11. Chapter 11
Ishift in my chair as I stare at the belligerent man across from me. I guess I’d be the same way if I found out the guy that’s been shaking me down is also hanging out with my little girl.
“My point is that some unknown group of people are pissed enough to kill to get back what’s theirs,” I say. “And trust me, whoever this is, isn’t acting alone. This could be gang or mob related.”
“But not your gang,” Paulie says flatly.
I haven’t checked in with Hangman yet, but it isn’t the Jury’s handiwork. “Not my club, no. That’s not how we do things.”
Paulie opens his mouth, but X grabs his hand and squeezes. “Let him talk.”
“Whatever Miguel has lost is important to some very bad people who don’t give a fuck?—”
Paulie grits his teeth. “Do not swear in front of my daughter. Show some respect.”
I nod. I only have myself to blame for getting into this mess. “Sorry,” I say, trying to sound sincere. “X isn’t safe. Miguel’s friends aren’t safe. And maybe you aren’t safe either.”
“You should close the shop today, Pops. Come with us,” X says.
Paulie looks at his daughter with narrow eyes. “No. That’s not what Belmontes do. We don’t turn tail at the first sign of trouble. I’m staying here, keeping the shop open. Business as usual.”
I shift in my chair. “Paulie.”
He holds up his hand to stop me from talking. “I’m not an idiot. If I lock up shop and take off, whoever is after whatever they’re after is going to think it’s me and Ximina. My girl is right though. I pay you exorbitant rates for your so-called protection. So you and your club will protect us and figure out what’s going on.” He looks at his watch. “Shanna will be here any minute so we have to wrap this up.”
He twists the mug in his hands, his brow furrowed. It’s clear he doesn’t like me, doesn’t want me involved, but he has no choice. And that’s pissing him off.
“What’re you doing next?” he mutters.
“I’ll keep X with me?—”
“No. She stays here.”
X interrupts. “No. I go with Reaper. I’ll be safe as long as we’re together. We have to go to the college.”
“Then to the clubhouse to talk to Hangman,” I add.
Paulie rolls his eyes. “Hangman. What are you? Twelve?”
If he wasn’t X’s father I’d reach across the table and drag him over to me. “One day, when I’m not busy saving your daughter’s ass, I’ll explain the purpose and value of road names. In the meantime, I’m going to talk to the president of Hell’s Jury, Hangman, who’s the best strategist I know. He and some of my brothers can get to the bottom of this fast.”
A rap on the front door gets our attention.
“Shanna’s here,” Paulie says. “Time to open up.” He looks at Spot who’s hired himself out as the door greeter. “You still haven’t explained why he’s here.”
“I don’t know,” I reply irritably. “I’m gonna drop him off at a fire station on my way to the college.”
Paulie takes a last slurp of his coffee as X and I stand. X leans over and gives her dad a buss on the cheek. “We’re gonna sort this out, Pops.” She glances back at me with a scowl. “All of it.”
Why’s she pissed? “What?” I say defensively as we walk out the back door.
“What? I should be happy you’re taking my pop’s hard-earned money?”
I sigh. “I didn’t forget. Can we have that conversation after we make sure our throats won’t be slit in our sleep?”
“Sure. It can wait, but it will happen.”
She shudders as I open the truck door. “I don’t think I can go back to my place.”
Spot slides by and jumps inside moving over to the passenger side. I don’t like the fact that it’s becoming routine.
“It’s better that way, anyway,” I tell her. “No one in their right mind should live in an apartment.”
“That would make half the world insane,” she throws back at me as she hops into the truck.
My eyes slide to her ass. It really is magnificent. “You heading the charge.”
She grins at me, the animosity towards me a minute ago already forgotten. “I like you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I reply as I slide behind the wheel and slam the door. “Don’t be so subtle.” I’m more pleased with her words than I should be.
“You don’t be so subtle,” she comes back as she fumbles with the seat belt. “I saw you looking at my ass.”
“Now you have eyes in the back of your head.”
“Pfft. It’s an Italian thing.”
“The ass or the eyes.”
“The ass is Mexican.”
I glance at the time as I pull away from the curb. “We’ll go to the college first.”
“I’d rather shower and change.”
My heart takes a small leap at the idea of her wet and naked. I can’t figure it out. I’m usually cool inside and out, but this little Latina raises my blood pressure simply by breathing. I don’t like it. “Where you gonna do that?”
“I’m assuming you have a shower.”
“Yeah, but you’re not using it.”
Her sly smirk gets me riled. “Worried you can’t control yourself around me?”
She’s hit the nail on the head. “I don’t wanna throttle you until we get to your locker.”
“That’s your idea of foreplay, hey?”
I almost tell her to piss off. I don’t do girls like her. I like them easy to get along with. I like everything easy. She ain’t easy.
“Fine. My place. But you shower and change and that’s all.”
She shakes her head at me. “I also need breakfast.”
“You ate breakfast.” I take a left turn down the rabbit warren my house is on.
“I ate part of a calzone if you recall. You and Spot ate the rest.”
“Oh, yeah.” I grin, taking a right too fast, which rocks her towards Spot then into me. She grabs my thigh to steady herself. It’s a little too close to my dick and it reacts in a way that’s obvious to anyone looking. She’s fucking looking.
“Cut it out,” I growl.
“It’s a double standard. You can look at my ass, but I can’t look at your…” She pauses as she waves her hand towards my crotch. “Goods.”
I laugh and then wonder at that. Laughter makes me edgy. I don’t like it. “Get your hand off my thigh,” I mutter.
She slowly moves it to her lap.
I fucking finally arrive at my house, pulling up the drive and into the garage. I wait in the truck while the garage door closes, then step out. “Wait here until I check out the place. I want to make sure no one’s hiding under the bed.”
I pull my gun and walk slowly around the garage keeping a close eye on the door to the rest of the house. The garage is undisturbed, so I cautiously head inside. I’m not doing this just for X. It’s routine for me.
My house is as open as it can get so it’s easy to see the living room, dining room and kitchen in one glance. I walk carefully to the middle of the area and check out the nooks and crannies to be sure, then take a step back and bump into something solid. “Jesus fucking Christ,” I growl without turning. “Do you ever listen to anyone?”
Her hands are gripping my waist to keep herself steady and once again, my body reacts. I decide I should throttle her and get it over with when Spot slips by me and whines at the patio doors. “What’s he want?” I demand as I grab her arm and slide her next to me.
She shrugs out of my grip, then marches over to the door, unlatches and opens it. “What every dog wants. Food, water, affection and a good poop in the morning.”
She turns her back to the open glass door and smirks at me.
Gun still in my hand, I move swiftly, yanking her away. My heart’s in my throat as I think of her getting hurt. “You don’t stand in front of a fucking piece a glass with your back turned. That’s how you get shot.”
She lets me drag her back to the middle of the room. “It’s not how I’ve ever been shot.”
I ignore her as I haul her with me down to the bedrooms. There are two and I check the empty one first. It’s got nothing in it, not even a spare set of shoes. Still holding her, I check the closet then move across the hall to my bedroom. It’s big enough, a double bed, a dresser. A closet. Nothing special, but X is looking at it like it’s a curio shop. Should have made the bed, but in fairness, I wasn’t expecting company.
“You should get a picture or two,” she observes.
That gets my back up. “You are the first fucking woman who’s crossed the threshold, so keep your opinions to yourself.”
She side-eyes me. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
I already knew that, but she could’ve let it go. “Fuck,” I mumble as I check the closet and then go back to the hall. Two rooms left. The bathroom, then across from that, the laundry room. There’s a closet between the two but it has shelves. Unless the guy’s two feet tall, it’s safe to assume it’s clear. Nothing in the laundry room or bathroom than what’s supposed to be there.
I put the safety on my gun and slide it into the back of my jeans.
“Aren’t you worried you’re going to shoot your butt off?” she asks looking at my ass far longer than is polite.
“I don’t want to give into the temptation of using it on you.” I push her into the bathroom. “Shower and change. I’ll get Spot inside.” It sounds too fucking domestic to be talking about Spot, so I add, “Hopefully he’s done me a favor and got run over by a car.”
“Despite his unfortunate breed, he’s pretty smart. He knows not to step in front of moving vehicles.”
“How smart can he be? He’s following us around?”
“Exactly,” she says as she closes the door in my face.