Page 4 of July 27

Maverick cleared his throat. "Hell if I know."

"Do me a favor and use your phone to call that number." He narrowed his eyes, prepared for the backlash of the order.

"Still haven't figured out how to use the cell?" Maverick pulled out his phone.

He gritted his teeth and handed the paper back to Maverick. It was the simplest things that frustrated him. The phone. Debit cards. Pumping his gas because the laws had changed while he was incarcerated, and now no one was at the pump ready to do the job for him. Even finding out how to turn on the television took an instruction manual. He still needed to figure out where and how to listen to music. Nobody had a stereo anymore. He felt stupid and angry.

He'd rather walk through life alone than feel the constant pressure of living in a society that had outgrown him.

Rachel needed to go back to wherever she belonged. She could surround herself with her people, who could care for her. All he could do was keep her in a bedroom, and that was no life to live for a young woman.

Maverick tapped the screen and then handed Ruger the phone. The call connected.

"Yeah?" answered a male.

"I got your number." He wasn't going to give him a name. That's not how he played the game. If the guy wanted more information, he'd have to volunteer some of his own. As far as he knew, the person on the other side of the call could be a Los Li member, ready to finish off the job and kill him.

"You need to bring Rachel to Offshore. There's public parking lot near the marina. I'll expect you there at three o'clock today."

"Who is this?" he asked.

"It doesn't matter."

He gazed around the area. "I won't hand her off to anyone unless I know she's safe."

"Shady's got a dent in his skull because of you," said the man on the other end of the call.

Ruger's suspicions fell away. Shady had tripped over Ruger's feet in the pen and knocked his head into the toilet. It took six stitches to hold the skin together, and he was left with a dent on his head. No one could see it through his hair, but Shady had a good time blaming Ruger for the damage.

No one would know about that incident unless Shady had told them. The information eased his concern that Los Li had tracked him down already.

"Does she have somewhere safe to go?" he asked.

"She'll be taken care of."

"That's not what I asked." He paused. "Will she be safe?"

"She'll be safe."

He disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Maverick. There was nothing more for him to do. At three o'clock, he'd hand over Rachel to someone else to take care of. When he'd gone after her, he'd done so as a favor to Shady. Now, his debt was paid.

Jagger rode to the back of the building and parked his Harley. Ruger walked over to the man he'd thought of as a brother until Jagger got involved with Katrina. The reminder of their relationship was one more thing that had changed in his life that he had no control over.

"Got a second?" he asked.

Jagger set the helmet down on the seat of his bike. "Shoot."

"I'll be riding out later." He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. "It's time for Rachel to leave."

"Do you need riders?"

He shook his head. "I can handle it."

The back door opened. Ruger turned, seeing Katrina. He watched her go straight to Jagger's side and not him. Damn, that burned.

She was his whole world. Even though he wasn't with her for eighteen years, she was the constant in his head. His dreams. His nightmares. They all centered around her.

Jagger had Katrina her whole life. All he'd had was the first four years with her, and he wanted more time. Just the two of them. They were family. He owed Katrina for all the years he was gone.

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