Page 36 of Savage Protector

Chapter Fifteen

Houston

Houston rounded the corner to the rooftop pool and smiled when he passed the spot he’d fucked his princess the first time. That lounge chair was going to hold a special place in his memory for some time to come.

It was still weird to think how much she’d gotten under his skin in such a short time. He didn’t normally do anything long term. Hell, not even short term unless they were talking one night. Since joining the Corps he’d stuck to that self-imposed rule with an iron clad grip.

However, since the moment she’d nervously walked down that pier looking scared and relieved at the same time, he’d instinctively known his life was about to change.

And after she’d shared that story about her father, he had no intention of letting her go anywhere without him until he had some assurances she’d be safe. He’d already started placing some calls to his contacts and would soon have a network in place. But first…

He wanted the name of her father. She’d changed the subject twice and twice he’d let her get away with it. One way or another, he’d have that information by tonight. Whoever he was, he already wanted to kill him for what he’d done to her.

He lifted his gaze to seek out the woman in question to find her chair empty. Probably in the ladies head.

Up until now he’d forced himself to put the rest of his questions on ice and give her the time she requested. Now, however, it was time to get down to business. The knot in his stomach was continuing to grow the longer they waited. He was a man of action and this waiting was killing him.

She was trying to bury her head in the proverbial sand over her situation, which he now believed was more serious than he’d first thought. At first her sleepy comment about not wanting to die seemed over dramatic, but after all the chunks of information she’d shared over the last couple of days he now suspected she underestimated the danger she faced.

But he couldn’t decide what else he needed to do to get her to safety, if she didn’t give him all the information she possessed.

As he neared their space he noticed Izzy’s drink glass shattered on the ground by her chair. The small white purse she seemed reluctant to let out of her sight also on the ground.

He jerked around and searched the area. No sign of Izzy or anyone else. Houston's heart raced. He backtracked to the head and stormed into the ladies room.

“Izzy,” His voice echoed through the small room as he pounded on each of the empty stalls. “Shit.”

Panic squeezed his heart. Something was very wrong.

He returned to their chairs and collected her purse. It seemed unlikely she’d wander off without this. Women guarded these idiotic things like their lives depended on it and she’d been no exception.

When one of the pool attendants walked by, he stopped him and asked, “Have you seen the woman I was with?”

He shook his head. “Nah, man. We just had a shift change and I just came on duty.”

His bad feeling grew.

With his gut telling him that something bad had happened driving him, Houston slipped open the zipper and pawed through her meager belongings. His hand wrapped around a thick roll of bills and pulled them out.

What the hell?

He flipped through the money, counting as he went. For some reason she was carrying over ten thousand dollars in cash.

The knot in his gut tightened some more.

Digging deeper he pulled out a drivers license that read Isabelle Martin with a local Seattle address listed on it. He slid the card into his back pocket in case he needed it later and searched for anything else that might give him a clue about what was going on. Pocket after pocket he found nothing of consequence. A tube of lip gloss, the business card from a local cab company and a pair of nail clippers. He crumpled the little bag in his fist.

Think.

He shoved the money back in her bag, scraping his finger across a tiny zipper he’d not noticed the first time he searched. He slid it open and fished out another Washington State drivers license. A more recent photo of Izzy greeted him this time that made him curious about the age of the one in his pocket. But it was the rest of the information presented that made his blood run cold. Particularly her name.

Isabella Mazzeo.

Ten years away didn’t mean he didn’t recognize the name as soon as he saw it. There were some things too powerful to ever be forgotten. And the name Mazzeo was one of them.

As a young teenager, Houston hero-worshipped his father, following him around and trying to learn everything he could from him about Wrath. One of the most important lessons he remembered was what his father did to people who betrayed him or the club. He’d witnessed more than one ruthless death and he'd fought his way through more than one gunfight. So he easily remembered his father’s number one enemy. Frank Mazzeo, the purported mob king of Seattle. Purveyor of drugs, porn and pussy in a city that refused to believe the mob had any real control.

Was Izzy his…

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