Che (Golden Glades Henchmen MC 2)

I didn't even think twice about it.

Because everything had been so calm, so quiet.

We'd had nearly two weeks of peace.

After the shit with the Ukrainians and the Chechens blew over with no one pointing fingers at us, we all took a collective deep breath, and felt like life could move forward again.

I couldn't speak for Saskia, but I'd gone ahead and put her problem on the back burner since she was safe with us. No one had been looking for her, or tracked her down.

Or, you know, so I thought.

Clearly, someone had been looking for her.

Someone had tracked her down.

And, if we made it through this, we clearly needed to have a word with Booker. Because the gates had been closed and locked. But this row of men was in the front yard, wearing black suits even in the unyielding midday heat.

Sass was standing a dozen feet back from the group of Asian men. I was no expert on it, but I was leaning away from them being Chinese. So it likely wasn't the Triad that she'd originally done the job for that got her in so much trouble.

Saskia's body was ramrod straight, the burnt cupcake pan still in her hand, but raised slightly, as if she was considering using it as a weapon.

A weapon.

Which I found myself without.

I didn't exactly walk around the house strapped at all times.

And there was no fucking way I was going to leave Sass alone to go grab one.

Instead, I moved forward, walking slightly past Saskia, half-blocking her with my body.

"You're going to need to get off our property," I told them, scanning the line of them, trying to figure out who the leader was.

"We have no interest in you," one of them, the one I assumed to be the leader, declared, taking a half step forward. He was the tallest of the group with a more square jaw, a high forehead, nearly black eyes, and longer hair that he had half-up.

"Sorry to break it to you, but if you have an issue with her, you have an issue with me."

"Che, no," Sass said, trying to move forward past me. "Stop," she snapped when I pushed her back, stepping fully in front of her.

I'd never shushed a woman before in my life. If we lived through this, I was sure I would regret doing it to Sass then, but I needed her to let me try to get a handle on this.

"We figured she must have been well-connected when we couldn't find her," the leader said in a monotone voice.

"Yeah, she's connected to a dozen or more organizations." I'd been a pretty good liar in my time, convincing those even close to me that I was just your average everyday single biker, trying to hide from the law because of my criminal activities as well as my illegal status. If I could fool those I loved that loved me, I could convince strangers I was being straight with them. "If anything happens to her, any one of them will track you down, and make you regret it."

"We don't murder women," the leader said, losing that monotone sound to his voice, sounding agitated.

"How should we know that? We don't even know who you are," I added.

At that, his eyes narrowed for a moment. Everyone wanted their reputation to precede them, and it bruised the ego to realize it didn't always.

"Sano," he said, keeping almost unnerving eye-contact. "Souta Sano."

That still meant nothing to me.

But, apparently, it rang a bell with Sass who had gathered a bit of my shirt at my lower back.

"Yakuza," she whispered.

The Japanese mafia.

"Okay," I said, shrugging. "And?"

"And if you know who I am, you know my men and I don't murder women. No matter how guilty they may be." The words rang hollow since Saskia had a nice little scar on her ass from someone trying to kill her.

"Guilty of what?" I asked, feeling Saskia moving closer, her forehead pressing into my back.

"Stealing from me," he said, chin lifting.

"Sass isn't a thief. That's not what she does."

"She found herself in possession of what belonged to me, which makes her a thief," Souta explained.

"Let's not mince words here," I suggested, reaching back to give Sass a squeeze. "She's not a thief. She's a wheelman. Someone else stole from you. She was just transporting the goods," I explained. "Until you took it back."

"I did not take it back," Souta barked, voice tight, agitated. Whatever it was that was stolen, it clearly meant a lot to him. Either monetarily or sentimentally.

"Then it wasn't you who were chasing me up and down several states?" Sass asked, moving out just enough to be seen, knowing I would shove her back if she tried to do more.

"It was not," Souta said, and I had no reason to doubt him.