Dirty Sexy Saint (Dirty Sexy 1)
“I know,” he said, and did the only thing he could. He walked her to the door and delivered her to the man who’d come to take her home.
Chapter Fourteen
It had only been one day without Samantha, but it already felt like a lifetime to Clay. Nothing was the same without her. Not his apartment. Not the bar. And especially not his empty bed. He’d gotten so used to having her around and in his life—seeing her smile, hearing her laugh, and smelling the sweet scent of whatever she’d decided to bake for the day. For the rest of his life, he knew that nothing would ever fill the cavernous hole inside of him that losing Samantha had left behind.
He loved her, and his main regret was that he’d never told her. But keeping that declaration buried deep inside of him had been the right thing to do. She was back home and safe from Wyatt, though Clay tried not to think about the fact that she’d most likely give in to her father’s demands to marry Harrison. Fuck. That thought alone, and knowing that any other man had the right to touch her, made him crazy.
“Jesus Christ, Clay,” Levi said, frowning at him from his seat across the bar, a hint of compassion in his brother’s gaze. “I know that Samantha leaving has thrown you for a loop, but I need you to pay attention to what I’m about to tell you.”
Thrown him for a loop? Hell, he’d been walking around in a fog, like a Goddamn lost puppy, emotionally shredded and lost without her. And everyone was treating him with kid gloves, including both of his brothers. There was nothing he could do to change the decision that Samantha had made, and in fairness to her, he hadn’t even tried. So he forced his mind to clear so he could concentrate on the important information that Levi was here to share with him.
“I’m good,” he said assured Levi gruffly, bracing his arms on the surface of the bar. “What did you find on Wyatt?” Clay wanted the prick out of their lives as quickly as possible, and hopefully for good this time.
“A lot of expected shit,” Levi told him. “His criminal history is long and quite notable, with a few convictions, but his time served has been minimal.”
Clay swore beneath his breath. “Is there no fucking justice in this world?”
“Actually, there is.” A triumphant smile curved Levi’s lips, as if he’d been holding back the best part. “While running his prints through the system, there was a match. He has a warrant out for his arrest.”
Clay couldn’t deny the anticipation that surged through him. “For?”
“First-degree murder.”
A sick feeling of triumph shot through Clay, knowing that just maybe the monster would finally get what he deserved. “What did he do?”
“It was about a year ago. He was living with a woman who’d been arrested numerous times for drug possession and solicitation,” Levi said, bringing back memories of their own mother’s addictions and how Wyatt had taken advantage of her weakness, which was apparently the asshole’s MO. “According to the files and records, his DNA was all over the crime scene, but they couldn’t find him. He must have been lying low all this time. Like, underground low, because he’s managed to avoid being caught and arrested.”
“Yet he’s surfaced now, asking for money. He must owe someone he’s more afraid of than prison time,” Clay mused. “So where does that leave us?”
“I talked to the detective on the case, told him the situation, and they’re already in the process of setting up a sting to take him into custody whenever and wherever he tells you to meet him.”
“What about the exchange of money?” First thing this morning, Clay had called his banker to set the withdrawal of cash in motion, but since it was such a large amount, he wouldn’t be able to pick it up until the end of the day.
Levi shook his head. “The chief of police doesn’t want a civilian involved in the takedown. They obviously want to keep any casualties to a minimum. Trust me, we don’t need the blackmail and extortion charges to put this guy away. There is more than enough evidence to convict Wyatt, and murder is a capital charge, which means life without parole. He’s going to rot in prison.”
Clay exhaled a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He couldn’t deny the relief he felt at knowing that finally justice would be served. But he wouldn’t truly be able to relax until the fucker was behind bars, where he belonged.
“All you need to do is let me know the time and place as soon as you hear from Wyatt, and the PD will take care of everything else.”
“Chances are he’s going to show up here,” Clay muttered.
“Then tell him you have to pick up the cash and will meet him somewhere neutral. Then call me with the details.” Levi pinned him with a direct look, a distinct warning in his gaze. “Once that’s done, you need to keep your ass here until we confirm we have Wyatt in custody, got it?”
“Got it.” Clay wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize Wyatt’s arrest.
“Good,” Levi said, then pushed back his chair to stand and grinned. “Then my work here is done.”
Clay walked his brother to the front entrance, let him out, then locked up after him since the bar didn’t open for another two hours. He was halfway to his office when he heard a loud knock. Assuming Levi forgot to tell him something important, he returned and pulled the door open.
He was surprised to find a young, well-dressed man standing on the other side, appearing extremely nervous, his gaze darting up and down the deserted street. The guy looked as if he was making sure he wasn’t about to get mugged. He clearly wasn’t a Kincaid’s regular. Everything about him was neat and orderly and wealthy-looking, from his short, styled hair to his immaculately pressed gray suit, all the way down to his polished leather shoes.
He was obviously on the wrong side of town, and even though Clay didn’t discriminate, the bar was closed. “Sorry, but the place doesn’t open until four,” he told the other guy.
The man gave another surreptitious look around—which Clay found extremely amusing—before meeting Clay’s gaze. “Actually, I’m here to speak with Clay Kincaid.”
Huh. “That would be me,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
The guy shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Do you mind if I come in for a few minutes?”