“With no job, I have plenty of free time on my hands. So I did what you should have done when you met her and checked her out. A few searches online and it was easy. She’s worth millions.”
Scott frowned. Freddie had to be lying. But what if he wasn’t? Scott rubbed his face, considering the possibility of the latter. He recalled how he’d wanted to make Margo dependent on him, make her need him. If what Freddie claimed was true, then Scott could imagine Margo laughing at his antics behind his back.
“You sure about this, Freddie?”
“Look her up your damn self. I’m telling you, man, the woman is an heiress. And she has an uncle who’s wealthy as sin too.”
Scott drew in a deep, angry breath. That was probably the uncle who’d raised her when her parents had died. Why hadn’t she ever told him she was well-off? “I talked to Margo last night before Wanda showed up. I called to see how she was doing since there’s a killer on the loose in her town.”
He paused and then added, “A man was there with her. He got on the phone and told me not to call her back.”
“You need to do something, man.”
“Do what?”
“Teach her a lesson for using you. Having her new boyfriend tell you off like that wasn’t right. Do you want me to go take care of them for you?”
Scott knew Freddie didn’t do anything without a purpose. “What’s in it for you?”
“For starters, I plan to get my hundred thousand dollars back. She forced me to empty my damn savings account. Now I don’t have a job and I’m barely getting by. She owes me.”
Scott rolled his eyes. Although he was pretty damn angry with Margo right now, he refused to let Freddie talk him into doing anything he would regret later. “Get over it, Freddie. You fucked up with those snakes, and Margo wasn’t responsible for you getting laid off at the bank.”
“I won’t get over it. Your ex-girlfriend is loaded and she played your ass. If you don’t plan on doing anything about it, then that’s your business. But I intend to get my money back. Every single cent.”
He hoped Freddie was talking crap, but he had a feeling he wasn’t. “Settle down, Freddie, or you’ll get yourself in even more trouble than before. Let it go, man.”
“I won’t let it go. You shouldn’t either. What we should do is kidnap her and make that rich uncle of hers pay to get her back.”
Kidnap Margo? He hoped like hell that Freddie wasn’t serious. Unlike Freddie, who was out of work and down on his luck, Scott did have a job—a good, paying one that he intended to keep.
“Meet me at Gritty’s for breakfast so we can discuss it.” He would try talking Freddie out of the crazy idea of kidnapping Margo. Kidnapping was a federal offense, which meant real jail time. No way would he be a part of anything so stupid.
*
STRIKER MOVED AROUND the room, pulling clean clothes out of his duffel bag while trying not to listen to the sound of Margo in the next room. She was humming, of all things. At least one of them was in a good mood.
He’d lied about needing to make some calls. There was no way he would step into a shower with her. He could guess what would happen. For the past week he’d lain in bed, listening to her shower and thinking of all the things he would do to her if given the chance to ever share the stall with her.
Removing his Beretta and placing it on the nightstand, he then called Stonewall. His friend answered on the first ring.
“What’s going on, Striker?”
“I’m about to shower. Keep an eye on the outside, will you.”
“I always do.”
After clicking off the phone with Stonewall, he went about removing his clothes. He was about to head for the shower adjacent to the guest room when he heard the sound of Margo’s voice. She was no longer humming but was talking. Had she called someone? She knew the rules. No outside contact without his knowledge. Had she called Scott after she’d all but sworn she was through with the man?
He stilled to listen carefully to the sound coming through the speaker Bruce had installed and realized she was speaking directly to him.
“Striker, just in case you missed all I said the first time, I am repeating myself. I’m not sure if you were being truthful when you said you could hear everything going on in this room, but if you were, then listen to this. I want you again. I want to take a shower with you. I want to taste you all over like you tasted me last night. I want to make sure you like it as much as I do. If you don’t take me up on this invite, I’ll assume you just lied about being able to hear me.”
Blood rushed like crazy through Striker’s entire body and then settled in his groin. He didn’t blink. Could barely breathe. He stood there, unable to move. The only thing moving was his erection. It was expanding like nobody’s business. Oh, shit. Where was his willpower when he needed it most?
He needed to fight his desire. He had to. But, dammit, the thought of a naked Margo in the shower waiting on him was too much. And she wanted to taste him all over...
He drew in a sharp breath, grabbed a towel and walked toward his bathroom. Inside, he glanced at himself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at him was of a man who’d made love to a woman last night and who still wanted more. All he had to do was close his eyes and he could inhale her scent, probably because it was still on him. He’d brushed his teeth yet he could still taste her on his tongue. And it was a tongue that wanted to taste her again.
Crap! He turned and, before he could talk himself out of what he was doing, called Quasar.
“What’s up, Striker?”
“Make that two hours on breakfast.”
Not waiting to hear what Quasar had to say, he clicked off the phone. Grabbing a couple of condoms, he headed straight for Margo.
*
STONEWALL HAD PICKED UP his coffee cup to take another sip when his office door opened and Roland walked in. Stonewall’s eyes widened and he stood. “What the hell are you doing here instead of recuperating somewhere?”
Roland waved off his words as he settled in the chair across from the huge desk. “I had a doctor’s appointment this morning, and he said I’m fine.”
Stonewall frowned. “But I bet he didn’t say you could return to work yet.”
Roland leaned comfortably back in the chair. “And I haven’t returned. Just dropped by to check on things.”
Stonewall nodded, knowing it was more than that. “We’ve been busy. Everyone wants protection, even people who weren’t anywhere near the courthouse that day. Craziness happening.”
Roland nodded. “How’s Striker?”
“Fine,” Stonewall said, sitting back down. There was no way he would tell Roland what he and Quasar suspected about how Striker was really doing. So he asked, “How did you get off Sutton Hills without Carson’s approval?” After Carson helped clear Roland’s name, Roland and Carson had remained good friends, and when Carson married Sheppard Granger last year, Roland was pretty much adopted into the Granger family like the rest of them.
“Wasn’t easy,” Roland replied. “Carson drove me in to the doctors and Shep followed. I suspected the doctor would give me back driving rights and I would need my car.”
“And I’m sure the doctor expected you to leave his office and go straight home, Roland.”
“This is home for me, Stonewall.”
Stonewall knew that to be true. Roland pretty much stayed here 24/7, even though he had an apartment a few miles away. Roland had a room with a cot for any of his men who needed power naps between jobs, and all of them were well aware that Roland used it as much as they did.
“You don’t think I can handle things here?” Stonewall asked.
Roland chuckled. “You know that’s the last thing I think. I trained you all well. It’s just that I was wondering how Striker was doing with Margo.”
“You could have picked up a phone and called to ask, Roland. Need I remind you that you took a bullet less than a month ago?”
“No, you don’t have to remind me.”
“The police still haven’t caught the dude who tried to hijack your car?” Stonewall asked.
“No, and with so much other stuff on their plates, they aren’t looking. They have a much bigger fish to catch.”