I’m not the only one who’s tense. Gabriel’s body, normally a hard expanse of muscle, is far more rigid than usual.
“Did Mike have family?”
“Yeah. His parents and sister, a few nephews. They live in Vegas. We’ll have to make a trip out there to pay our respects in person.”
“Of course,” I hear myself say, though I’m in no rush to go back to Nevada ever again. “How bad was it at Empire?”
“Bad.” It’s a moment before he elaborates. “They wouldn’t let us into the office so we didn’t actually see Mike, but from what Ryley described…. We can get the coroner’s report if we want to. I don’t know if I want to.”
I only met their club manager once and yet fear spasms inside me. “Was this another lesson from your father?” Did his goons make Mike scream like Bane made his victims scream?
“No. This was retaliation for something my father did.”
I hesitate. “What did he do?”
“Started a full-out war with the cartel. A man named Luiz Navarro.”
My stomach twists. Agent Lewis said the cartel was moving in, that there were murders, that Gabriel was getting in over his head. She warned that he’d get himself killed. “A turf war?”
“Basically. Dad wants to take over Perri’s territory now that Caleb has cleared a path and make Navarro think twice about trying to step in on either.” Gabriel sighs. “Now Caleb and I and Empire are getting dragged into it. I guess it was only a matter of time before that happened. I mean, everyone knows we own the club. That makes the place a target.”
I’m about to push for more information, but commotion down below breaks my focus. Caleb and several of Farley’s men have surrounded the woman—Sasha, I’ve learned is her name. Caleb must have said something to infuriate her because she’s rattling off a string of angry words in Spanish, so fast that I only manage to decipher a few curses. Her little boy, hugging her leg, begins to wail.
“What’s going on?” I ask warily.
Gabriel shakes his head. “Caleb was right, it was stupid to bring them to our house. It’s too risky, with Mike’s murder and Lewis hovering. It’s only a matter of time before the cops show up here and it won’t matter how well we’ve treated them. We have to move them.”
That’s right. They’re hostages here. Well-fed hostages sleeping in their own suites, but hostages nonetheless. “Where are you going to take them?”
“Santa Barbara. Merrick has a place there that they can hole up in for awhile.”
Mention of a Perri reminds me of the last night I spent in Vegas. “You guys have gotten close.”
“It’s a means to an end. That’s all.”
I’m not sure if I believe that but I don’t prod.
We watch as Caleb reaches for Sasha, hand out, palm up.
She slaps it away with another string of profanity, earning Gabriel’s snort.
“She doesn’t seem like she wants to go anywhere.”
“She thinks we’re escorting her out to a desert cliff.”
I survey the terrace. The poor woman and her child are surrounded by a ring of intimidating men with guns, the very same ones who dragged her out of her house. “I don’t blame her. They’re all guys like Bane as far as she’s concerned.”
Gabriel frowns as he takes in the scene again, as if through new eyes. “Give her some breathing room!” he hollers, pulling Caleb’s attention up to us. “And let her talk to Puff.”
Caleb juts his chin in acknowledgement and digs out his phone. Farley’s men shift away, though none too close to the old woman sitting in the shade with her crochet needles.
Gabriel sighs heavily against my nape, sending a shiver down my spine. “I’m so tired. I can’t remember the last time I slept.”
“You didn’t sleep on the way back from Nevada?”
“No. I watched you sleep.” His voice carries amusement “And drool.”
An unexpected laugh bursts out of me. “I was not drooling.”
“You were. You had a little bit of it running down right here.” His index finger drags along the corner of my mouth.
I swat his hand away, but then collect it in mine and tug him wordlessly back into the house, hitting the automated switch for the blinds. In seconds, the bedroom is cast into shadows.
He smirks. “Why do I feel like I’m being put to bed?”
“Because you are. Come on, arms up. I know how you like to sleep,” I tease.
He obeys, and I peel his T-shirt up over his head, revealing a canvas of smooth, taut muscle and warm skin. A familiar rush stirs in my lower belly as I unfasten his belt and his jeans, and work them down his powerful thighs.
But that lust is competing with something more potent—something gnawing in my chest, this desperate need to wrap my arms around him, to protect him from whatever danger his father is stirring up for him.