Chapter 45
Dominic
It’s mid-afternoon, and I’m parked up on the side of the road, waiting for my next job to walk out of the seedy brothel he’s currently hiding in.
It’s New Year’s Eve, and I’ve been sitting here for two fucking hours, so my patience is running thin.
We’re heading to the boss’s house tonight for a party, so the longer he takes, the more punishment I’m going to need to dish out. Anything to quell the rage that’s currently bubbling inside me because I want to be home with my girls.
Another ten minutes pass, and my nostrils flare as I exhale a frustrated breath.
This cunt is fatter than my damn cat, and would be a two-pump chump at best. So he’s either fallen asleep, or he flatlined mid thrust, and they’re waiting for a crane to lift his obese arse off the poor prostitute beneath him.
When my doorbell app chimes with a movement notification, I swipe my phone off the dashboard and tap it open.
I’m expecting to see my fiancée doing something ordinary like checking the mailbox, and I’m not about to miss a chance to see her. She may be my future wife, but my obsession with her is still very much alive.
I click on the live view of my front yard and sit up straighter in my seat when I see a goth-looking woman in all black, with tattoos running up her arms and neck, walking up my front steps.
I go to switch on the microphone to ask her who the fuck she is and what she’s doing on my doorstep, just as I hear the front door open and Emily gasp, “D-Daisy.”
My eyes narrow as soon as Emily says her name. She knows this woman?
“It was you and your mob mates, wasn’t it?” Daisy says through gritted teeth, and I’m already pushing the button to start the car.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you need to leave.”
From this angle, I can only assume Emily tries to shut the front door, but the goth woman—Daisy—lifts a hand and stops it from closing.
“I warned you what would happen if you lied to me, cunt. Those drugs Muzzle stole are the same shit they used in the clubhouse raid. We didn’t know who was behind it at first, but then I saw you, all cozy with the mob at the church, and it clicked.”
“I-I don’t know anything about any drugs,” Emily stutters.
Fuck, this chick is obviously tied to the Steel Reapers. I put the gearstick into drive and pull out onto the street. The fat fucker in the brothel will have to wait because no one shows up on my doorstep like this and gets to walk away.
I leave the live view running as I floor it, breaking every road rule in a desperate attempt to get home before something happens to my girls. I swear, if one hair is out of place when I get there, I’ll snap that bikie moles neck.
I always swore I’d never harm a woman, but this is personal, and I already know I won’t hesitate to do just that if push comes to shove.
“You’re the reason King’s locked up. The cops came in with their ‘proceeds of crime’ bullshit and stripped us bare.
The house, my car, his bike … every cent in the bank.
Your mobster mates even burnt the clubhouse to the ground and left me with nothing.
You ruined my life, so you don’t get to walk around like that didn’t happen. Not while I’m still breathin’.”
Fuck.
I want to hit the microphone and say something, anything, but that will only tip her off. So I don’t. I gun it as a cold chill settles at the base of my spine.
This is on me. And if anything happens to Emily or Lil’ Peach, there won’t be a place on this earth that’s far enough to hide.