Page 69 of Dark Horse

“A message about what?” She looks confused.

“I don’t know yet. I only have suspicions. But I’m going to find out tomorrow.” I grit my teeth at the thought of having to go and find my uncle. Apparently, he isn’t going to be ignored.

“Just be careful. I don’t want you getting into something because of me. I’m fine.” Her fingers slip down my forearm, and my eyes are drawn to the red marks on her wrists where the cuffs pinched her skin.

“I’ll be as careful as the situation dictates.” It’s the best I can promise. “Now, get in the shower so we can get you to bed. Just set the clothes on the counter here, and I’ll swap them out for clean ones.”

“Yes, sir.” She gives me a soft smile, and her eyes drift over my face for a minute before she speaks again. “Thank you for this and for getting me tonight.”

“Of course. That’s what I’m here for.” I pull myself away because if I stay a minute longer, I worry I’ll do and say things I’ll regret.

TWENTY-SEVEN

GRANT

Jack and Sam,two of my security team who work for the Horsemen, follow me up the narrow walkway to the back of Officer Spencer’s house. Levi already did the research and asked around, confirming that he works the night shift and that the white Camaro we passed in the drive is his. He’s also divorced, and she has custody of the kids, so we don’t have to worry about any other family disturbing our meeting this morning.

We walk up the aging steps of his back deck, and I nod for Sam to make his way around to the master bedroom window. It’s half-open, letting in the cool morning air, and I want him ready in case we have to choose an alternate entry point. Then I rap my knuckles on the back door.

Sam confirms the sound of movement in themaster bedroom with a nod, and Jack presses his body up against the side of the house so he’s out of view as I hear footsteps through the house. A disheveled mop of hair presses against the glass of one of the windows, peering out at me, and then I hear the sound of his footfalls approaching the door. It opens a moment later, and he answers with a sneer.

“What the fuck do you want? Do you know what time it is?” he bitches immediately, and we’re already off to a bad start.

“Not a very polite way to answer the door to company.” I make a disapproving sound at the back of my throat.

“I got better ones.” He pulls his hand from behind the door frame and waves a gun back and forth before he narrows in on me, his eyes squinting in the sunlight.

Jack doesn’t hesitate, reaching around to grab his wrist and bend it over the frame. It forces him to drop the gun, and it clatters to the ground. He goes to reach for Jack with his free hand, and I catch it, making him stumble out the door and onto the deck with both of us. He grunts and struggles, his bare feet searching for purchase before Jack kicks his legs out from under him. He stumbles face-first onto the deck, smashing into it with his nose as we yank his arms back behind him.

“Fuck you!! Who the fuck do you think you are?” he curses as blood smears on the deck from his face, and he fights the pressure we exert on his shoulder blades. It’s a useless attempt to buy time as Jack’s knee goes into his spine and mine goes to the back of his neck.

Sam arrives just in time to put the cuffs on his wrists, which are crossed behind his back, and pin his ankles with a booted foot.

“Trying to shoot us when we merely knock on the door sounds a lot like unlawful use of force, Michael. The kind of thing that I might answer with force to protect my life.” I grind the heel of my boot into the back of his neck. “Especially whenyou come on my property and rough up women. Are you that pathetic, you little prick? You have to toss women around and beat them up to feel like a man?”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” He grits out the words, clearly feeling the pain that we’re doling out.

“You can’t remember last night? Harassing some poor woman at a bar?”

“That slut who’s spitting whiskey for attention? She deserved what she had coming. Dumb fucking cunt wouldn’t listen.”

“Nah, Michael. I think you’re confused. You’re the dumb cunt not listening.”

Jack and Sam roll him over for me, and I kick him hard in the balls, making him curl up into the fetal position as his face turns bright red, and he rocks back and forth. It takes him a minute to respond, cursing under his breath and telling me to go fuck myself before he can form real words again. But he hasn’t learned his lesson. He starts over again.

“You fucking asshole. All this for that bitch? You know she’s probably been run through by half the men in that bar.”

“Wrong fucking answer.” I shake my head. “I don’t think you’re learning your lesson here, Michael. We need less talking and more listening. But maybe I can help you with that.”

I strike him hard in his windpipe. He wheezes and gasps for air. Trying and failing to grasp his throat with his hands as he tries to wiggle them out of the cuffs behind his back.

“Oh damn. I’m fucking sorry. Did that make it hard to breathe?” I taunt him.

“Fuck you.” He sputters, rolling over to his side, but he quits mouthing off, blood still trickling down his face from his nose.

“I want to be very clear that you don’t touch women like that ever, but you especially don’t touch women in my townthat way. My family, my property, my friends, my fucking barista—I don’t fucking care. I see it, and I will bring it back to you ten fucking fold. Do you hear me?” I crouch down to his level, making sure he can hear every word.

“Fuck you.” It’s a raspy whisper now, and he spits out a mouthful of blood. Apparently, his vocabulary is limited.

---