Making the Break (Beating the Biker 2)
Louis Anglotti pushed past Hawk. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Getting dressed.”
“I can see that. Why?”
“To go home. As much as I love the food and bed baths of Hotel ‘de Hospital, I’d rather sleep in my own bed.”
“That’s not a very good idea.”
“Can everybody please stop saying that!”
“We have the guys who broke into your place and shot you. But they aren’t talking. They lawyered up. Whoever hired them isn’t finished. Going back to your place is a very bad idea.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Chrissy dropped onto her couch after turning on the tub to run a hot bath, thoroughly exhausted, without taking off her work jacket. She kicked off one shoe, but the other dangled on her toe because she didn’t have the energy to fling it off. She could chalk up her weariness from the hectic day at work but it wasn’t the entire truth.
The fact was, her heart hurt. It thudded dully, as if given half a chance it would stop beating. Each thump spread of a wave of sorr
ow through her chest, and her lungs would only draw shallow breaths against the emotional pain. Chrissy had never believed that something like this could happen but it did.
Her heart was broken.
Now that the shock had worn off from seeing him lying in the hospital bed, she obsessed over those last moments with him like a teenager listening repeatedly to a favorite song. But there was no pleasure in these replays. Leaving Saks two nights ago took every bit of strength she had, and she hated herself for it. She chided herself for her heartlessness. Chrissy judged her family for the callous way they earned their living, but she was no better than they. Saks lay in pain after surgery, and all she did was walk away. If that didn’t make her a horrible person, she didn’t know what did.
But more than that, she missed him. That she’d receive no more suggestive texts, sexy phone calls in the middle of the night, or hold his handsome body against hers ripped open a hole in her heart that refused to close.
This whole situation was wrong.
The only thing right about it was that she was sure she didn’t want to get drawn into the type of world in which her father and grandfather lived. She wanted a normal life.
That wasn’t possible with Saks.
Heart versus head. Head: 1.
Her phone rang, and she remembered it rang several times on the way in, only she didn’t answer it. Sluggishly, she removed it from her purse and saw it was Gloria. “What?” she said unenthusiastically.
“Whoa,” said Gloria. “Who took away your joy?”
“What do you want?”
“I called to help. Unless you don’t care who ordered the hit on Saks.”
Chrissy sat up. “Who was it?”
“Oh, now you’re all business?”
“Gloria.” The warning in her tone was enough to let her sister know she wasn’t fooling around.
“Do you remember that ruckus last year with that Hispanic biker gang?”
“Yeah?”
“They’re pretty pissed that Saks belongs to the family that brought the DEA down on them.”
“So, it wasn’t from our side?”
“The Rojos hired those goons to attack him as payback.”