Chapter Six
Ozzy
All I see is red. Blood and bruises mark the body of this lovely woman, violent reminders of that creep lying in a heap on the floor and how he tried to violate her.
It takes all of my energy to sound calm while, inside, I rage and fantasize about how I’d like to bring that fucking bastard back to life just to kill him again. Slow and painful, the death he deserves for what he tried to do to Maria.
“It’s going to be ok. I’m here, now,” I whisper to her.
She’s in my arms, trembling. She’s always seemed like the kind of woman who was a rock — tough, smart, unshakeable — but here she is, quivering like a newborn lamb. It makes me rage.
I take a breath, hoping to cool the anger that’s burning in my heart like an out of control forest fire. What she needs right now is calm and comfort, and I need to give it to her.
“You’re going to be ok,” I repeat. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Maria is like iron — strong, but brittle, breakable, and this man pushed her to her limit. She looks at me now with wounded eyes that hurt my heart, but I can already feel her stiffen in my arms and regain some of that strength that’s defined her. “Thank you.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” I say, and I take her hand, and lead her to the bathroom.
It’s a nice bathroom — marble, tile, flashy tub, separate shower stall — and sparkling clean. I start the tap, check the temperature to make sure it’s soothing and warm, and hunt around for something to dab her clean. Unfortunately, all I see are white bath towels, white hand towels, and white robes. Not exactly the best stuff to go wiping blood with. And it feels wrong getting them dirty. The housekeeping staff does enough here keeping this place clean, the last thing those hardworking ladies need is some bloke like me turning this place into a total mess.
So I take my shirt off. It’s clean — mostly.
She gives me a look. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I don’t want to get your towels dirty. I reckon the last thing you want after all this is some extra charges from the hotel for spoiled linens.”
“Fucking seriously?”
“I’m just trying to be respectful. Of the housekeeping staff and you. I know I’d be fucking upset if I got attacked and billed for a bunch of bloody towels.”
“Hold on a second. Let’s forget about the towels for a second and start from the beginning: why are you here?” she says.
I wet my shirt and dab some of the dead man’s blood off her face. She startles at first — not wanting to be touched — so I move slow and careful, and make the same kind of hushing noise people do when they’re trying to calm a feral animal.
“I’m here because I’m supposed to kill you and the guy you’re working for,” I say, gently scrubbing her face and trying to keep my voice normal, like we’re having a regular chat. “But I didn’t know it was you when I came here. And I’m not going to kill you. Obviously. All I knew is what the court clerk we abducted told me, which was a pretty lawyer was staying here. Then I won the coin flip with Preacher to come check this place out — he’s here, too, by the way, except he’s off checking up on that other lawyer. I’m glad I got here in time.”
“God damnit, this is fucking insanity,” she murmurs.
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
She shakes her head, then turns and spits a dollop of blood into the sink. I suppress the urge to go into the other room and kick the dead man’s body.
“That doesn’t tell me the deeper reason about why you’re here. David Ardoin worked for the Dixie Mafia. For a bunch of southern hick criminal groups. What do you care about a man like him?”
Her face is clean now. She’s beautiful, even though she’s still looking wide-eyed like a caged animal.
I nod. “Gunney says they’ve done business with us in the past, and this Ardoin bloke’s got a lot of information that could implicate the club.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, it’s a mess, ain’t it?” I say.
“You know I can’t just let you just kill my client,” she says, taking a breath and looking way more composed. Even as frazzled as she is, she’s a beautiful sight — her hair just as wild as her eyes, her mouth set in a determined straight line. “For one, I don’t have that kind of access — he’s off in some high security lockup. For another, if this case goes tits up, so does my career. And guess what? I like my job. So the answer’s no.”
“You know that’s going to hurt a lot of people — Bear and Roxanna included — right? And me, too. I reckon you know deep down that this David Ardoin is a vile cunt who doesn’t deserve to get some sweet deal to escape punishment. Do the right thing here and don’t stand in our way.”
“So what? I just roll over, become complicit in murder, and help you set up some secret back-alley meeting with him, away from all the cops and feds guarding him?”
I love her stubbornness. Hate it, too. Especially right now. She’s pulling me in both directions — I’ve never wanted to fuck someone as much as I want to fuck her; I’ve never been as frustrated by someone as I am by her.
Calm down, Ozzy, I tell myself. Be a leader. Take control.
“We’ll figure something out. There’s got to be some solution that lets you off the hook and still protects the club. But in the meantime, I’m not letting you out of my sight. It’s too dangerous.”
She laughs. “So I’m going to show up to the courthouse tomorrow with an outlaw biker by my side and just expect things to go on like normal?”
“Yeah, nah. I don’t reckon anyone at the courthouse would be too keen on seeing you and me together like that. I’ll wear regular clothes — no cut, no patches, nothing to show I’m with the Kings — and if anyone asks, we’ll just say we’re dating while you’re here in town.”
“Wait — what? I’ll say I just met you on Tinder or something?”
She doesn’t sound convinced. But I don’t much care. There’s no way I’m going to just leave her in danger.
I nod. “Whatever lie works the best. It’s either that, or I just follow you around. One way or another, I’m going to do whatever I have to do to keep you safe. You’re too important to me.”
She frowns.
“That’s a lot to ask. And besides, I can take care of myself.”
I shake my head. “No. This isn’t a negotiation.”
She’s capable as hell, and in so many other situations, I’d trust her. Hell, I’d bet on her against most anyone, but I can’t walk away from this one. I doubt the dead man in the hallway is the only one that’ll be coming for her.
“So I don’t even get a say in this, huh?”
“No. I’m not going to lose you, Maria,” I say. “This situation is a lot more dangerous than you realize. Let me watch your back. If we have to tell everyone I’m your fake boyfriend, fine, whatever, I’ll take on that job. But I refuse to let anyone else lay another hand on you.”
Her frown softens, then breaks to a slight smile. She gets up on her toes, brings her now-clean face next to mine, and gives me a small kiss right on the cheek.
“Fine. You can be my bodyguard. Or my fake boyfriend. Or whatever.”
I grin, ear to ear like a bloody lunatic. “Fucking hell — it’s fake, but it feels good.”
“Thank you for saving me, Ozzy,” she says. She kisses me again, longer, enough to make my toes tingle and my knees feel weak. It’s a wonder I stay standing. She breaks the kiss and looks up at me, eyes big and bright. “Now, can we get that dead body out of my room?”