“We don’t call the cops, Seychelle.”
He handed her off to Ice and turned toward the house with a dark menace in every step. Behind him, Maestro and Keys prowled, looking every bit as grim. Mechanic drove a truck with dark, forbidding windows.
“Ice.” She started to follow the others.
“Sorry, honey, you’re not going with them. You’re going to stay out of the way and let your man handle this the way he has to.”
“You don’t understand, Joseph has a gun. He put it in one of the drawers in my house. I should have stayed inside and looked for it.” She was all but wringing her hands together.
Ice guided her off the main road. Once off the road and facing the house, she saw two other Torpedo Ink members, Destroyer and Storm, at the back door.
“It’s locked,” she whispered.
“We put in the locks,” he reminded her. “There are all kinds of stalkers, Seychelle. His kind don’t stop. He fantasizes he’s in a relationship with you, and that makes him dangerous. You aren’t on the same page with him. One misstep and he will kill you. They would lock him up for a short while and then he’d be right back.”
Seychelle was well aware Ice was telling the truth. Joseph had been following her around for a long time. He kept approaching her in different guises, trying to get her to go out with him. He seemed to have dropped the music scout this time and believed himself in a relationship with her. He had sunk into a delusion she wanted no part of.
His car was parked to the right of her house. She recognized the nice little sport coupe he was very proud of. He had talked about his car in San Francisco and how nice it was. What a luxury car, yet sporty. It was a pretty color, she would hand him that, but she wasn’t a car person. She wouldn’t know the make and model of any car, if the truth was told. One of the Torpedo Ink members, Transporter, slid inside and drove the car off, headed south.
There was a sharp whistle, and Storm and Destroyer disappeared inside. Then Savage, Maestro and Keys went in through the front door. A muffled gunshot made her jump, but Ice was unfazed. He just stood there, watching the cottage, keeping her in the brush several yards from the house.
Her heart began to thud hard as the front door banged open, and from her vantage point, she could see Savage emerging, dragging Joseph by his arms. Joseph was trying to struggle, but it was a half-hearted attempt. Destroyer came through the door, let Joseph’s legs drag for a minute, then reached down and picked them up by the ankles. The two men carried him to the truck, where Mechanic waited patiently behind the wheel, apparently listening to music.
Savage opened a door to the back passenger seat, easily flung Joseph inside and then bent in after him. Destroyer was at the other door and also leaned in.
“What are they doing to him?” Seychelle asked.
“Just restraining him so he can’t move while Mechanic takes him to the clubhouse. We’re going to have a little talk with him. Savage has a lot to say and some questions to ask him. Then he’s going away. We don’t want anyone seeing him. You didn’t see him today. Fortunately, he didn’t tell anyone he was coming to see you, mostly because he came here to kill you today.”
“Why would he want to kill me?” Seychelle turned her gaze up to Ice’s. But she knew it was true. She’d known it the moment she saw the gun.
“Because his delusional fantasy isn’t working for him anymore, and when it doesn’t work, he kills his victim and moves on,” Ice explained. “He’s been clever enough to make certain there’s not enough evidence to point to him. We’ve had Code looking into him.”
“What’s Savage going to do?” she whispered, dread filling her.
“What he should have done the first time he found that man in your house, stealing your things. You asked him not to and he spared him,” Ice explained. “That was a big fucking mistake, Seychelle. You could be dead right now, and he knows it. That would have been on him.”
She shook her head. “No, it would have been on me, not him. Joseph is sick. He needs help. Savage was showing compassion.”
Ice snorted his derision. “Savage was showing you he loves you and giving you something he shouldn’t have. He doesn’t have an ounce of compassion for someone like Joseph Arnold. Once they cross the line and kill an innocent, there’s no going back.”
She shook her head. “He can’t live with that kind of thing on his conscience day in and day out, Ice. You all expect too much of him.”