“Nothing.” I placed my hands on his chest and pasted a smile on my face. “You should go in case Scarlett really needs you.”
Keeping his attention focused on me for another few moments, he stayed silent, but I knew my man, and he was still trying to decide if I needed him. Eventually he said, “Okay, but if you need me, you call.”
“I will,” I promised and watched as he left.
Turning to Griff, I said, “Can you please let me know if something happens while they are with Scarlett.”
His forehead creased. “You sound worried.”
“I am worried, Griff. I’m not sure why, but I am. I never ask to be involved in club business and I’m not now, but I would like to be kept in the loop on Scott. Please.” The unease hadn’t left me, so I held my ground with Griff. I would not finish this conversation until he gave me his word he would do what I asked.
He contemplated my request and I thought for sure he’d argue with me, but he didn’t. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Thank you.”
I left him and headed back to the girls.
God, I hope my gut is wrong.
I want to marry that man.
11
Scott
The last thing I wanted to be doing was checking in on a woman who’d been nothing but a pain in my ass since we’d first met. It’s funny what the woman you love can convince you to do. However, as I stood in Scarlett’s tiny kitchen and listened to what she had to say, I sensed there was something to her concerns.
“Tell me exactly what he said,” I demanded. She’d just described a run-in she had that day with a guy in a supermarket car park, and he sounded like he had ties to Julio.
“He threatened to disable my brother if he didn’t pay up within two days, and then he said he knew I was connected to Storm and that I should tell you guys to watch your backs.”
I frowned. “I thought you’d paid your brother’s debt?”
Her shoulders tensed. “I did. This is a new debt.”
“Fuck,” Wilder muttered. “Why are you paying his debts?”
“Because he’s dead if I don’t,” she stated, as if the answer was obvious.
“Have you got the cash?” I asked.
She swallowed hard and met my gaze. “No. I’ve got some, but not all of it.”
“Okay, let’s back this up. Did he say anything else? We need something more so we can figure out who he is,” I said, my mind racing as I tried to piece this together. It had to be someone either watching her or watching us, and my bet was on someone watching us.
She rubbed the back of her neck and I caught sight of Wilder’s attention being diverted to her chest. I didn’t give a shit what he did with his time, but I needed his attention completely on Storm at the moment, so I shook my head at him when I caught his gaze. He nodded and quickly glanced back at her face.
“He didn’t say anything else to me, but I did overhear him on the phone as he walked away from me…something about a Julio,” she finally said, giving us the name we needed.
I pulled my phone out to call Griff, however the sound of glass smashing diverted my attention. Wilder reached for his gun at the same time I reached for mine.
Signalling to him, I said, “Front window?”
“Sounds like it, brother.”
“Stay here while we investigate,” I said to Scarlett and after she’d nodded her agreement, we headed to the front of her apartment.
Scarlett’s apartment was old and shabby, as were the sheer curtains on her front windows. Along with the outside light she had left on, they made it easy to see the two guys standing on the front balcony. A gush of wind caused the curtain to blow to the side just as one of the guys spotted us and raised his gun to take aim.
“Fuck!” I yelled, at the same time as Wilder shoved me to the ground.
The gun sounded and thankfully the bullet missed us. I scrambled to my feet and closed the distance to the front door. Yanking it open, I ducked to avoid the fist coming my way. And then another gun sounded, confusing the hell out of me because it wasn’t either of these two guys, and it sounded like it came from behind us.
“Get the fuck out of my apartment!” Scarlett yelled, and tension punched through me at the thought of her getting caught up in this.
“Jesus, Scott, she’s got a fucking gun!” Wilder roared.
He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t know, and while I wanted to go to her and rip that gun from her hands and tell her to get the fuck back, I was dealing with more pressing matters – one guy trying to knock me out and another waving a gun around.
As I straightened, I punched the guy in his stomach.
“Motherfucker,” he yelled, stumbling backwards.
Aiming my gun at both of them, I thundered, “Who the fuck are you?” I didn’t recognise either of them, cementing my belief they were from Julio’s crew, but I needed confirmation.
“It doesn’t matter who we are, all that matters is why we’re here,” the guy with the gun snarled as he raised it at me.