can’t kill cockroaches,” he says. “Well you can, Mijo, I take that back. You just have to get inventive on how you do it.”

“Jesus, I didn’t realize it until this moment, but I’m starting to sound like you these days,” I tell him, remembering vividly the conversation I had with Rory about Vicki and calling her the same damn thing.

“Worse things, Mijo. Worse things. You need anything else?”

“No, man. I appreciate you doing this much. I need my boy safe, he’s all that matters in the world to me… at least he was.”

“Was? Now that sounds promising,” he says and I close my eyes thinking about Rory.

“It’s too damn late for this conversation,” I tell him.

“Never too late to talk about a good woman. I’m assuming that’s what we’re talking here. Of course, after the shit you’ve had I could see you thinking about swinging on the other side of the fence.”

“It’s a woman,” I tell him, smiling despite myself. “Rory McDaniels. Prettiest fucking woman you’ve seen in your life.”

“Sorry, man, but that would be the woman in my bed with my cum dripping out of her right now.”

“Christ too much information, brother,” I laugh.

“Never too much information between friends, so tell me about this Rory. You trust her?”

“I’m trying. Sometimes I fuck up, like I did earlier today. She knows jack shit about me. Doesn’t even know who I am. She knows a little about Vicki, but has no idea the hell she put me through and I didn’t exactly explain about Violet either.”

“Breaking that down, you have her in the dark.”

“Yeah,” I sigh, pushing my fingers through my hair and getting it out of my eyes.

“Women don’t like being kept in the dark, brother.”

“Figuring that one out,” I admit. “She’s had her own drama in the form of a fucked-up ex and a brother that’s involved, too. Haven’t got the whole story, did meet the ex and what I met wasn’t good.”

“Damn.”

“It ended with me taking some frustrations out on the bastard and Rory swearing out restraining orders.”

“Bet that was a sight to see since I know you have a smorgasbord of frustration.”

“It felt pretty damn good at the time,” I admit.

“You should have handled your ex like I did that bitch Jenna,” Marcum says.

“Wanted to protect my boy. Was hoping Vicki would get her nose clean and put her child first. Fucked that one up, I admit.”

“I hear you. I’ll get started on reaming out her shit and finding the cockroach,” he says and I half smile, shaking my head. The fucker has a colorful way of looking at things.

“Thanks man,” I tell him.

“So, freebie,” he says.

“Come again?”

“You helped me when I needed it, wouldn’t take compensation for that shit when you should have. So, I’m giving you a freebie.”

“Don’t need nothing else man,” I tell him.

“I’ll check out the situation with your lady friend. See what kind of hole she might be in.”

“You don’t need to do that,” I tell him.

“She mean something to you?” he asks and I let those words rest for a minute before I find the courage to answer.

“Yeah. She means something to me.”

“Then I’m going to check it out and I’ll do this one without a marker and because I just fucked my wife, got another baby on the way and when we get off this phone I’m going to go fuck her again. Life is good. Want to spread that around too,” he says.

“Not sure there’s a reason. Ex hasn’t showed back up since the beatdown. Chances are he ran out of here quick. He pled guilty to trespassing, paid fees out the ass, and no one has heard from him since.”

“I’ll still do it. I’m feeling giving because I just fucked—”

“Don’t need to hear that shit again, Marcum.”

“Maybe I just like repeating it,” he laughs. “Whatever, I’ll check it out, because you have the worst damn luck in the world when it comes to women. This would make me sleep better at night.”

“Funny you’d think fucking your wife would help you sleep better,” I say with a smirk.

“It probably would if she didn’t snore,” he jokes back.

“Thanks for the assist, man,” I tell him, my face going serious again.

“Be in touch, Mijo. Call your brothers—at least one that you trust. Do they even know where you are?”

“A couple probably do by now. They know I own a place here in Montana. I doubt they’ve told the others. I told them I’d be in touch in time… and I will. I’m just not ready yet,” I tell Marcum. He’s silent for a minute and I can almost hear the wheels turning in his head from here.

“Fair enough. I’ll check in soon. Might take a few days, but I’ll keep you in the loop.”

“Sounds good. ‘Preciate it man,” I respond.

“Later, Mijo.”

“Later, Brother.”

We hang up and I stare at my phone, willing Rory to call me.

She never does.