“Any more notes?”
I knew this was a mistake, she just confirms it with her first question. “No,” I answer praying that will be the end of it. It’s not. We go back and forth over me telling Dragon and I know that I’m putting her in a hard spot. I absolutely am, but I can’t. Dragon and his men go head long to protect the ones they care about. This means Zander would jump in with both feet and take off running. I believe that, because I know he loves me. Dragon might not care that much for me, but he does Nicole and if he thought for one second that someone was threatening his woman or his child, he’d go in, guns blazing. Michael operates outside the law, much like the Savage MC, but (and this is a very big but) he owns the police. When I say he owns them, I’m not talking about the cops in a local town or surrounding areas, I’m talking, judges, senators, representatives and every office in between. Hell, he’s even been invited to dinners at the freaking White House. I’ve tried fighting this and I know. I’m going to do everything in my power to deflect Michael away from the ones that I love and if that fails I’ve left a packet of detailed information that goes to Dragon if I die. In it is every crooked politician and the information Michael holds on them all, along with detailed information on Michael. I’ve held it to myself all this time, thinking that I might could use it to bargain with those on a higher food chain, if Michael ever found me again. Me surviving is no longer my goal, I’m going to die and truthfully if Michael gets his hands on me again I’d rather die. My goal is only making sure that those I love are kept out of this. I can’t give the info to Zander. If something happens to me, he won’t control himself. He’ll act first and then think. Dragon will be more methodical. Doing this, giving Dragon the one card I have against the devil…it’s all I can do.
The arguing with Nic and I continues back and forth and my guilt from the whole shooting with Tiny gets involved and I’m glad I haven’t ate. I feel like I want to hurl. Nicole will never understand how much I regret that day. She can’t. She doesn’t know what happened with Ms. Martens. She doesn’t have my memories. She doesn’t have visions of someone she likes being tortured. Not to mention, that she was tortured in much the same manner as Dragon was doing to one of his on. Sure I understand why, now—maybe I did even then. Still…the past and the present meshed together and I just reacted, wanting to keep my best friend safe.
“Afternoon, ladies,” a voice says from my side.
A voice, I never wanted to hear again in my life. A voice that haunts me almost as much as Michael’s does. I count backwards in my head and steady my breathing, deliberately lowering it. I can’t show fear, I can’t let him see weakness. I slowly lower my hands to my lap and turn to face Michael’s lapdog. I hate the son of a bitch and it would make me the happiest woman in the world to do nothing more than kill him slowly. I guess Dragon and I aren’t so unalike after all.
I do my best to appear like I barely give him a second notice. I try extra hard to make it appear I don’t even know who he is. I give what I hope is a tiring sigh, then respond. “Not interested buddy, move along.”
“Really, Mrs. Kavanagh, I assumed you would be most interested in what I have to say.”
“Sorry, you have the wrong person, buddy,” Nic answers, reaching under the table to grab my hand. I am pretty sure I cut off her circulation, squeezing it in answer. She and Donald go back and forth and it’s enough to let me know that Michael has indeed been checking out the Savage MC. The reality of that settles into my stomach. The only bright spot is that by sending Donald here first to give me a warning, means Michael is unsure of how to proceed around the Savage crew. I will have to use that to my advantage. Maybe I will be able to stay around a little longer.
“…I have a message for you, Melinda. It’s from your husband,” Donald says dragging me back to the conversation at hand. Hearing Michael being referred to as my husband throws me for a loop. It causes my facade to slip.
“I…I don’t….”