Ruthless Bastard (Dangerous Love 3)

Kinsley nodded. “He’s trying, and I want to let him try to see if we can make it work. What else can I possibly ask for? I want our child to have two parents. Happy ones that want t

o be there.” Both friends gave her a look of understanding. “I won’t bend on my happiness, but I love Rhett. I’ve loved him for so damn long. And that means I have to love the parts that aren’t totally put together. He’s either going to get to where I am, or he won’t. But if that happens, we’ll have to co-parent, and we need a solid friendship for that to happen. That’s what we’re working towards right now. Not love. Maybe something deeper than we had before, yeah, but just…figuring this out, you know?”

Peyton’s eyebrows slowly drew together. “Yes, I totally understand. He’s doing what he should be doing, and even more than I think any of us expected.”

A long moment of silence drifted between them as everyone sipped their hot chocolate. Until Remy broke it. “Out of curiosity, do you think he’ll ever be the marrying type?” she asked.

Kinsley shrugged and admitted the honest-to-God truth. “I have absolutely no idea.”

“Well, one thing is for certain,” Remy said. “I’ve never seen the kind of rage I saw in Rhett today. Whoever did this to you today, whoever wants you to close down, I actually pity them. Rhett is coming for them, and I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that wrath.”

Peyton gave a firm nod. “That’s why Boone thinks it’s not someone from town.”

“Did he say why?” Kinsley asked.

“Because no one who knows Rhett would be so stupid to come at him like this,” Peyton said slowly. “No one.”

Kinsley nodded, as that made a lot of sense. Anyone who knew Rhett knew not to mess with him. The United States government had trained him to kill, and he had no qualms about it when he was protecting those he was told to protect.

“All right,” Peyton said, setting her mug down on the table. “We’ve had hot chocolate, Boone’s bringing us dinner soon, and we’ve got a couple of Hallmark Christmas movies. What else can I get you? What do you need?”

Kinsley took a long sip of her cooled-down hot chocolate, wiggling her toes. She looked between her best friend and her sister-in-law and smiled, the coldness finally fading away to the warmth and love in this room. “Just this. Nothing else but this.”

* * *

On the north end of Whitby Falls, anticipation flowed through Rhett’s veins as he leaned forward, staring out the front window while Asher pulled his truck into the parking lot of Red Dragon’s Saloon, the local biker bar. Resting just off the gravel road in the rural area of the city, the bar was what biker movies were made of, with its worn plank boards for walls and western false front architecture. But the red and blue neon lights were like a beacon calling Rhett forward. There was a time and a place to let a case fall where it fell, and there was a time to push forward and demand answers.

Rhett planned to push. Hard.

From the back seat, Boone let out a long deep sigh. “This could end very badly.”

“Yes, it could,” Rhett replied, eyeing the rows of motorcycles, his seatbelt the only thing holding him back from rushing in and getting answers.

Asher stopped the truck off to the side of the motorcycles. “My vote is still that this is highly stupid.”

“I won’t wait for answers anymore.” Rhett unbuckled his seatbelt then turned to the men he trusted as much as his military brothers, if not more. “You both know what to do?”

“Plant the bait,” Boone said.

Asher added, “And then we meet at Flannigan Corners.” The four-way stop in Whitby Falls had been the location of a terrible accident where seven members of the Flannigan family had all perished in a crash caused by a DUI.

Rhett nodded and grinned. “Keep the truck on, just in case I come running.”

Asher snorted, turning off the ignition. “Only you would enjoy this.”

Rhett did enjoy this. He lived for the adventure. The rush of adrenaline that followed as Rhett exited the truck was his fuel. That steady excitement kept him sharp and ready as Boone and Asher headed off toward the bar’s front door. Rhett reached for his weapon in the holster at his waist and moved to the bar’s window. He stayed off to the side and glanced up into it, watching Boone and Asher walk into the bar. Every head turned in their direction, but there was only one person Rhett kept his focus on.

Dalton. He rose from his spot at the bar as Boone and Asher approached him. The bikers went still around them, all looking to Dalton on how to react. Boone spoke, and they had a short conversation. One that had been planned down to each and every word spoken. Boone and Asher were reporting the attack on Kinsley today and asking the questions they needed to ask to plant the seed to get Dalton acting, if Rhett’s instincts were right. They usually were.

When Boone and Asher left the bar, the bikers once again looked to Dalton for a reaction. He said something to them, then turned and headed toward the back, past the two strippers dancing around the poles. Rhett moved swiftly, his military training clicking into place, as he became part of the shadows. He slipped through the back door, passing the chef working at the stove, flipping burgers. Loud music came from the front, but Rhett moved hastily, already aware of the layout of the bar that the detectives in Whitby Falls had provided after Rhett left the hospital.

He stalked carefully down the hallway, taking each breath slow and easy while an aroma of grease and bacon lingered in the air. He held his weapon in his hands, aimed at any threat coming his way. When he overheard Dalton’s enraged voice, he lowered it slightly.

“I don’t know what shit you’re pulling,” Dalton growled. “But we never signed up for this.”

A quick peek into the room revealed Dalton speaking on the phone, his back to the door. Rhett slipped in, then tucked himself behind the door, and Dalton was none the wiser, focused on his conversation.

“You fucking attacked the police chief’s daughter. Do you understand the position this puts us in? The heat you’ve brought on us?”