Page 17 of Gangster Daddy's Girl

“You’re an idiot,” I mutter to myself.

After making sure my apartment is all buttoned up, I climb into bed, pull the covers up to my chin, and lie there staring at the ceiling. I already know sleep is not going to come easily tonight. I blow out a long, loud breath and close my eyes, trying to force myself to go to sleep. It feels like hours have passed, but when I glance at my clock, I see it’s been about ten minutes. Somebody knocks on my door, and my heart leaps into my throat as an excited smile crosses my face. Throwing the covers back, I jump out of bed and dash through the apartment.

I unlock the door and pull it open. “Why didn’t you text me?—”

The words die on my lips when I see it’s not Tyson standing there but two men I don’t know. They’re both a few years older than me, with dark hair and brown eyes. Other than one being about six feet tall and the other just five-nine or so, they look a lot alike. There’s something about them that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and sends cold goosebumps rushing across my skin. Something familiar, though I can’t quite place it. Whatever it is, I instantly don’t like them, nor do I feel safe.

“C-can I help you?” I ask.

The taller of the two smirks at me. “Hey, babe. Don’t you remember us?”

My knees immediately grow weak, and my legs feel like they’re about to give out beneath me as I recognize them. They’re the two men who harassed me when Tyson stepped in. They exchange a look and a smile, knowing I finally put the pieces together and know who they are. The shorter of the two elbows the other one as he chuckles.

“Yeah, she knows us,” he says.

“Yes, she does,” the other one says.

I move to slam the door, but he steps forward, blocking it with his foot. He’s standing so close to me, his dark eyes boring into mine. My skin grows cold, and my throat grows dry.

“You need to come with us,” he says. “Now.”

13

TYSON

“Fuck,” I groan and toss my phone down on my desk.

We’ve come up empty in our search for the two dipshits. Frankly, I’m surprised. Neither of them is particularly bright, and I never anticipated that they’d be this resourceful. Desperation really has brought out the best in them. I’m going to thoroughly enjoy beating the shit out of them. On the bright side, none of my workers has been hit the last couple of nights.

Marco sees that as an ominous sign. As them ramping up to something bigger. I tend to agree. What that might be, I don’t have any idea. I suppose it’s possible they could make a play for my business, but I don’t think they’re quite ready to make that jump to the big leagues just yet. As far as I know, they don’t have the manpower or resources to pose a serious threat.

The other side of that coin is that I seem to be right. Marco has reached out to his people, and so far as we can tell, neither Rodney nor Hector is behind the hits. It’s possible they’re moving covertly, and Marco is still beating the bushes to eitherconfirm or debunk it, but right now, there’s nothing that points to either of them. Which leaves me back at this being Rico and Dawson’s doing, as stupid a move as it seems to be.

“So, what the fuck are they up to?”

I sigh and pick up my phone then lean back in my chair. As much as this situation is pissing me off, the fact that I haven’t heard from Tabitha in a couple of days has me more concerned. With a potential war popping off, I should be focused on that, but I can’t get her out of my head. She’s never gone this long without returning my texts since we started seeing each other. I don’t think I’ve done anything to upset her, and as far as I know, the last time we were together, we had a good time. She seemed fine. So why has she gone radio silent on me?

Stuck in the middle of this shitstorm, I should be focusing on getting my house in order. I should be locked in on dragging Rico and Dawson’s stupid asses in to show them what happens to punks like them. That’s where my head should be. That’s the only goddamn thing I should be worried about right now. But it’s not. Instead of all that, I’m sitting here wondering if I did something to piss her off. Clearly, my priorities are all fucked up.

At the same time, I think it’s kind of telling. The fact that I’m less invested in what’s going on all around me than I am in figuring out what I did to piss off Tabitha has me questioning some things in my life right now. It feels like all the thought I’ve given to getting out of this life has led me to this point. I finally feel like I have the motivation to pull the plug. I know Tabitha has reservations about being with me while I’m running the show, and I’ve started thinking that maybe the time has come. Maybe I finally have a good reason to do it.

Some might say it’s ridiculous to throw away everything I’ve built for a woman. But the truth is, I’ve never really been one hundred percent in on this life. I’ve done it because I had to. It’s what I needed to do to survive. But now, I’ve got more than I could ever possibly need and have options. There are things I could do. Things I want to do. Where I couldn’t have done any of those things before, now I have that ability. Maybe the time is right.

Or at least, maybe it will be once I put down this little rebellion and get my shit in order again. If I’m going to walk away, I’m not going to do it while there are people stirring up shit. I’m not going to leave this little slice of my world in chaos. If I’m going to leave, I’m going to turn everything over to Marco, and I refuse to leave the kingdom in turmoil. If I’m going to leave, I’m going to make sure my house is in order before I do.

My cellphone chirps with an incoming video call, cutting into my thoughts. Without thinking, I connect the call and find myself staring at Rico. My eyes narrow, and my jaw instantly clenches as I look at his smug, smiling face.

“You’ve got more balls than I ever gave you credit for,” I say.

“Hey, Tyson. How’s it hangin’?” he says with a grin.

“You know it’s only a matter of time before I find you, right? And when I do?—”

“Save it,” Rico interrupts. “Spare me your tough guy bullshit.”

I let out a wry chuckle. “You’re pretty ballsy when you’re on the other end of the phone. Why don’t you and I link up?—”

“It’s time for new management,” he cuts me off.

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