Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN_
DECAF
“Any other weird occurrences?” I ask Trav.
I’m hoping this looming threat will be over with soon. I figured the more time Haz had to cool off, the warmer he’d be to my presence, but if anything, telling Lemon to ban his stripper friends from the house has only made Haz hate me more.
I’m okay with that. I’m not okay with having to live with it day in and day out. Yes, that’s my own doing because I chose to be the one to watch over him, but … I guess I was hoping he wouldn’t be as headstrong as his father. I think he might be even worse than Jesse.
Stubbornness can be a good trait to have. It makes you loyal. It makes you stand up for yourself. But there is a line, and the Hazard men live on the other side of it. Or, Jesse did … when he was alive.
“Rogue says there’s a task force forming in the DEA, but they’ve made it clear that he’s not going to be involved. Though this isn’t really anything new since he turned on his old team. Which is bullshit if you ask me because he ousted some dirty fucking cops, but—”
“Is there a chance it has to do with our shit?” I interrupt.
“It’s all possible,” Trav says. I’ve never heard so much exasperation in his voice, which means a lot, considering he deals with Iris on a daily basis. “The question of whether it’s likely is harder to answer.”
“How long do you think we have until we can call it situation normal?” Atlas asks. “Lemon has been avoiding the club, and I can already see it’s getting to him. He’s a hands-on kind of boss, so seeing someone else running his business is making him a little …”
“Extra Lemony,” I say for him.
“I was going to go with batshit crazy, but Decaf’s description is nicer.”
You know things are bad when Atlas insults his husband—jokingly or not.
“Who knew locking up a bunch of adrenaline junkies would make us all go mad?” I quip.
“You’re not locked up,” Trav says. “You’re just … sequestered for a while.”
“That’s so much better.”
“Ignore Decaf,” Atlas says. “He’s even worse than Lemon in wanting to get out of here. I don’t think he can handle Haz’s … uh, charm.”
“Now who’s the one being nice? Charm and obnoxiousness aren’t even in the same realm.”
“You volunteered for this,” Trav says.
Don’t need the reminder. “Oh, look at that. Time’s up. I need to go back to watching the seconds tick by on the wall clock.”
Trav laughs at me. At least Atlas has the heart to try to hide his amusement.
An alert pops up on Atlas’s laptop screen.
“What the fuck?” He clicks on it.
“What is it?” Trav asks—he can’t see what we’re seeing.
“It’s my front gate. I swear if Lemon is—”
“If Lemon is what?” Lemon appears out of fucking nowhere, making both Atlas and me flinch.
“If you’re here, who’s …” Atlas pulls up security footage of the front gate, where Iris’s Charger is pulling out.
“It’s Iris and Saint leaving,” I say. “How nice of them to say bye.” I almost turn away from the screen when something catches my eye.
Even with Atlas’s state-of-the-art technology, the image is still grainy.
“Who’s that in the back—” It clicks immediately.
“Motherfucker. They’re breaking Haz out of here. ”
“Again, you’re not in jail!” Trav yells through the speakers, but I’m already halfway out the door and running to my car to follow them.
It’s not that I don’t trust Iris and Saint to keep Haz safe, but in a situation where a choice has to be made?
Of course Iris and Saint will choose each other.
That’s what partners do. I wouldn’t hold it against them, but that does mean I don’t want Haz anywhere near them on the off chance Trav is right and we have people gunning for us.
Personally, I think if we really have become enemies of the state, the government would have made their move already, but it’s still a risk I’m not willing to take.
Which is why I’m jumping in my car and following my friends.
Because if any gunfire is going to happen, I need to be there to throw myself in front of Haz.
They get a decent head start on me, but as I tear through the Hollywood Hills, following the winding roads I know like the back of my hand, it doesn’t take me long to catch up to them.
I get to them just in time before they get onto the freeway.
Had I left even twenty seconds later, I wouldn’t have been able to see which route they’re taking.
It wouldn’t surprise me if they were heading north toward Monrovia, where Iris and Saint live—maybe Haz pleaded with them to stay at theirs to get away from me—but they don’t. They get on the ramp heading west.
They might be heading for the beach because what else do you do when you have a bounty on your head? Go surfing!
Possible bounty. An unlikely bounty.
When I take the same on-ramp, Iris must realize I’m following him because his driving becomes a lot more erratic.
Lane changes, accelerating faster, going over the speed limit.
He’s a skilled tactical driver, mostly because he wouldn’t be able to live with something happening to his precious car, but I’ve got a decade more experience than he does, so even though he tries to lose me, he can’t.
When they pull into the underground parking garage near the flower market, I’m confused.
They get a parking spot almost immediately, and I contemplate double parking and blocking them in because I can’t be sure they’re not stopping here as a diversion.
I don’t want to go find my own spot only for them to pull out again as soon as I’m out of sight.
Saint gets out of the car and walks over to me where I’m idling behind them. He knocks on my window, and I lower it.
“You can come with us, but you’re not allowed to complain, pout, or give advice.
If any of these rules are broken, it won’t matter if we’re wanted by the government because …
” He glances back at Iris’s car and then to me again.
“In Iris’s words, we’ll kill you ourselves.
Personally, I think that’s unhinged, but he is my fiancé, and I love him, so I promised him I would say it. ”
“What are you even doing?” I ask Saint.
He points to a car pulling out of a spot up ahead. “Go park and see.”
Deciding I can trust them, I park my car and meet them by the entrance to the flower market.
All three of them don’t look happy that I decided to tag along, but Saint at least smiles at me.
“Now are you going to tell me what was so important that you decided to go behind Trav’s back and break his order?”
Iris folds his arms. “Only if you leave that judgmental tone back in your car.”
“Go easy on him,” Haz says, and if I weren’t so steady on my feet, I might have fallen over at that. But then he keeps talking. “He’s not good at defying bullshit orders.”
Damn. Direct hit.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” I try for the type of snark Haz or Iris might use, but it comes out a hell of a lot more growly than I’d like.
“Glad that’s settled,” Saint says before we can get into it properly. “Let’s go shopping.”
It’s going to take time for Haz to not reflexively say shit like that, and he has every right to do it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking hurt.
I just have to remind myself that this is my penance. If I can stick this out, Haz might earn me back some soul points. I might make up for a tiny sliver of the sins from my past.
I want to ask again what we’re doing here, but after two nonanswers, I’m going to let them lead the way. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing here. I’m here for one reason only, and that’s to protect Haz in the unlikely event shit is about to go down.
Even when I figure out this excursion is because Iris and Saint are still planning to go ahead with their upcoming wedding and they’re looking for wedding flowers, I keep my mouth shut.
I deserve some kind of medal for that shit because if they can’t see that risking their lives over said wedding day is ridiculous—can’t have a marriage if one or both of you are dead—then there is no helping them.
I’m just pissed they dragged Haz into it.
Haz is walking next to me, behind the other two, and when his phone pings, he takes it out of his pocket. He looks at the screen, and even though it’s rude, I glance at it too. It’s from Atlas.
That’s all I get to read before he angles the screen away and says, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What?” Saint says, looking back at us.
“Mr. Has No Boundaries over here is trying to read my text over my shoulder.”
“No, I wasn’t.” But can I really deny it? “Fine, I was, but only because I saw Atlas’s name.”
“He’s asking if you caught up to us. Scandalous message, right?”
“Hey, umm, not to break this loving moment up or give any weight to Trav’s theories,” Saint says. “Is it just me, or are the two people by the entrance looking out of place?” We go to look. “Wait, don’t all look at once.”
“You’re probably being paranoid,” I say. I hope. “Do you think we look like we’re in the right place? Four muscled ex-military men shopping for flowers?”
“Fair point,” Saint says. “But let’s keep an eye on them anyway.”
We strategize a way to get ahead of the two suspicious people without tipping them off, which involves heading down the aisle next to this one and taking turns getting a glimpse of them.
“I still think you’re reading into it too much,” I say once I get a chance to take a glance at the man and woman. “Trav has us paranoid.”
Yeah, the guy is packing under his jacket, and the woman most likely has a weapon strapped to her ankle if the bulge in her pant leg is anything to go by.
They don’t seem to be actually looking at any of the flowers, but how would anyone know we’re here?
Our phones are untraceable, and it’s not like law enforcement is going to put out a BOLO for our cars.
If they’re taking us out, it’s not going to be some orchestrated, legal takedown.
“These would be perfect,” Iris exclaims as he picks up a bouquet of bright purple, droopy-looking flowers. If you could call them flowers.
“Really? That … color?” Saint asks.
“They’re irises.” Iris grins.
“They’re … pretty. But … that color?” Saint asks again.
“Uh, guys?” Haz cuts in. “Where did they go?”
Instead of being subtle, we all turn and look in every which direction, but our two suspects are nowhere to be seen.
That might unsettle Haz, but it only reiterates to me that it’s nothing. “See? They’re gone. Nothing to worry about.”
“Then you’ll have no trouble leaving me with Iris and Saint and stop crowding me,” Haz says. “After all, leaving is what you’re good at.”
I suck in a deep breath and remind myself that I deserve this.
I deserve this. I deserve this. But that doesn’t stop me from turning to him and saying, “Your barbs don’t get to me because trust me when I say you can’t resent me any more than I hate myself.
I’m going to do a lap and see if those two really are gone. ”
It’s possible that Haz will understand one day, but I’m not sure if I have the patience to wait for it to happen. I’ll have to wait because I don’t plan on leaving him to be lonely and abandoned ever again, but I can’t guarantee I won’t completely snap before it happens.