Breaking Her (Savage Brothers Second Generation 4)
“A woman sweet as honey,” the boy croons. “So sweet you taste her for days later on the tip of your tongue.”
“Yo, motherfucker, that’s my daughter you’re talking about.”
“And that’s my woman and she’s g-going to stay that way,” he adds, not sparing a glance at me. He’s intent on delivering his message to King and he’s not backing down. I grab a motorcycle paperweight on my desk—one Lyla got for me years ago and toss it in his direction. The bastard turns just in time to catch the damn thing. “I see w-w-where Lyla gets it from now.”
I can’t help it. I find myself laughing. I’m even hoping Lyla forgives him. Automatically my eyes go to King, wondering how he’d feel about that. He’s studying Thomas while Thomas has his head turned. His gaze turns to mine and his lips tighten into a grim smile.
Life sure likes to twist shit up and make us jump through hoops.
Chapter 19
Thomas
I watch as everyone files out of the room except for me and Ford. I don’t know why he asked me to stay after he called an end to the meeting. I’m bracing myself for anything. The way shit has been going, I’m sure it can’t be good. After he closes the door, he goes back to his seat and stares at me for a minute. He’s studying me. I don’t move. I let him look his fill. Besides, I’m in no hurry to talk about shit with him. Chances are whatever he’s going to say, I won’t like.
“You really believe Dagger and his club aren’t behind this shit?”
“I do.”
“You know him that well?”
“Yeah,” I respond with a nod.
Now, it’s my turn to study Ford. He seems to be listening to me—almost as if he finds value in my input. It’s a fucking weird feeling since I’ve spent the majority of my time in Dom’s shadow—or my father’s.
“How well?” Ford asks, his eyes narrowing.
“Attended his kid’s c-c-christening.”
“You really don’t think he’s behind this shit?”
“I d-d-don’t even think you’re on his radar. He said he d-don’t hear from you and he l-likes it that way.”
“That means someone is feeding us bad intel,” Ford sighs.
“Or j-just giving it t-to you to s-s-serve a purpose.”
I frown because my stuttering is picking up again. I don’t know how Ford is going to take the fact that I believe his own club is out to get him, but I can’t shake that feeling. I have some suspects in mind, too, and the ones I keep coming back to are pretty far up in the Demon Chasers’ food chain.
“You have ideas about who you think it is,” Ford deduces and I nod. “It’s not King,” he growls.
“I know, b-b-but I don’t like him. He n-n-needs to stay away from Lyla.”
Ford laughs and I flip him off.
“You’re damn territorial for a man who let my daughter walk away.”
“She d-deserves b-b-better than m-m-me.”
“On that we can agree,” he responds and I ignore the way that burns in my gut.
“I’m the one she w-wants and I’m n-n-not leaving.”
“You hurt her again and there won’t be enough pieces of you left for your daddy to find.”
“F-fair enough.”
“You suspect Tweet,” Ford finally says.
“The attack had to c-come from the inside. Tw-tw-eet seems to have gotten this m-magic intel damn easy.”
“Grunt, King and I said mostly the same thing. There’s a chance he’s innocent, though.”
“Or working w-w-with someone else.”
“Yeah, I thought that, too. So, that leaves me with one choice.”
“Set a trap,” I finish his thought and he nods his head in agreement.
“Yeah and that won’t be easy.”
“I might be the w-w-wildcard.”
“What’s that mean?” Ford asks and I shrug.
“No one w-w-would suspect I’d have your back in a firefight, or that you’d have mine. M-m-maybe I can throw out enough signs that they think I’d help them.”
“That’s a longshot,” Ford rumbles, pushing his hair from his face.
“You g-got any b-better ideas?”
“Sadly no. When do we put this plan in action?”
“G-Grunt said the club was having a p-party n-next week.”
“Yeah. It’s the club’s anniversary. We barbecue and the usual bullshit.”
“Then we s-s-start it there. You can let King know and I’ll tell G-grunt on the way back t-t-tonight, so they c-c-can watch our backs.”
“I’ll talk with them both. They’re my men.” I shrug because regardless of Ford says, I’ll be talking to Grunt tonight.
“I’m t-t-telling Lyla, too.”
“Club business doesn’t—”
“If she thinks you and I are fighting, it will upset her. She d-d-doesn’t need s-s-s-stress. I’m t-t-telling her.”
“Fine,” he says grudgingly. I can tell he’s not happy about giving in. I don’t really give a damn. I’m not keeping this from Lyla. I’m going to do whatever I can to make sure this delivery goes smoothly for her.
Chapter 20
Lyla
I wake up when I hear the door open. I careen my neck to look and see Thomas walk inside. I watch silently as he kicks off his boots and I can tell he’s doing his best to remain quiet and although I know it would help him to have a light on, he doesn’t flip the switch. The urge to remain quiet and pretend I’m sleeping is strong, but I find myself reaching over and turning on the lamp on the nightstand. Thomas freezes, the end of his shirt gathered in his strong hands and wadded up as he has the garment half pulled up and ready to maneuver it over his head.