CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Rock has been my constant shadow for the past week. Even though he has kept himself very well-informed of Greybell’s whereabouts and knows the poor guy is still sitting in the county jail, he is very reluctant to let me out of his sight.
We never got back to our conversation about moving in together, but I’ve spent every night at his house since, so maybe he thinks we don’t need to discuss it. Heck, even I’m not sure if it needs to be discussed. I probably should move in with him and get it over with.
Something keeps stopping me. Every damn time I try to pack up Clay’s things, it’s so overwhelming I end up taking a nap instead.
Surprisingly, we haven’t spent a lot of time up at the MC lately. I think he’s trying to make up for the Tony Cain incident, even though I’ve made my peace with it.
The last few days have been similar to when we first started seeing each other. Just the two of us spending time together at his house.
I imagine Rock’s absence is pissing Wrath off something fierce. Since he’s still laid up with the broken leg, Z is the one who makes the trips to visit Rock when something comes up that needs his attention. I’m sure whatever truce Wrath and I may have put in place has been obliterated.
Feeling a bit claustrophobic yesterday, I put my foot down and insisted on going into the office. I really did need to grab some things to prepare for the upcoming hearing in Teller’s case. Rock agreed to let me go on the condition he went with me. Although I hate myself for it, I was relieved to have him there, because seeing the scene of the crime again sent me into a panic attack. Bless Rock’s heart, he kept his “told you so” to himself.
Today something came up that Rock couldn’t put off—although he refused to tell me what, and that is also a conversation we haven’t gone back to—so I skipped on out the door to my office by myself.
And found Hoot waiting for me on the front steps.
Seems I’m destined to have a chaperone whether I like it or not.
“Hoot, you must have more important things to do than play babysitter,” I scold as I let him in the office.
“Nope. Prez wants me here, I’m staying here. I promise not to get in your way, Hope.”
“I know you won’t. You want a soda or something?”
“I’ll get it. Go ahead and do your thing. Pretend I’m not here.”
Yeah, like that’s easy with his lanky, six-foot frame taking up the entire waiting area.
But eventually I fall into my work and manage to forget he’s out there. He’s a good bodyguard. Quiet and thoughtful. Rock’s trained him well.
A little after five, I hear someone at the front door. By Hoot’s tone, I know it’s Rock even before my ears catch the deep, gravelly tones of his voice.
Rock’s gaze locks with mine as I walk into the hallway to greet him. “Hey, baby doll. Prospect behave himself?” I notice he has this way of not even using the prospect’s club nickname when he addresses any of them.
Poor Hoot seems a little tense until I give an affirmative answer. “Absolutely. He’s been a perfect bodyguard. Didn’t even know he was here.”
“Good,” Rock jerks his head at the door, giving Hoot the signal that he’s free to go.
“Take care, Hope.”
I breathe a little easier when I see Rock slip the deadbolt into place. He notices and flashes a tight smile. “You okay?”
I nod. “I’ll wrap up, and we can go.”
“Okay.”
I hear him following me down the hall. When I step into my office, a chill works over me. Before I know it, Rock’s arms slide around my waist, pulling me against his chest. He plants a kiss on the top of my head. “I missed you, today.”
“Missed you too. Everything go okay?”
“Mmhm,” he hums against my ear.
When we make it out to the parking lot, Rock stares at my car for a second. “I’d really like you on the back of my bike, baby,” he says softly. Even in the early evening light, the weight of his stormy gaze heats my skin.
On tiptoes, I reach up and give him a kiss. “I’ll be right behind you, promise.”
I am so not leaving my car here so I can be stranded at his house, no matter how hot he’s making me with his I-want-to-fuck-you-right-now eyes. The response I get is not surprising, but it does excite me. He pulls me tight and gives me a kiss to think about on the drive to his house.
When I pull into his driveway, he’s at my car door before I even shut the engine off. I get a kiss on the cheek before Rock turns and glances at the garage.
“What?”
He swings his gaze to me. “Nothing. You hungry?”
I wasn’t until he mentioned food, then my stomach rumbled.
“Yeah.”
Rock takes my briefcase along with all the other items I dragged back to his house and leads me inside. He sets my stuff in the living room and turns to me.
“Babe, what do you think about setting up an office here for yourself?”
I’m a little shocked. We never got back to that whole “moving in together” discussion. This seems like a compromise of sorts. Or maybe Rock is upset I rejected him the first time and doesn’t want to risk asking again?
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you spend a lot of your time here. So maybe you would be more comfortable if you had a space to work in in when you don’t feel like going to your office.”
I cock my head at him. “Where?”
He shrugs and glances down the hallway. “I got a spare room down here that’s just being used to store parts and stuff. I can move that stuff out to the garage.”
Wow.
“You sure? I don’t want to take up space you’re using. Honestly, Rock, I don’t need it. I can work from my laptop out here if I really need to. It’s not like I’m drowning in work anyway.”
He stares at me a little longer, then shrugs. “Think about it.”
We’re interrupted from talking about it by his cell phone going off. Before he gets it out, a second cell phone starts jittering across the table. He answers one and picks up the extra to check the number before flipping it open and closed. I’ve never realized he uses more than one phone, but it doesn’t surprise me for some reason. He holds up one finger at me and stalks into the kitchen while murmuring into the phone. I hear the back door open and shut, so I wander out to the kitchen. I can see him through the glass pacing back and forth in the mudroom, intent on the call.
I figure I’ll start dinner while I wait. A prickle of unease curls through my belly. Something is definitely up. I keep busy by rubbing a steak down with olive oil, rosemary and garlic, while heating up a cast iron skillet I find in a cabinet. Potatoes get diced and herbed, then thrown in the oven. I find some salad fixings and put that together in a big bowl. Finally, I’m ready to sear the steaks, but there’s still no indication Rock will be returning. I pull out my own cell phone and set it on the counter to use the timer. I’m terrible at judging how long to cook steaks, so I set the timer to sear each side for seven minutes.
While I’m waiting to turn the steaks, I consider Rock’s offer of an office in his home. Wandering down the hall, I push open the door to his spare room. It is indeed full of boxes and shiny parts. Even though it’s a lot of stuff crammed into the space, everything seems neat and orderly. My cell phone buzzes from the kitchen, and I run out to turn the steaks.
Rock finally returns. “That smells amazing, sweetheart.” He kisses my forehead before flashing a pained smile at me. “I really need to head out for a few. Are you okay here?”
My face must fall because he pulls me into a hug. “I’m sorry to run out after you just went to all this trouble. Will you wrap it up for me, and I’ll eat when I get back?”
Tears threaten to fall. I hate this. I hate it because he’s not going to tell me what’s going on or why he needs to leave so suddenly. I mean, at least if he was a doctor or something he could say “honey, I have a patient I need to see,” but he’s not going to tell me a thing. I can ask, but I know where that will get me.
“Yeah, of course,” I finally answer.
He knows. He knows damn well that I’m pissed and hurt, but he ignores it. “I need to run upstairs before I go.”
Whatever.
The timer goes off, and I turn the steaks off and plate them so they can rest for a few minutes before I slice into one. Dressed all in black now, Rock thunders back down the stairs while I’m taking the potatoes out of the oven. He’s tense and doesn’t give me a hug or anything else this time.
He stops at the door. “Either Hoot or Axel will be stopping by to check on you a little later.”
“How long are you going to be gone?” I ask. Why I bother, I don’t know.
“Not sure. Shouldn’t be long.”
Yeah, that’s real helpful.
Then he’s gone, and I eat dinner alone.
By the time I’m done, pissed off is a rather weak description of what I’m feeling. As I’m wrapping everything up, I accidentally knock my cell phone on the floor. I’ve done this a million times, but for some goddamn reason, this time the screen shatters.
“Frick!”
The phone is basically useless. I guess the phone is still working, but I can’t get it to do anything because I can’t work the stupid touch screen. I need my phone. I mean, theoretically Teller is my only client right now, and he has multiple ways to get in touch with me if he needs to. But my cell phone is the only number listed on my business cards, so the thought of not having it in working condition really freaks me out. I feel naked and vulnerable without it actually.
I glance at the clock. If I leave now, I have time to make it to the cell store at Stonewell Mall and get a new phone. I was due for a new one anyway, but I hate dealing with the hassle of sales people and all the other bullshit that comes along with it. Although, now I don’t have a choice.
There’s no sign of Hoot or anyone else, so after scribbling a quick note for Rock, I hurry to my car and head to the mall. Traffic is light, and I make it there in plenty of time before closing.
The girl who helps me is way too bubbly for this time of night. She inspects the screen and shakes her head. “Honestly, since it’s not covered by warranty, it will be cheaper to just upgrade.”
“I figured.”
She shows me all the new phones and I dither back and forth before finally choosing one.
“Normally we charge twenty-five dollars to move your contacts over, but since it’s just me tonight, I’ll do it for free,” she says with a conspiratorial whisper.
While she’s working, she frowns, then smiles at me. “Aw, that’s sweet. You and your man keep track of each other?”
“What?”
She gestures to the device my shattered phone is hooked up to. “You got that app Pinpoint installed on your phone. My sister and her husband use it. That way, she can call him when he’s passing the grocery store and ask him to grab milk,” she says with a giggle.
“Wait. What are you talking about?”
Her face falls, and suddenly the bubbly sales girl disappears into someone a little more uncomfortable. “Ah, it’s an app, to like, track someone’s phone. It’s not one that like monitors your texts and emails or stuff like that, though.”
Geez, you can do that to people? I shake my head. “But I didn’t install that.”
“Oh, well, sometimes people secretly install them on their spouse’s phone to find out if they’re cheating on them.”
My eyes fill with tears, and I have to choke back a sob.
Now she looks like she’d like to close up shop early and run home. “Ah, it looks like it was installed recently.”
I flash back to the day Rock met me after the CLE. Because of the Tony Cain fiasco and then the Greybell attack, I never did figure out how he’d found me there.
Sonofabitch!
I felt like shit for ruining the nice dinner Hope made and leaving her to eat alone. When this bullshit is over, I’ll think of a way to make it up to her.
I tried to get out of this meet. Spent forever on the fuckin’ phone trying to handle it from home. Fucking Green Street Crew. I’m tired of these little bitches jerkin’ me around. It’s why I’ve been workin’ so damn hard to line up an alternate pipeline so we’re not so dependent on these street punks.
Wrath is twisted as fuck that he can’t be at this meet. I’m not sure what poor Trinity had to do in order to keep him calm and at the clubhouse, but she’s someone else I’m going to have to show some appreciation real soon.
Would I feel better with Wrath there? Absolutely. Do I trust the rest of my guys? No doubt.
There’s no time to drive all the way to the MC, so we meet up in the parking lot of Crystal Ball.
Z, Dex, Murphy, and Bricks are waiting for me when I pull up. Teller is still dealing with Heidi drama, so I told him to stay put. Besides, if I bring too many guys, it will give GSC the impression they make me nervous. Z and Dex get in the SUV with me, while Murphy and Bricks will take their bikes. I don’t have to ask if everyone is armed. I do ask Z if he’s wearing a vest. He answers by yanking up his sweatshirt to show me the Kevlar.
“Who did you talk to, Z?”
“Some punk named Cheeky.”
I shake my head. “All to meet up with Gunner?”
“I think so. Jesus Christ, if I wanted to be dragged out of my house at all hours, I woulda been a doctor like my mama wanted,” Z snarks.
“I thought your mom wanted you to be a construction worker?” Dex asks from the back seat.
Z turns and flashes a grin. “Yeah, when she realized I wasn’t smart enough to be a doctor, she had to adjust.”
I knock him back to his side of the truck. “My gain.”
Z snorts.
“How pissed is Wrath?” I ask.
Dex chuckles. In my rear view, I spot him shaking his head.
Z’s the one to answer, though. “Fuckin’ livid, bro. Holy shit. You better go up there when we’re done.”
“Christ, I gotta check in with him like I’m a little fuckin kid?”
“This shit sucks all around,” Z says without any humor.
“I hear that.”
I steer the truck into Riverwalk Park, back to our usual meeting spot. Murphy and Bricks are right behind me. I spot a silver Cadillac and a black SUV farther back. I park near the exit facing out. Z gets out first and scans the area. Four GSC kids pop out of the SUV and Z’s body goes rigid, his hand moving to his back. Coming up alongside him, I tell him to chill under my breath.
As soon as I got out, one of the kids opened the Cadillac door, and I’m shocked as shit by who steps out.
“Loco, the fuck you doing here?” I call to the GSC street boss, closing the distance between us. His four little soldiers get all twitchy with their weapons, which makes my guys twitchy with theirs.
“Break off,” Loco shouts to his crew. I wave a hand at mine. Z comes up along side me.
“The fuck?” he mutters.
Loco is a tall, skinny black kid who doesn’t look all that threatening. But he didn’t get that name by accident. Street crews shake in their boots at the sound of his name. I respect the guy as far as we do business together. I don’t give a single fuck about him otherwise. He certainly doesn’t scare me. Then again, few people do.
I am curious about why the fuck he dragged me out here tonight, though.
“What’s goin’ on?”
He holds his hand out to give me one of his gangster handshakes. “How you doin’ Rock, it’s been a minute.”
“Yeah.”
His gaze slips to Z and he nods. “‘Sup VP?”
“Loco,” Z answers, with his own nod.
While Loco takes a second to survey my crew, I do the same. I spot Pinky and Kidd, but no Gunner.
Shocking.
Loco snaps his fingers, and a chunky, pasty kid shuffles forward. He’s got the gangster swagger down, but other than that, he looks as if he spends too much time sitting around inhaling cheeseburgers.
I’m seriously bored with this whole situation.
“I want you to meet Cheeky. He’s takin’ the drops from now on.”
I raise an eyebrow at that. “Gunner move up?” I ask, even though I’m fairly certain the answer is a big, fat “fuck no.”
Loco snorts. “Not exactly. More like what they call,” he glances at the shrubbery obscuring our view of the highway, “a lateral move.”
In their world, that could mean anything. I don’t care enough to press for more details.
I hold out my hand for Cheeky, who seeks Loco’s permission before taking it.
“Rock, I had another reason for this meet. I hear you tryin’ to move some stuff out West. If your crew got more product, I was hoping you’d offer it to us first before looking for other buyers.”
This is completely unwelcome news. Why the fuck Loco is up in my business is very concerning.
I shrug. “Thought you guys were tapped out.”
“No.”
“Where’d you hear that story?”
He gives me a level stare and cocks his head. “Let’s take a walk.”
Z bristles next to me. “It’s fine,” I tell him.
“Play nice,” Loco cautions Cheeky.
I nod to Dex, Murphy, and Bricks for them to join Z. “Mingle.”
Z shakes his head. “You leave my eyesight, I’m coming after you.”
“Got it.”
I jam my hands in my pockets and nod at Loco. We take a leisurely walk down to the river. The air has a bite to it, and the gentle rippling of the Hudson is completely at odds with what’s going on inside my head.
When we’ve gone far enough for our voices not to carry back to the rest of our crews, we stop and face each other. Not a lick of fear runs through me. Fuck, nothing is running through me. Mild curiosity mixed with a hint of irritation, maybe.
“Look, Rock, I know you think we’re just a bunch of street punks,” he starts, then nods when I don’t agree or disagree. “That’s true for a lot of them. Me, I grew up with a different mindset. I got bigger ambitions.”
“Okay.”
“I’m telling you this so you understand why I know the shit I know. I ain’t fuckin’ playin’, man. You got access to more product, we want it.”
I keep my face completely neutral even though I’m seriously fucking pissed. “No problem. I thought you had all you could handle.”
“Yeah, Gunner was fuckin’ lazy.”
“Kidd and Pinky ain’t much more helpful, from where I’m standing.”
He narrows his cold eyes at me. “Kidd’s my blood, man.”
I don’t give an inch. “Sometimes blood is the most unfaithful and disloyal relation you’ll ever have.” I’m not fucking joking either. No one can fuck you over worse than blood relatives.
He takes a step back and looks at me like my words made him shit his pants.
“I got mad respect for you, Rock. Your fuckin’ crew is solid. Loyal. I want to understand how you made that happen.”
Seriously? I don’t even have words for how surreal this conversation is. Is he telling me he took a run at one of my brothers and came up empty? The thought that he might have tried makes me want to empty my clip in him right this second.
“We’ve been through a lot of bad shit together. Trust. Like you said, loyalty. Always got each other’s backs.”
Loco nods at me like there has to be more to the story. It’s like he’s asking me to explain what makes a good human being and what makes a bad one. I don’t fucking know. It depends on your perspective. I’m sure your average citizen thinks I’m a lowlife criminal, while a more hardcore criminal might think I’m a sopping wet pussy.
“You’re confident that if I stepped to you right this second your guys would put a bullet in each one of my guys’ brains, right?” he asks.
Yeah, I’m not liking this conversation. At all.
“I ain’t threatening you, Rock. I’ve got genuine curiosity.”
“Something like that.”
“What’s your end goal?”
“Family, freedom. I don’t give a shit about much more than that, Loco.”
“Not money?”
“Got that.”
“Not enough that you don’t have to roll out to meet me.”
I snort at that. “You got me there.” I think more about what he’s actually saying. “You trying to tell me you wanna be a kingpin, Loco?” There’s a sarcastic edge to my voice, but Loco either doesn’t catch it or straight up ignores it.
“Yeah, man. And I think you can be a part of that.”
Aw, I’m flattered.
“You got a woman, Rock?” When I don’t answer, he chuckles. “By that face you makin’, you dizzy on some dame enough that you want to slit my throat for even askin’ ‘bout her. Why just one, when you can have your pick of them fuckin’ dancers you got in your club?”
“Are you asking for dating advice?”
That makes Loco laugh pretty fuckin’ hard. “No.”
If this conversation goes on much longer, no amount of breathing exercises will stop me from killing this fuck. “How much more weight can you handle?”
“All you got.”
I stare at him. “You know we’re a small operation.”
“Not that fuckin’ small from where I’m standin’. Best shit in the state. Probably the East Coast.”
I don’t doubt it. Sparky takes his crops seriously. But I don’t like the idea of Loco talking us up to anyone outside of the area.
“I got a few other obligations, but I’ll talk to Sparky. We can probably come up with five crates on the same schedule.”
“That’ll work, man. Why you wanna cart that shit out West, when we be right here?”
“Told you, thought you were at capacity.”
“These other obligations?”
This I won’t budge on. “MC ties, non-negotiable.”
“Even if I could triple what you’re getting?”
Fuck. “Yeah, even then.”
“See, a man who isn’t motivated by money unnerves me, Rock. I don’t get that mindset.”
There’s a lot of shit about Loco I don’t “get” nor do I ever want to. “To what end do you want the money, Loco?”
“Dude, I won’t rest ‘til I’m sittin on a big ol’ pile o’ cash. You feel me?”
“Sure.” Yup, known plenty of guys like that.
“Besides that, it’s security for me and my kids. You got kids, Rock?”
“No.”
“Ah, maybe that’s why you’re so content. You got a kid, man, you look in their eyes and want to do better for them than was ever done for you. Make sure they don’t struggle.”
Holy fuck. All right then. He’s most definitely some sort of sociopath, but I guess Loco’s not a complete soulless fuck. Good to know.
“Everyone’s gotta struggle a little bit, Loco, or they never appreciate what they have.”
He stops and takes that in. “Yeah, good point.”
We walk back up to the guys and work out the logistics of the new arrangements with Cheeky. I’m feeling some serious what-the-fuck coming from Z. I’m assuming he thinks the club should have voted this.
Loco dismisses his guys, and I nod for everyone except Z to hang back.
“You cool working with Cheeky?” Loco asks.
I’m shocked he cares about my opinion. Cheeky seems soft and easy to manipulate so…“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Cool.”
He gives me another gangster handshake. “Let’s not wait so long to meet up again.”
Yeah, I can’t wait.
I’m not as fond of the f-word as Rock is. To him, it’s a medium he uses to create all sorts of artful expressions.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
My use of the word tends to be more prosaic.
Rock fucking bugged my phone. Holy frick! Did I suddenly end up in some twisted, made-for-television movie and no one told me?
That Rock thinks I would ever cheat on him and he needs to monitor me makes me completely rage-crazed. Like, I wish to God I had the same app installed on his phone, so I could track him down and choke the life out of his Cro-Magnon, cave-dwelling ass.
There’s no way in hell I am driving back to his house. I don’t want to go to my house, though, either, because I’m sure it’s the first place he’ll look when he realizes I didn’t come back to his house.
I honestly think this is it for me. The last straw. Time to get off this ride of crazy before I end up sequestered away at the MC tied to his fucking bed like a damn hostage.
This shit actually scares me.
After finding out that he tagged me like some damn dog—on top of the fact that he took off to do who-knows-what dangerous mission tonight—I think I’ve had enough. As I check into the nearest Holiday Inn, I’m filled with a grim glee that he’s going to freak the fuck out when he can’t find me.
Hope hasn’t answered my calls or texts, so I assume she gave up waiting for me and went to bed. At least I want that to be true. The more likely scenario is she’s pissed at me and not answering on purpose.
She can be cute that way.
My ass is dragging as I drive Z and Dex back to CB. Dex gives me a fist bump before he leaves. Z sticks around.
“Prez, the fuck?”
“I don’t like it any more than you, brother.”
The more I think of the conversation, the less I like what I heard. My takeaway is this: Loco is a goddamn sociopath. While he might like me or even respect me in his own twisted way, he’d have no problem gutting me if I was standing between him and a slice of his favorite cake. The fact that he basically ascertained the only way to hurt me—through my loved ones—is also not sitting well.
Suddenly any games Hope might be playing don’t seem as funny.
I’m consumed with an urgent need to see her.
“Listen, I didn’t like some of the shit he was saying. How he knows what feelers we got out there ain’t exactly making me happy. I also got the impression he tried to pry some info out of one of us, and since no one has stepped up and said anything, I’m concerned.”
Z blows out a long breath
“That’s bad.”
His phone buzzes in his hand. “It’s Wrath.” He answers and puts it on speaker phone.
“What the motherfuck, Z? I’ve been going nuts. Everyone whole?” his voice booms through the car.
Normally, I’d have a good chuckle over his reaction, but I’m not feeling very comical tonight. “We’re good, brother,” I answer.
“Rock, you dick. You coulda at least let me ride along.”
“And do what, watch if Loco decided to blow us up?”
“Fuck you. I’m not an invalid. What are you talking about? Loco came?”
“Yeah. Wanted to introduce Gunner’s replacement.”
Wrath snorts. “Knew that little shit wouldn’t last long.”
“Also wanted to let me know he was onto our Western connection and that he wants it.”
“Fuuuck.”
“Yeah.”
“You tell him yes for now?”
“Of course,” I answer, throwing a glance at Z.
“I’ll call everyone in for church tomorrow,” Wrath says.
“I’ll do it, brother. It’s my job,” Z answers.
“We seem to have flipped jobs, bro, if you haven’t noticed,” Wrath says with a glum laugh.
Catching Z’s eye, I shake my head slightly. Let Wrath do this.
“Thanks man,” Z says.
“You guys comin’ back here?” Wrath asks.
My hesitation says everything. “Fucking bring her with you, Rock. I’m sure Trin wouldn’t mind some alternate company.”
I choke on a laugh over that. I’m sure she’d be relieved to hang out with someone else.
“Tomorrow, I promise.”
We sign off, and Z glances at me. “Is Hope doing okay?”
“Yeah.”
He slaps me on the shoulder as he gets out. “Go give her a special wake-up call, prez.”
“I plan to.”
I do not plan to come home and find Hope’s car gone from my driveway. Storming inside, I find the place cleaned up and a note waiting on the counter for me.
Broke phone. Running to mall to get a new one.
Love, Me.
So that explains why she didn’t answer any of my texts earlier. Maybe. Since it’s almost midnight and she’s not back yet, my stomach churns. The mall closes at ten. It’s less than five miles from my house. There is no way she shouldn’t be back by now.
Maybe she came back and got pissed when she realized I was still out?
Something’s wrong.
I got that fucking conversation with Loco messing with my mind. Asking about my woman. Trying to get inside my head. He could have had his crew come here and nab Hope while I was at that bullshit meet and greet. I pull out my personal phone and call up the app that will give me an idea of where to find my girl. When I had Z install it on her phone, I swore I’d only use it when necessary.
Now feels very fucking necessary.
I get nothing. Nothing. No blip. No message saying “unavailable at this time.” Nothing.
My eyes drift to the note. Fuckingfuck! The fucking app won’t be on her new phone. I try calling her, and it goes straight to a generic voicemail. Jesus Christ, this is the worst possible timing.
I glance at the note and then my phone again. No.
Maybe she needed to go her house for some reason.
She’s not at her house.
I don’t have Sophie’s number on me, but I do remember where she lives. It’s really fucking late by the time I get there. No sign of Hope’s car. I struggle with whether I should wake Sophie up, but after that scene at the Judge’s fundraiser, I decide it’s wiser not to. She’s an extra complication I don’t have the patience for right now.
God dammit. Instead of tracking Hope’s phone, I should have rigged her fuckin’ car.
I swing by her office on my way home just in case, but the parking lot is empty. I manage to grab maybe an hour of sleep before I head back to Hope’s house and wait.
At ten in the morning, she rolls into the driveway.
Shock, clear as day, is written all over her face when she sees me.
Her body is tight and controlled, even though she’s pretending to be carefree.
I amble up to her. “Mind telling me where you’ve been?”
“Oh, couldn’t you track me on your phone?” she questions in that angry-sarcastic way of hers that usually gets me rock hard in two seconds.
Not today.
“No.”
She unlocks the door and miraculously lets me inside. Well, I follow her in so close, she doesn’t have a choice. I seem to be doing that a lot lately.
As soon as we’re inside, she whirls around and starts grilling me. “So you admit you installed an app on my phone to track me?”
“Yes.”
I figure honesty will keep her simmering anger from boiling over. She’s got me. No point lying.
“How can you think I would ever cheat on you?”
Okay, that’s unexpected. “What?”
“I’m with you all the time—”
“Baby, that’s not why. I’m worried about you.” Doesn’t Hope realize by now how much I fucking care about her? I know how loyal my girl is. I’d never spend a second thinking she’d step out on me. “What if Greybell had succeeded in throwing you in his trunk and I needed to find you?”
She cocks her head.
I try to explain it another way. “I worry about something happening to you—”
Her face twists in anger. “This. This right here, Rock, is why I can’t move in with you. This scares me.”
Thunk—the sensation of my heart free-falling into my stomach. Hope scared of me fucking hurts.
“Baby, how can you say that? I want to make sure you’re safe.”
“Because it’s fucking creepy!” she explodes.
I can’t figure this out. “It’s not a way for me to spy on you. But if something happened and I needed to find you, that’s the only time I would use it.”
“You should have asked me, told me, talked to me about it. Not just do it behind my back.”
“I got enemies, Hope.”
I don’t want to scare her, so I stop there. But this shit last night with GSC. Our beef with the Vipers getting stirred up again. The crash after the fight. Hope going out alone all the time to meet her clients. Clients fucking attacking her in her own damn office, for fuck’s sake...I need this extra protection on my girl. I can’t tell her all of this, though. I don’t want to risk her deciding it’s too dangerous for us to be together.
“I’m not a fucking dog you can micro-chip, Rock. I’m a human being. It’s like you don’t respect me at all.”
Now I’m pissed. I respect her more than any woman I’ve ever known. Love her more than any person—ever.
“It’s not about respect. You’re everything to me, Hope. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She falters, her anger disappearing for a second. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, so where’s my app? Where’s my way to track you down if something bad happens to you—which by the way, is far more likely, Mr. leaves-the-house-all-hours-of-the-night-without-telling-me-why.”
What she’s suggesting is fucking insane. Holy fuck. That’s all I would have needed last night was Hope—lovely, beautiful but reckless Hope—rolling up on Loco and his trigger twitchy crew during our bizarre friendly, but not so friendly, standoff. “That would be a bad idea, Hope,” I say as plainly as possible.
“Of course it would be. You’d never want me to know where you are.” Her furious face is red but still beautiful, and for a moment I’m distracted. She waggles her fingers in the air between us, drawing my attention to her words. “We’re not equals in this.”
“Jesus Christ! It’s not about that at all, Hope.”
“Then explain it to me.”
“I can’t.”
She pauses and considers my refusal before asking her next question. “Would you do something like this to Wrath?”
“What? How is that even relevant?”
“Would you spy on him without telling him?” she persists.
“I wasn’t spying on you!”
“Answer me.”
“Babe, no one is going to kidnap him. It’s not the same thing.”
“I can’t tell if you’re being deliberately obtuse or you really are this dense. Either way, I need you to leave.”
She folds her arms over her chest.
“No.”
She arches a brow at me. “No?”
“I didn’t do anything wrong, Hope.”
She strides over and opens the door. “Get out. You went too far this time, Rock. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore. Please go.”
Words fail me, so I walk out the door.