Rebel (Wolfes of Manhattan 1)

I laughed out loud. Funny. There was a lot I didn’t know about her.

Of course, there was a lot I did know about her too. I knew she had a tiny raised mole at the top of her right thigh and an angel’s kiss birthmark on the back of her neck. I knew she had the sweetest natural fragrance. I couldn’t get enough of it when I was kissing her neck. I knew her hair smelled like pineapple and coconut, and that her nipples got hard when I so much as looked at her.

But I didn’t know her favorite ice cream. I didn’t know what she liked to read for pleasure. I didn’t know why she’d chosen to go into law as a career.

Still, there was no doubt in my mind that I loved her.

Loved her so damned much.

The thought of my life without her in it…well, it would be no life at all.

I couldn’t let my mother or anyone else drag her into this murder investigation. I’d figure it out myself. My brothers would help me. I already knew Roy was hiding something. He was going to tell me what it was, whether he wanted to or not.

The water continued to pelt me.

Wouldn’t life be so much simpler if Lacey had taken me up on my offer to ride off into the sunset? We’d have a simple life, but a good life. Only the two of us with no one to answer to. It was a life I was accustomed to, a life I loved.

A life I wished I could get back.

A life I could have gotten back. The only cost would have been my siblings.

And Lacey.

I wouldn’t have met Lacey.

Or I would have met her, but I would have told all of them to fuck off and hightailed it back here. To my home. It would have been a much simpler decision.

A soft knock on the door. “Rock?”

I cleared my throat. “Yeah?”

“Everything okay? You’ve been in there a while.”

The water had indeed gone from steamy to tepid. I turned it off and wiped my face on a towel. “Yeah. I’m good.”

But was I?

I could do it. I could take off on my bike, Lacey on the back, and never return. I didn’t even have to tell her what I was up to. By the time she figured it out, we’d be across the Canadian border. I knew exactly where to cross. I even knew a guy who could get us Canadian passports.

It was tempting. So tempting.

As much as I desired it, I knew I’d never do it. I wouldn’t double-cross Lacey. I couldn’t double-cross my brothers and sister.

I wouldn’t let whoever was attempting to double-cross Lacey win.

My mother may well have implicated Lacey. She’d tried extortion with me, and I’d succumbed rather than deal with the truth coming out about my past. But Connie Wolfe hadn’t murdered my father. She was manipulative, petty, and liked to turn a blind eye to things she didn’t want to deal with, but she was not a killer.

There was only one way for me to get Lacey out of this. I had to find out who had offed Derek Wolfe.

And I couldn’t do that from Canada.

Lacey wasn’t in the bedroom when I left the bathroom. I got dressed quickly in my riding garb, and then I went to my gun safe. I kept most of my guns there, all but the Smith & Wesson nine millimeter that I’d pulled on ex-Deputy Gore.

My Glock 23—the one I could easily conceal—was in the safe. It was going with me wherever I went from now on. Funny. It was the same model that had killed my father.

I carefully dialed the combination, and—

“Mother fuck.”

The Glock was missing.46LaceyI knocked on the bedroom door again. “Rock?”

No answer. Was he still in the bathroom? I entered. Rock stood facing the wall. The painting on the wall facing the bed sat on the floor, and a wall safe was opened. Rock stared into it.

I approached. Several small guns sat in the safe. My heart jumped as a sliver of fear sliced into me.

“Rock?” I said again, this time more timidly. “Everything okay?”

He shook his head. “Everything’s not okay. Not even close.”

I gulped. “That’s a lot of guns.”

“One less than should be here.”

“Why would you— Oh. Shit.”

“Someone stole my Glock. The exact model that was used to kill my dad.”

“But your gun didn’t kill your dad, Rock. You’d know that by now.”

“You’re right. I know. But still, this doesn’t look good. Especially with my prints—”

“Your prints?”

“I know. It’s crazy.”

“You weren’t even in the state of New York when your father was murdered.”

He nodded. “I have an ironclad alibi. Except that no one was here with me.”

“Rock, you were on a plane the next day. That’s easily traceable.”

“I know that, damn it! I’m not a moron, Lacey.”