CHAPTER SEVEN
Mick was still asleep when Roz woke up, grabbed his ringing phone from off of the nightstand, and looked at the Caller ID. And then she answered the call. “Hello?” She was still sleepy and her voice was heavy.
There was a slight hesitation on the other end, and then a woman’s voice spoke up. “Who this?”
“Who are you?”
As soon as Roz answered her, the woman suddenly ended the call. Which pissed Roz off. And woke her all the way up. “No that heifer didn’t hang up on me,” she said as Mick began waking up.
He opened his eyes as Roz, still holding his phone, looked at him. “Who’s Cleopatra?”
Mick frowned. “What?”
“Your Caller ID said it was Cleopatra calling.”
Cleo? Mick’s heart dropped as he snatched his phone from Roz. “Hello?”
“She hung up in my face. Who is she Mick?”
Mick was looking at the Caller ID. And indeed it was Cleo’s old phone number that had called his phone. Although he was stunned as he quickly phoned her back, his expression remained unchanged.
But Roz’s expression was decidedly changed. “Who’s Cleopatra, Mick?”
It would have been totally out of character for him to answer her.
That phone call was his business and his business alone and Roz knew better than anybody else that he was not going to allow her to get involved that deep.
He didn’t answer her at all. And when Cleo didn’t answer his call, he frustratingly laid his head back down.
“Who is she, Mick?” Roz asked again. But because she knew he wasn’t going to answer her, and that it was a woman involved again, it caused her anger to flare and she slapped Mick hard across his face. “I said who is she?!”
Mick, infuriated now, grabbed Roz by her arm and slung her back against him as if he was going to break her in two. Who did she think she was dealing with? Did she not know what he would do to any other human being on the face of this earth if they deigned to so much as touch him out of pocket?
But if he thought Roz would cower to his fury like all those others would easily do, he was mistaken. “Let me go!” Her bright-white teeth were clenched. Her beautiful, dark, high-cheekbone face was so defiant that it defied the danger she should have been in.
But what Mick would decimate another person for doing, he would barely lay a hand on Roz for doing the same thing. Which was so not like him that it astounded him still. And he let her go.
Still angry, she got out of bed and put on a bathrobe. But just as she did, Mick’s phone began ringing again. And this time he answered on the first ring.
But it wasn’t Cleo. It was Teddy.
“We got her, Pop.”
Mick sat up in bed. “Where?”
“At your safe house on Bronsen.”
Mick was confused. “Here in Philly? I thought Robby said Vegas.”
“She was in Vegas. She apparently bounced when Robby eyeballed her. But you know how that goes. When animals are wounded, they go home. And she was dead for two long years. Or at least we thought. I had a hunch her ass was coming home.”
Mick let out a hard exhale. Teddy was still the best tracker out there. Simply the best. Mick began getting out of bed. “I’m on my way,” he said, and ended the call.
Roz looked at him. They had their own shit to deal with, but he was going to handle some other shit?
“I’ll be back,” he said as he moved past her and headed for their massive walk-in closet.
Roz sat on the side of the bed. She couldn’t believe this man.
She wanted to ask him where was he going.
And when he wouldn’t tell her, as she knew he wouldn’t, she wanted to yell at him and cuss his ass out for not telling her anything.
But she didn’t do any of that. Why waste her breath? Mick was never going to change!
But that didn’t mean she wasn’t affected by his behavior. She was seriously affected. That was why she slapped him. That was why couldn’t control the tears from falling down.
When Mick grabbed a shirt off the rack to put on and glanced out of the closet when he thought he heard sniffles, he saw Roz sitting there in tears. And his heart dropped. “Roz?”
She was the one that slapped his ass, but she was the one crying? He should have been the one pissed. He should have been the one angry at her. But he couldn’t be. He knew he deserved everything she did to him and more.
He tossed the shirt on their closet’s huge marbled-top center island and walked over to her.
When his big body sat beside her, he could feel the enormity of her emotions.
They were arm to arm. And a fixed frown was on his face.
“What are you crying about?” he asked her.
“I told you she was nobody for you to be worried about.”
But he knew those tears meant nothing, and they meant everything. And it was all about him. He was the reason. He was always the reason.
But why should he feel guilty? Because a woman called his phone? Shit! If he allowed her to have that much power over him, what did that say about him? What did that say about them?
But she was crying. And he couldn’t deal with that.
His heart melted, and he pulled her into his big arms. Which caused her to cry even harder as if it had nothing to do with this Cleopatra lady calling him and everything to do with her fear that there were so many more women out there who didn’t call.
Whose names weren’t in his phone. But they were as much a part of Mick’s life as she was.
And she hated that she had allowed herself to become that girl.
Mick could feel her pain. But only for Roz would he cave. “You’re the only one I want, baby,” he said as he held her tighter. “You’re the only one.” He took his hand and lifted her chin to his face. “You hear me?”
Roz didn’t respond. She could be as stubborn as he was. Then she tore away from him, went into the bathroom, and slammed the door.
Mick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck!” he said beneath his breath. If it wasn’t urgent, he wouldn’t go.
But it was urgent.
Deadly urgent.
He had to go.