“Gadget says we’re good to go. The video footage has been looped and he’s alone in the building.”
The world faded around him. One driving thought remained—protect Juliette at any cost. Quietly entering the building, they took the stairs to the second floor. They’d spent a few days casing the place and getting Specs and Gadget inside to set up the equipment. A few inches from the door, Shooter reined in his fury. He wanted to kick the damn thing in and go agro, but it wasn’t what this situation called for. In order to take away Peter’s control he needed to be the master of himself. When you let your emotions rule you got sloppy. The slimy bastard would respect him more if he kept his temper under check. Peter obviously valued control greatly or he wouldn’t go to such lengths to control every aspect of life around him. Turning the knob, he pushed the door in and grinned at the stunned expression on Peter Stant’s face. His jaw flopped open like a fish, and his hand paused mid-signature on a paper.
“Surprise, Stant. I figured it was time we pay you a visit.” Moose shut the door behind him and leaned against it. “We got your present. Real cute hiring someone else to do your dirty work for you.”
“I resent those bogus allegations.”
“Listen to me you, son of a bitch. We both know it was you, so let’s cut to the chase.” He stood in front of the desk, popping his neck to ease the pressure that had formed. “You need to leave Juliette alone. She’s not interested and this time around she has someone who’ll stand up for her.” Reaching across the desk, he gripped him by his lapels and dragged him across the surface, slamming him onto his back. The thud vibrated the room and sent items rolling onto the floor. Leaning over the pale-faced man, he growled.
“You fucked with the wrong woman. You should’ve stayed away, found someone actually interested in you and your sick games.” Removing one hand, he reached inside his pocket and pulled out a knife. The body beneath him went as stiff as a board.
“How does it feel being the one to fear for your life?” Holding the thick military-grade blade up, he pressed the sharp point into Stant’s neck. “I don’t bluff. You come near her again and I’ll come back here and start carving your ass up like a turkey. Maybe I should start now. Give you a couple scars to match that ugliness you got inside.”
“N-no, please.” His voice wobbled as he begged. Fear clouded his eyes and his breathing grew shallow.
“Please? You think I have an ounce of mercy in me for you? Bro, you got that cigar handy?”
“Yep.” The sound of a lighter case opening broke the silence. A few seconds later a wisp of smoke curled around them. Shooter held out his hand and Moose rested the stogie in his palm.
The smell of urine assaulted his nose.
“Jesus, he pissed himself.” Shooter snorted and, bringing the cigar to his mouth, blew a cloud of smoke in Stant’s face.
“The way I hear it, those who inflict pain on others weaker than themselves are the worst kind of bastards when the odds are evened,” Moose said.
Disgusted, Shooter released Stant and stood. “I will tear your world apart piece by piece until I get what I want. Do you understand me?”
Tears and resentment swam in Stant’s eyes.
“I don’t think he does,” Moose said.
“Let me make it clearer.” Shooter brought the lit end of the cigar down, moving to stab the desk at the last minute. Peter cried out like a child.
“Bitch.” Walking to the bookshelf he began to throw picture frames, books and anything else he could get his hands on, to the floor. When the office was thoroughly trashed, he stopped.
“You don’t want me to come back here, Peter. Forget about Juliette.” The man remained silent, but the anger simmering in his eyes and the tension in his body told Shooter he’d remain a problem. “Let’s go.” Not wanting to give Stant an opening to regain his abused manhood, Shooter backed out of the room after Moose.
Leaving as quickly as they came, they held their tongues until they were a few miles away from the office.
“I want to believe that was the end of Stant, but I’m too paranoid.” Shooter banged the back of his head against the headrest of his seat. “Fuck.”
“I don’t know. The man pissed himself. He might steer clear.”
“After five years?”
“That was before she had a protector capable of fucking him up. I mean he pretty much just lay there and took it. Not much of a bad-ass. ”
“I hope you’re right, Moose.”
“True enough. You know whatever you need, we got your back.”
“I know…let’s head back. I have the sudden urge to see my old lady in person.”
Tension stiffened his muscles as he ran through different scenarios in his mind. He was in for the long run with Juliette. The woman turned him on and captivated him like no one had ever done before, even Angelina. The pain that used to explode in his chest every time he thought of her had become a dull ache thanks to Juliette. He wanted to tell her about all of his past to get to where he wanted to be. He’d seen the curiosity in her eyes when he hinted at what had happened. It was only a matter of time until she asked him. If he balked, he might lose the best thing to happen to him since Mayhem. Can I open up that rusty chest of memories without losing it?
Chapter Fourteen
Juliette couldn’t help but feel nervous as she placed books back on the shelves. Working in the back by herself had always been something she looked forward to—a break from the stillness the front desk offered toward the end of the night. With fewer people in the building, the front desk got boring, fast. Tonight it seemed like a prelude to a horror movie. She glanced back and forth as she pushed the cart. The creaky wheels stood the hair on the back of her neck on end. Her ears twitched and she paused.