What started off as being just plain shitty has turned into a clusterfuck of epic proportions.
The man, or men, who killed Lana are now tied somehow to Drake’s dad? I help Trix from off the counter, make sure she’s put back together, and at her nod, swing open the bathroom door.
“Fuck’s going on here?” Hatch scowls between Trix and me.
I step in front of him. He’s not a small guy, but I’ve got a good few inches on him if push came to shove. “Where’s Drake?”
Hatch stares me down, and the heat of Trix’s body warms my back. “He’s with Elijah. They’re asking for you.”
I reach back and grab Trix’s hand then move toward the door Hatch motioned to earlier.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
I turn around to tell the guy to fuck himself.
“I’m going with him.” There’s a resolve in her voice that makes my chest swell with pride. She’s not intimidated by this guy, which is insanely brave or na?ve.
“The fuck you say?” He laughs, the sound like tumbling rocks. “You’ve been paid to work.” His eyes narrow. “Do your fuckin’ job.”
She juts out her chin. “I quit.”
In a move faster than I’d think possible for a man his size, he grabs her by the hair and pulls her from me. “You don’t get to quit—”
I grip his throat, forcing him to release her so he can fight me off. He swings. Lands a solid punch to my jaw that I can’t feel through my rage.
“You’re a fuckin’ dead man.” I pull him by the throat into a flying knee that doubles him over. “Touch her again and—”
“Enough!” A booming voice radiates through the room.
I shove Hatch, sending him stumbling backwards, but he recovers with a glare that says this isn’t over. I’m reluctant to take my eyes off Hatch. He could pull a knife or a gun, and the way Trix is clinging to my body puts her in just as much danger.
Hatch glares at Trix. “Understand now why you haven’t been fuckin’ me.”
She curls deeper into my body and I tuck her in close.
“Hot, but . . .” J.P.’s voice is mocking. “Little trashy for your taste.” He’s close, too close to Trix. I bounce my gaze between him and the biker trash. “Mason, seems all you touch turns to whore.”
“Fuck you.” Hate this piece of shit. He was a cocksucker in high school, and he’s a cocksucker now.
He grins, as if pissing me off is his greatest joy. “Nice to see you again too, asshole.”
I contemplate beating the shit out of both J.P. and Hatch, but think better of it. Each man has a crew of guys around them demonstrating where their loyalties lie.
He jerks his head toward the office. “Come on. He’s waiting for you.”
I move to follow him, but his eyes cut to Trix. “Leave the girl.”
“No.”
His mouth forms a tight line. “I said, ‘leave the girl.’”
“And I said, ‘no.’”
He tilts his head, studying Trix as she clings to my arm.
“I got her, Mason.” I turn to see Santos, who is flanked by Angel and the redhead. All of them look worried, although Santos doesn’t seem nearly as threatening as I’ve seen him in the past. “I’ll get her home.”
She’ll be safe with him. But not home.
I pull her to my front and wrap her in a hug, putting my lips to her ear. “My house. Go.”
She stiffens. “No, I’m not leaving you.”
A groan rumbles up from my throat. “Please, I can’t do this if I’m worried about you. You need to go.”
She swings her gaze to Santos and back to me, her chin high. “I’m not leaving. I’m going to wait for you.”
I grab her upper arm and yank her. “With who? Hatch?”
She gasps.
“Go with Santos to my house. Don’t fuck this up.” God, why can’t she just fucking listen?
“Mason, man, we don’t have all night,” J.P. says with a frustrated growl.
She scowls. “Why are you forcing me to leave?”
“Think you’ve proven you can’t keep yourself safe.” I nod to Santos and he moves in to take her.
“Come on, Trix.” He hands her a tight dress, and she slips it over her head with a demeanor of pure hate radiating from her violet eyes.
Fine. Let her be pissed. As long as she’s safe. We’ll both live through this to fight about it later.
“Now, if we could get this fucking show on the road.” J.P. sweeps his hand toward the open door of what I’m assuming must be an office or conference room.
I head back, but not before I make sure to see Santos and the girls leave the villa, the door closing behind them.
I follow J.P. into a room that has a long table surrounded by chairs. Elijah’s sitting at one end, his eyes cast out the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooks the Vegas strip. I take a seat next to Drake, who’s sitting with his head in his hands. Shit, this doesn’t look good.
J.P. doesn’t say a word and leaves the three of us, shutting the door behind him.