39. Rae
39
RAE
Once again, I'm in awe of the simplicity of Tyke's safety. He offers nothing more than a solid body to shield me from the world, a hand to hold when I feel unsure. And yet, I crave his quiet, stoic presence when my thoughts get too heavy. He offers me a safe place to let go, to release the burden of my anxious mind, sure in the knowledge that he's got me while I do.
That nothing can touch me as long as he’s around.
Yet, Digger's touch settles me as I step out into the yard, the chill of the night whispering across my face. Gentle fingers circle my nape, and he guides me against his heated body as the men beside the vehicles take a step forward.
“You warm enough, baby girl?” He slides a finger beneath my chin, frowning a little when he sees the redness around my eyes.
“For now.” I nod toward the three men near the hood of the foremost vehicle. “Who are they?”
”A necessary evil.” Digger’s hand slides to my lower back, his thumb tracing circles to ease my mind.
I study the two blacked-out cars in the yard, parked at odd angles to one another. They're pointed in such a way that if somebody wanted to leave in a hurry, they could. I drag my gaze right and note the gate wide open, confirming my suspicion—whoever this is, they aren't discounting that this meeting could go south fast.
I suppress the shiver that strokes my spine, leaning closer to Digger’s body.
Tyke expels a heavy breath, jaw working side to side before he glances down at me, brow furrowed. “This won’t take long.” His thick fingers find mine, and he weaves our hands together before starting toward the small group.
I glance back at Digger and note his subtle nod as his brother pulls me toward the trio of strange men. The foremost stands alone, wrapped in a heavy wool coat. He exudes importance, even without the backdrop of the cars or stoic-looking security detail flanking his position.
"This her?" The man addresses Tyke. He's shorter in build yet just as thickset in the chest and shoulders.
“Sure is.” Tyke’s grip tightens.
My anxiety spikes.
If he’s nervous, then surely, I should be terrified. Who are these men?
As though in answer, the second vehicle's rear passenger door opens, and Marco steps out, pocketing his phone. His lips curl into a cocky lopsided grin, and he offers me a nod as he approaches. "Rae."
I glance at Tyke, yet his focus is tight on the shorter man before us.
"So," the man in charge of this small meeting says. "I hear you were witness to Terry Creed murdering Tom Battersley." He lifts his head to regard me down his nose. "That so?"
Tyke squeezes my hand and gives a tight nod.
I hold the stocky man’s eye as I answer. “Yes.”
“Good.” He shifts his attention to Marco, positioned between us to my right. “You sure about this?”
Marco inclines his head. “Full confidence.”
The mystery man nods slowly, then lifts his right hand to snap his fingers at the security detail. One of the men approaches, pulls a pack of cigarillos from his breast pocket, and lights a stick for the boss. Our unnamed guest takes the smoldering stick from his employee and lifts it to his lips, puffing four times before he rolls the smoke cloud in his mouth and releases it toward the middle of our circle.
I don’t miss the power play. The blatant flaunting of his ability to hold not one, or two, but three men captive on his every word.
It pisses me off no end.
I've met men like this plenty in my life, and, in my experience, they always end up more trouble than they're worth. An ego bigger than their sensibility. Their pride a liability for the safety of those around them.
“What’s your expectation?” Tyke states, breaking the pointless silence.
The man studies him a beat, chugging on that goddamn cigarillo before he answers. “I’ll call in the favor when I need to."
Tyke draws a deep breath, fingers twitching in mine. “I’d rather we stated terms here and now.”
“That ain’t the way I work, buddy.” The man taps ash on the ground, peering at Digger’s threatening stance from the corner of his eye. “Way I see it, you called me in to mediate affairs I had no prior knowledge of. No need to know of. You begged for my help?—”
“Ain’t nobody beggin’ here,” Digger snarls, taking a step closer.
A heavy at the man’s back steps between them.
Marco sighs. "Let's be truthful, Gianni." He cocks an eyebrow. "You have an interest."
Gianni grins, then shakes out a gravelly laugh. “Still a ballbreaker, I see.”
“You cut me out, sure, but I’m not blind,” Marco retorts, jaw hard. “I keep up with business.”
“What interest?” Tyke asks Gianni, tugging me closer as he says so to shift his arm around my shoulders.
I lean into his side and watch Gianni's eyes dart over the three men around him before he answers. "Tom was our inside man. Let's say we've lost a significant advantage with him gone."
“He was your mole in the fuckin’ governor’s office?” Digger scoffs. “You tellin’ me you only got the one?”
Gianni levels him with a cool glare. “The other was shot in the head, twice, in front of her children last May.” He delivers the fact as though it should be common knowledge. “Do believe that had something to do with the likes of you assholes.”
“Careful.” Tyke snorts. “Tarring us all with the same brush ain’t gonna do you no favors.”
“Like I said,” Gianni snaps. “It’s me doing you fucks the favor." He shifts his beady eyes to me, and I tuck harder against Tyke. "You must be pretty damn special, sweetheart. Makes me curious what else you give them for these men to be so… generous."
I’m ushered behind Tyke as he sets himself between the threat and me. “Not on the table.”
"Not yet." Gianni chugs away on the fucking cigarillo. "But she could be." His obnoxious cloud smacks Tyke square in the face. "Give me twenty-four hours, and it's done." He beckons Marco with a crooked finger. "You and I still need to have words about the details, but I think we're finished here."
Gianni’s security detail opens the car door, waiting while the man smashes what’s left of his smoke over the ground before getting inside. Their car starts shortly after, crawling out of the yard and turning left at the gate.
Tyke expels a heavy breath, one hand scrubbing his face, eyes tightly shut.
I glance at Digger and find him eyeballing Marco, who stands with arms folded, staring at the space where the car's taillights once were.
“You sure about this?” Marco utters.
Tyke sighs, gaze shifting to mine as he says, “Ask me again in a week.”
"Is anyone going to tell me what happened here?" I hug myself to ward off the chill, yet it does nothing to keep the ice out of my veins.
The club made a deal—that much is clear—but I want to know what for.
Why they needed to trot me out like a prize mare.
“All you got to know, baby girl, is that after tomorrow, Terry won’t be a problem no more.” Tyke drops his arms to his sides and sighs.
I search the faces of all three men, yet Digger is the only one brave enough to look my way as I ask, "What was the payoff?"
Marco ducks his chin, toeing the ground.
Digger looks to his goddamn brother.
“Tyke?”
“Some people don’t get the luxury of choosing their devils, Rae.” He sets both hands atop his head. “Today, we did. That’s all that matters.”