Chapter 10
Ten
Light
Some men need a reason to fight.
All I need is a name.
After last night, hearing all the shit that Melissa is going through only made me more determined to figure out who is bothering her. I may not be able to do much about her financial worries but I can do something about the asshole that is harassing her.
When she told me her story, she told me the man that she took the loan from was someone named Deke. All I had was a name and the previous town where she lived. It isn't much information to go on, but it did give me someplace to start.
My eyes are beginning to sting, I've been staring at the computer for so long.
I did a deep search on Deke and even though I've found a few police reports and some local news about someone named Deke, there was nothing that would tell me where he was now.
For all I know, he could be halfway around the world.
Still, I'm not going to give up my search.
I do need a break, though.
I push away from my desk, stand to stretch before I head to the door so I can go out to the main area.
I step out of my room, yawning, and instantly freeze.
Hook, Brick, and Pipe are huddled around the kitchen island like three vultures circling a fresh kill.
Right there, sitting innocent and beautiful in the middle of the counter, is my Tupperware of Melissa’s lasagna.
My lasagna.
I lunge forward without thinking.
"Back the fuck off!" I bark, making a beeline for it.
Hook is already reaching for it, poking at the lid with one finger like he is inspecting it for explosives.
"The hell is this, Light?" he asks, grinning wide. "Some kinda secret stash? You holdin' out on us?"
I snatch it up before he can even think about peeling the lid back, cradling it tight against my chest like it is a damn newborn.
"You touch it again, you lose a finger," I warn, narrowing my eyes at all three of them.
Pipe cackles so loud it echoes off the walls.
"Look at him! Man’s about to start singing to that Tupperware."
"It’s just lasagna," Brick says, but he is smiling that slow, dangerous smile that means trouble. "Or maybe it's not. Maybe it's a love letter baked between noodles."
"It’s good lasagna," I mutter defensively, tightening my arms around it like they might rip it from my hands at any second. "And I was just being polite, alright? Melissa made extra. Offered it. I didn't ask."
Hook winks at me.
"Sure, sure. Next thing you know, she’s over here cleaning your toilet and folding your socks into little hearts."
Pipe leans in with a grin so big it looks painful.
"Whipped."
"Whipped," Brick echoes, smacking the counter for emphasis.
"Whipped harder than a rented mule," Hook finishes proudly.
I glare at all of them.
"I don't get whipped. It's impossible. I’m Light."
I say it like it’s supposed to mean something, but judging by their shit-eating grins, it doesn’t.
Then Hook grabs a dishrag off the counter and twirls it around like a lasso.
"New plan, boys," he says. "We ransom it back to him. Ten bucks or we eat it ourselves."
"Twenty if you want the garlic bread too," Pipe adds, holding up a greasy napkin like he just found the Holy Grail.
I hug the lasagna tighter and back toward my room like they’re a pack of wolves.
"Y'all better step the fuck back. I’m not afraid to fight over this."
Brick smirks. "Nobody fights fair for love, brother."
"I don't love it," I growl.
The second the words are out, I hear how stupid I sound.
Hook howls with laughter.
"Sure you don't. Tell that to the way you're spooning it right now."
I flip them off with my free hand and retreat down the hall, clutching the Tupperware like it is my last goddamn lifeline.
Behind me, I hear Pipe yell,
"Light and Melissa, sittin' in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"
I slam the door to my room shut with my foot and lock it for good measure.
Whipped?
Me?
No fucking way.
I set the lasagna down on my nightstand and stare at it for a long second.
Maybe... maybe just a little whipped.
But nobody needs to know that but me.
Before I even realize what's happened, the lasagna is gone. I ate it, like an animal, with my hands.
Better than letting the guys get to it.
Oh, well.
Now that I'm full, I can focus on what I was doing before. I quickly grab a napkin and wipe my hands off before I sit down in front of my computer and get back to the recon work I was doing before.
Not more than five minutes after diving back into my research, there's a knock on the door.
"Yeah?" I shout and Semi pokes his head into my room.
His face is lined with a deep frown, but at least he's not going off the deep end and trying to knock anyone's head off.
"What's up, brother?" I turn in my chair and face him.
"I just wanted to give you an update on what I found out." Semi steps into my room and closes the door behind him.
"You're ol' lady okay?" I ask. The last I heard from him, he was trying to find out if the photos he was sent of her being tied up were legit.
"She's not my ol' lady." He gives me a pointed look, "And I still don't know. I haven't been given any information on that but I did look into this Deke character you told me about." Semi sighs and crosses his arms over his chest, "He's bad news brother."
Fuck, this isn't what I wanted to hear. Not that I didn't already know that, but now with Semi telling me it only solidifies how much danger Melissa is in. "What did you find out?"
"Well, he does have ties to my old crew, but not exclusively.
He used to be a low level player but made a big splash in the underground gambling world.
Got a lot of cash and a lot of players. He's basically a fucking loan shark who thinks he's old school mafia.
The problem with him is he's branching out now and is getting into the real estate business.
Word is he's been buying up properties left and right.
I don't know to what end but..." Semi shrugs before he continues.
"I also found out that he's got a few of his people right here in town.
I'm not sure what this Deke asshole is up to, but I've heard rumors from some of the people in town that he's been trying to strong-arm some of the business owners into selling.
They say the crew of them spend a lot of time down at The Fit Lab. "
"That's the gym downtown, right?" I ask, already putting a plan together in my head.
"Yeah." Semi nods.
"Thanks brother. Let me know if you find anything else out." I stand from my seat, grab my cut and get ready to walk out.
"Wait a minute. You're going down there now? You don't want to figure this shit out first?" Semi grabs hold of me and tries to stop me from leaving.
"I know all I need to know. Those pricks are fucking with a single mother that wants nothing to do with them. I can't let that slide."
Semi tilts his head, "You can't, or you don't want to? This woman has really gotten under your skin, hasn't she?"
I open my mouth to deny it. I can't.
I don't know when it happened, but somehow Melissa has become something more to me.
Something I wasn't prepared for or even want.
I don't have time to think about that now. What I have to do is go down to this gym and deliver a message.
Pulling away from Semi, I storm out of my room and through the main area. The look on my face must put everyone on edge because all conversation stops as I make my way through.
"What's going on, Light? You need backup?" Brick calls out, standing from his seat.
"Nah, brother. I'm good on my own." I say over my shoulder, my feet not stopping as I make my way to the door.
"Stay safe." He calls back, but I'm already one foot outside.
I'll stay safe. I know what's at risk if I fuck this up. As an ex-con, getting caught doing anything is just another way for me to get thrown back into the clink.
I'm not trying to go back to jail. I've gone to jail for a woman already. I'm hoping I'm not making the same mistake for Melissa.
***
I push open the glass door to The Fit Lab, keeping my head down. The place is small, cramped even, but it is packed with enough people to make someone like me disappear into the noise.
My cut is stuffed under the seat of my bike out front, hidden like a secret.
I pull my hoodie up higher over my head, shadowing my face. I am not here to lift weights or shake hands.
I stalk the edges of the gym, pretending to scope out the equipment, but my eyes are busy scanning the crowd.
Row after row of treadmill runners, grunting lifters, clanking machines.
For a second, I wonder if maybe I have it wrong. Maybe he isn’t here.
Then I see him.
The bastard who was outside Melissa’s house a few nights ago.
My blood goes hot under my skin.
I watch him from across the gym floor, careful not to draw attention. He is with a couple other meatheads, laughing and talking between sets at the weight bench like he does not have a fucking care in the world.
I grip a free weight stand hard enough that the steel squeaks under my hand.
Not yet.
Not here.
I wait. I watch.
The guy finishes his last set, claps his buddy on the shoulder, and heads toward the locker rooms.
I move with him, keeping my distance, the crowd swallowing me whole.
I watch him push through the locker room door, and I wait just long enough to make sure nobody else is heading that way.
Then I follow.
By the time he exits out the back, he is alone.
The parking lot on this side of the building is empty except for a few cars and the sharp buzz of a dying streetlamp.
Perfect.
I slip through the door behind him, grabbing the small three-pound weight that someone jammed under it to keep it open.
Fits perfectly in my palm.
Heavy enough to make a statement.
He doesn’t even hear me until I am on him.
I clamp one hand around the back of his neck, jerking him off his feet, dragging him toward the far edge of the building where the cameras don’t reach.
He struggles, cursing, but I shove him face-first against the cold brick wall.
Before he can get a word out, I bring the weight down hard.
The crack when it hits his cheekbone echoes off the concrete, sharp and ugly.
The man grunts in pain, sagging against the wall. Blood smears across the bricks.
I don’t feel bad.
I don’t feel satisfied either.
It is something darker than anger, colder than rage.
It is a need to protect.
I grab a fistful of his jacket and haul him upright so he can look at me. His eye is already starting to swell shut, and I want him to see me.
Really see me.
"You tell Deke," I growl, my voice low and shaking with the effort it takes not to slam the weight into his face again, "if he comes near Melissa again, if he even breathes in her direction, I will make this feel like a fucking love tap."
I tighten my grip until he whimpers.
"I will show up when he is sleeping. When he is shitting. When he thinks he is safe. I will break him apart piece by piece and leave him wondering which way is up."
The guy nods frantically, blood dripping off his chin.
I shove him away from me, letting him collapse onto the asphalt like the trash he is.
I toss the bloody weight at his feet.
"Pass the message," I say.
I don't bother to clean the blood away. I want him to see it. I want his friends to see it.
His blood and pain will be a reminder for him and the rest of the people in his crew. Melissa is off limits.