Chapter 12
FARRIS
I haven’t seen or heard from Calypso in months.
At first, I didn’t think much about it. The Royal Harlots have their own shit to handle, just like we do. But as the days stretched on with no texts, no calls, no showing up out of the blue like she always does, the silence started to eat at me.
Calypso isn’t the sentimental type. Hell, neither am I. But something about this feels wrong.
Two months since our ride. Two months since she let her walls down. Since she let me in. And now? Nothing. I try to be rational. She could be busy. She could be sick. She could be purposely keeping her distance. But instinct tells me it’s something else.
I’m cleaning up the bar, restocking the shelves, trying to ignore the gnawing in my gut, when I overhear Capone and Blayze talking.
I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but the second I hear Calypso’s name, I freeze.
“Calypso say anything about the ex?” Capone asks, nursing a whiskey.
Blayze grunts. “Not much. But I know the bastard’s been sniffing around. Red has caught him a few times tailing Calypso while she’s on a run.”
My pulse spikes. Dave Train, the asshole ex-husband she told me about once, in a rare moment of vulnerability. The man who made her life hell back in New York.
“Calypso can handle herself,” Blayze continues, but I hear hesitation in his voice. “But if he’s here, she won’t tell anyone. She’s too damn stubborn.”
My fists clench at my sides. Is that why she hasn’t reached out? Is she in trouble?
I open my mouth to demand answers, but Capone’s gaze snaps to me. His dark eyes pin me in place. “The fuck you doing prospect?”
I swallow hard. “Just grabbing a drink.”
Blayze smirks. “Then grab it and get the fuck out.”
I nod, forcing myself to walk away, but my mind is racing. She didn’t tell me. Calypso didn’t tell me her ex is around.
I should be pissed, but all I feel is worry. She’s been dealing with this alone, and now that I know that shit’s not gonna fly.
Frustration gnaws at me for the next few days. I need to see Calypso, to demand some fucking answers. But before I can act on it, the fight finds me first.
It’s a late-night store run for the club, nothing special. We’re picking up beer, liquor, smokes and whatever other bullshit the patch members need. Just a way to get out of the clubhouse and bond with the other two prospects, Knight and Seth.
Knight scrubs a hand down his face. “Fuck, have you seen some of the Harlots lately?” Knight is Daisy’s twin brother she found a few years ago.
Seth grins. “French is smoking hot.”
These two haven’t earned road names yet, but they’re getting close.
“Yo, Law Dog,” Seth whistles, shifting in his seat. “Who’s your favorite Harlot?”
Knight snorts, Gibb’s slapping Seth on the back of the head. “You’re an idiot. Are you so busy watching Exleigh and not paying attention? His Harlot is Calypso.”
Seth smirks, rubbing his hands together while propping his feet on the dash. “Have you tapped that yet?”
I roll my eyes and throw the SUV into park. “I’ll be back. Do you dickwads need anything?”
“Skittles and a Coke,” Seth replies, grinning like an idiot. “Gotta keep the sweets for the bunnies.”
“The way you fawn over Exleigh, no bunny will come near you. Not after the way Pearl has been handed her ass a few time.” Knight shakes his head. “Nah, brother, I’m good.” He pulls out his phone, already tuning us out.
I climb out of the SUV, shutting the door behind me. These two are a riot. Knight is always giving Seth a hard time about one of the girls who is staying at the Clubhouse, Exleigh.
She and Syvannah are two of the girls that were kidnapped by some asshole named Lattimer, who kidnapped Red’s Ol’ Lady, Nadia. He did some serious damage to the two women, and they’re still trying to find their way.
In my opinion, which I won’t say out loud, Exleigh has more demons she’s battling besides the kidnapping and repeated abuse.
The way she has been sneaking liquor when she thinks no one is looking is a big red flag.
I noticed her doing it because I was a detective, and that part of my brain doesn’t stop.
I don’t know if anyone else has, though.
I get everything on our list, including Seth’s Skittles and Coke, pay the cashier, and step out into the night air.
That’s when it hits. That slow, crawling feeling at the back of my neck. The gut instinct that something’s coming.
I barely have time to react before a fist slams into my jaw.
Pain explodes through my face, sending me staggering back. The bags drop, glass shattering against the pavement.
“Son of a bitch.” Another hit to my ribs is hard enough to steal my breath. I catch a glimpse of my attacker. He’s tall and wiry but strong, with wild eyes and a sneer on his thin lips.
Dave fucking Train.
I recognize him from a photo Calypso shared with me on the same night she told me about him.
I swing, catching him on the side of the head. He grunts but doesn’t go down.
“You took what’s mine,” Dave snarls, grabbing my cut and yanking me forward. “She is mine!”
Rage floods my veins. I shove him off, fists raised, every nerve in my body on fire. “She was never yours, you sick fuck.”
Dave charges again, but this time, I’m ready for him. I block his punch and drive my fist into his gut, making him double over.
Footsteps pound against the pavement. Another guy rushes me, slamming a knee into my ribs. Pain explodes through my side, but I stay on my feet, swinging wildly.
The second blast catches me in the side of the head, and my vision blurs. I stumble long enough for the two to drag me into the darkness. A knife flashes under the dim street light. I barely dodge the blade as it slices through my shirt, nicking the skin underneath.
Where the fuck are Knight and Seth? They should’ve heard this shit by now. I need to end this fast.
I feign left, then drive my knee into Dave’s groin. He releases a strangled curse, doubling over. I grab his collar and smash my forehead against his nose.
The sound of bones crunching is satisfying as hell. The second guy hesitates long enough for me to whip out my gun tucked at my back.
“Try me,” I growl. My breathing is ragged, my chest is heaving. He backs off, hauling Dave to his feet. Blood streams down his face, but he’s still smiling.
“This isn’t over,” Dave spits out. “She’ll never be free of me.”
I take a step forward. “Next time I see you, you won’t be walking away. That’s a promise.”
Dave’s sneer falters, and approaching footsteps come pounding behind me. I don’t even have to turn around to see who it is. Dave disappears into the shadows, his friend dragging him along.
I stand there for a moment, adrenaline still roaring through me. My fists ache, and my ribs hurt like hell.
“What the fuck, bro?” Seth asks as he takes me in and sees the blood on the pavement.
I don’t answer. Instead, I pull my phone out of my cut and dial the only number that matters.
Calypso answers on the first ring. Her voice is tired and weak. “Farris?”
I exhale, a mix of anger and relief crashing over me. “What the fuck is going on with you?”
Calypso hesitates and then answers softly. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
It’s too late for that. I clench my jaw, staring at the bloody pavement beneath me. “Meet me.” My voice is low, deadly. “Now.”
Whatever the hell is going on, her medical issues, her ex, all of it, I’m not letting her deal with it alone. Not anymore.