Page 18 of Cutter

“I feel so bad.” Yoanni sat at the opposite edge of the bed. “Thanks again for helping me. I work with Captain Weaver. Emily told me you were thinking of helping in her investigation. I’m supposed to be your secondary emergency contact, but I’m sure she’ll tell you more after she wakes up and feels better. That is if you’ve made up your mind to join the investigation.”

Staring at the sleeping Emily, Cutter nodded. “Yeah, I think I will. Someone needs to watch over her. What in the hell made her go to the Dirt Road? And with you, an untrained civilian for backup.” He frowned at Yoanni. “I wasn’t supposed to be there. It was pure luck I was. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened? Nails would’ve drugged you both, and you would’ve woken up in a real bad place.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You had a scare tonight. This is on Emily. A detective should’ve known better.” He frowned. “And you…give this investigation some serious thought. If you’re staying involved, get it through your head that this isn’t a game and you’re not watching a movie or a TV show. This is the real nasty world, and these guys are bad news. Had they sensed even a hint of your real identities, they would’ve snuffed you out in a heartbeat, and without losing any sleep over it.”

Slowly, he stood and pulled the cover up to Emily’s shoulders. “Do you have to go home? I can stay. I’ll help you clean up and sleep on the sofa.”

Twisting her hands, Yoanni stared at him. “No, I…”

“I get it.” He walked to the living room. “I’m a stranger, and this is your friend. Leaving me to take care of her doesn’t feel right.”

“Please don’t take offense, but yes, something like that. I brought clothes to stay the night anyway.”

“You’re a good friend, Yoanni.” He smiled. “On the upside, Emily’s going to be fine. On the downside, she’s gonna wake up with a major hangover from the drug. Tomorrow, she’ll be useless.”

“But it’s Friday. We both have work.”

“You do. Emily’s staying home. And just to make sure she does, I’ll come back first thing in the morning.”

“What will I tell the captain?”

Grasping the door handle, he shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can come up with a great excuse. Good night, and lock the door. I’ll stand outside until I hear you slide the bolt.”

Cutter didn’t have to wait long. Yoanni locked the door right away. He glanced at his watch. About twelve hours from now, he’d be knocking at the door with coffee and donuts. Emily wasn’t sneaking out to the office, not if he could help it. Her body needed to process the poison. And they had a few things to discuss. If she still wanted Cutter involved in her investigation, they were doing things his way.

As he reached his bike, a text from Blade buzzed.

Done with the rescue mission? Get back here. Interesting new friends have arrived. You gotta meet them.

Quickly, he typed back:On my way.

Cutter squeezed his bike in between Blade’s and Breaker’s. They’d be pissed off at him, but they’d get over it. The parking lot was so crowded, not a single space was available. Plus, he was a careful biker. His chopper wouldn’t touch theirs one bit.

The bar was hopping. It was hard to believe that so many people would come out of the woodwork to party on a weeknight, but they had. As he glanced toward the back, everyone was in the same place where he’d left them. Diesel was still holding court at his designated table. Cutter’s friends were seated in the same spots. But two new guys with major superior attitudes, one with a goatee, the other without, dressed in slacks and polo shirts, stood out from the jeans-and-leather biker crowd. The black BMW 7 series taking up two full spots outside had to be theirs.

Blade waved at him. “Join us.”

The guy with the goatee trained his sharp black eyes on him. For a weird moment, Cutter felt like a bug under a microscope.

“Look, Sir Knight is back.” Diesel’s laugh and voice warbled a little. “Are the ladies in distress safe at home?” The guy had to be drunk, which could work for or against Cutter. The next few minutes would tell.

“Safe and sound,” Cutter replied, sitting next to Beast. Someone had kept his old spot open.

“Cutter…this is…my friend Chema.” Speaking with obvious difficulty, Diesel held out his arm in the direction of the man with the goatee, then shifted to the other guy. “And…this one here is…Rulo. You don’t…need to worry. They both speak…English.”

Oh, yeah. Diesel was drunk.

The Rulo dude hissed a flurry of angry words Cutter guessed was Spanish to his friend. Evidently, he didn’t take too kindly to Diesel’s remarks.

“I’m not worried,” Cutter said, nodding at Chema across from him, then at Rulo to his right. Both men nodded back.

“Who are these women our friend Diesel is speaking about?” The question came from Rulo. Despite the heavy accent, his English was precise and formal.

“Ha…only a coupla lost…chicks looking for some…action.” Diesel hiccupped.

Chema made a face of disgust.

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