Chapter 32
Karma Police
We arrive at The Precinct, and the twisting in my stomach intensifies.
The car ride over here was eerily quiet, with the boys sharing looks I didn’t understand or like.
For once, I was allowed the back seat to myself, and that in itself was strange.
No Cruz making jokes or teasing me with feather-light touches that he knows drive me wild.
I had way too much time to think, and that’s not good for anyone when the tension was so thick between them.
Cruz tugs me closer to his side as we walk through the bar, his arm wrapping protectively around my waist. The patrons watch me like hawks with their steely gazes.
“I still can’t see why we couldn’t have left Daisy to have her massage at the day spa while we sorted this shit out. She shouldn’t be in this place.”
Jagger casts a stern look in our direction. “The only people I trust to watch over her are in this building. That’s why, genius,” he grumbles as he shoves open the door to his office. Even he seems crankier than usual.
We follow him in to find Asher standing behind another man, who is quickly typing away at Jagger’s computer. “What’s she doing here?” Asher says, his usual flirty welcome for me nowhere to be seen. His face also doesn’t hide his concern, and his voice is panicked.
“Nice to see you too, Ash,” I grumble, feeling more uncomfortable by the second. With all the tension in the air, I don’t want to be here any more than they want me here.
He moves toward me, a small smile breaking onto his lips as he takes my hand and pulls me into him for a quick kiss. “Always happy to see you, princess, just not ideal circumstances.”
“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” I ask, finding my voice, looking between them.
“What room is he in?” Jagger asks the guy behind the computer, ignoring my question.
The guy looks up, shoving his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
“Next door. Thought you all might want to hear what he has to say.” His assessing eyes lock with mine as he says the last part.
He’s a nice-looking man, dark hair and kind eyes, and holds a very obvious family resemblance to the other Stryker brothers, and I have to assume since no one has introduced us yet, this is the fourth brother, their tech whiz Mal.
“Daisy can stay with you two while Cruz and I deal with him,” Jagger orders, almost shoving me into Asher’s arms and out of Cruz’s tight grip on me.
It earns him a death glare from Cruz, but he doesn’t argue with the boss’s orders.
“Catch her up to speed, Mal,” he throws over his shoulder, then he’s out the door.
Cruz gives me a final glance before following him, and it’s a look of apology that sends a chill through me.
The door closes with a click, and I stare up at Asher, wondering what in the world is going on.
“Ash, I’m supposed to be face down on a massage table right about now, so there better be a good reason you lot have me in this place instead. ”
“Saving your life good enough for you?” The man behind the computer shakes his head, his words a little bitter. “I can see why you lot call her princess,” he grumbles then casts his glance back at the screen in front of him, clicking around on the keyboard as he focuses in on the screen.
“Saving my life?” I whisper, trying not to let the way my heart is now racing show on my face. I’m sure he’s just being dramatic. Right?
He looks up at me again and crooks his finger, signaling for me to come and look at the computer. “I’m Mal, by the way, since my brothers are too rude to have thought to introduce us,” he mutters in Asher’s direction.
Asher runs an uncomfortable hand through his hair, tugging the ends.
It’s then I notice the small damp splatters of something that looks a lot like blood on his crisp black button-up, and the damage on his knuckles like he’s been in some sort of fistfight.
“Ha, yeah, Malachi is the fourth brother. Sorry, guys, had other shit on my mind. I forgot you haven’t met. ”
“Hi,” I mutter, as I move around behind the computer, now too distracted for pleasantries.
Asher is all messed up, and now that I look closer, so is his brother.
What on earth have I walked into here today?
Mal has four screens open on his computer.
They all look like stills from video surveillance.
“What am I looking at?” I snip back, not impressed by his attitude toward me.
“The man who was following you and Jagger last week.” He points to the screen. “Jagger had me track him down. I have been tailing him ever since. He wasn’t just some random. He knew what he was doing and has been constantly stalking you since.”
Goosebumps scatter their way over my arms. “What—how do you know?” I look closer at the computer screen and see a man with a distinct snake tattoo running up his arm.
There is an image of him on his bike when he was tailing us, then another of him without his helmet on, talking on a payphone.
“I don’t recognize him,” I whisper, wondering how some guy could have been following me around and I didn’t even see him.
“He’s a serpent,” Asher interjects, his voice dripping with venom.
I blink back at him. “That doesn’t mean anything to me.”
Mal sighs heavily, as if he’s frustrated. “From a local gang. The Strykers and the Serpents have had beef for years. Mostly shit Enzo Moretti caused when he was still alive. We had it dealt with. They knew not to come into our town and cause shit, and that was working until a little more recently.”
I don’t like the sound of it, but I still don’t understand how they saved my life by bringing me here today to look at some surveillance. “Why is he following me?”
“I’ll let you listen to the call.” Mal types something into the computer, and it brings up an audio-type slider.
Asher squeezes my hand in his, his grip firm but comforting. “Maybe we should just give her the general idea. She doesn’t need to hear it word for word.”
Mal looks over his shoulder at his brother, his eyes narrowing, his face deadly serious in a way that makes him look like Jagger. “Boss wants her to hear it, so she hears it.” Mal presses play, and a voice fills the room.
“They fucking got away,” a man says, his voice rough like he’s been smoking his entire life; it also has a jumpy edge to it.
“Then find them. You have one more week to bring her home or our deal is off,” comes a voice that sends a shiver down my spine.
“My papa,” I gasp out loud, feeling instantly sick.
Asher grips my hand tighter. I can almost feel the way he’s looking at me with pity in his eyes.
“It’s not that fucking simple, old man. She’s hanging out with the Strykers.
I can’t get close enough to talk to her, let alone drug her and bring her home to Italy,” the first man growls.
His words fill me with sickness, and I know why Asher didn’t want me to hear this.
He was trying to protect me from the awful truth.
The reality of what my papa is willing to do to bring me home.
“Find a way.” My papa’s voice booms down the line.
“The girl’s hardly intelligent. She will leave herself vulnerable sometime, and when she does, you need to be there, ready to pounce.
” His voice is sharp and harsh, scary in a way I have never heard it sound before.
“I have a motherfucking wedding booked in for three weeks’ time, and it’s not going to happen without the bride.
That will be a motherfucking problem for both of us when he doesn’t get what he wants. ”
That part makes me flinch. I knew he would want me to marry again as soon as he knew Valentine was dead, but he’s already planning the wedding?
The weight of his words crash down on me like a ton of bricks, and I take hold of the desk to stop from going down when my head spins, Asher’s firm hold not enough. Who is the “he” they are talking about?
“Do I make myself clear? He comes after me, you will be next,” my papa growls out when the other guy doesn’t say anything back.
“I-l’ll find her,” he stutters, sounding like he’s about to shit himself. I never knew my papa to be someone who was feared, but in reality, I guess I never knew him all that well at all. The man I grew up with would never have done this to me.
“Report back to me when she’s on the plane.” My papa disconnects the call, and the line goes dead.
A searing pain courses through me, making my heart constrict.
My nails dig into the wooden desk. How dare he.
All my life I have been made to feel less-than, just a silly girl.
But this—this is unforgivable. There is no way in hell I will go back to Italy and marry whoever it is he picked out for me.
Asher’s hand comes to my back, and he turns me so I’m pulled into his chest. He holds me close, so close his comforting scent wafts all around me like a safe cocoon. “I know that couldn’t have been easy to hear, princess. And I wish it were the worst part, but there is more.”
I suck in a breath, trying to get my emotions under control.
I hate my papa. I did this once for him, married Valentine Moretti to save him and my ma’s life.
I was beaten and treated like a fucking possession for five years, and when I finally break free, he wants me right back in that life of suffering again.
No fucking chance in hell. I glance up at Asher for the first time in my life, wondering if he will be the man to save me.
I know I shouldn’t need a hero, but I’m not living a normal life.
No matter how hard I try to fight it, the mafia still owns me. “How much more could there be?”
“The scumbag working for your papa made another call right after this one,” Mal says.
I glance back at Mal as he presses play on the screen.