Page 19 of Burning Bridges

Priscilla stands in my doorway, her sandy-blonde hair wild in bouncy curls that frame her face. She smiles at me like she’s sorry to interrupt, but it’s important. “Sorry, I wanted to catch you before you left. I was caught up with a client when you got here.”

I motion for her to come in. “What’s wrong?”

“There was a man here looking for you this morning.” She looks unsure.

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know, but he didn’t look like the type of guy you want to mess with. He was massive and wearing one of those Kings jackets, you know, the guys from the desert.”

I give her my full attention, a shiver running down my spine at the mention of that name. I hate the Kings with a passion. They are the most brutal gang this side of California. And we have history. One I don’t want repeated.

“He left you this.” She hands me an envelope. My heart pounds faster, the sickening feeling of fear rippling over me.

“Did you ask for a name or anything?” I stutter out, almost too frightened to open the blank envelope in my shaky hands.

“No, I was caught off guard. Sorry.”

I take a pair of scissors from my desk and slice open the edge of the envelope. Inside, there is a note and some photos. As I slip them out, I feel the color drain from my face when I see more clearly what they are. "Did he say he would be back?" I ask, trying not to show how shaken I am.

"No. Is everything all right?" Priscilla asks.

"Yes. I just need to make a call. Can you watch Hannah for me, maybe paint her nails when Erin's done with her hair?" I say, trying to keep my voice calm. The last thing I need is for my staff to see me lose it, but I'm on the verge.

"Of course. Let me know if I can help in any other way," she says, closing the door behind her.

I collapse in my seat, my trembling legs unable to bear the weight of it all anymore. It's all too much. I pull the images out of the envelope properly. It's Gator all right, and he is very dead. Chopped into bits, but his face was left intact enough that I can make out who he is. With shaky hands, I open the note. It's scribbled handwriting, barely legible, but I can make out what I need to.

"Gator sends his sincerest apologies for what happened to your mother. He won't make the same mistake twice. That's how we run things around here. Maybe you should look into your enforcement a little better. Good help is hard to find. Or call on The Kings next time you need help. Looks like the Stones and Riveras are losing their touch."

I feel like I could be sick. I've seen stuff like this before, but there is something about this that is so much more disturbing. Maybe it's because of who this message is from.

Without even thinking, I pick up the phone and dial Axel. This is bigger than what I can deal with alone.

He picks up on the third ring. "Yeah."

"Gator is no longer a problem," I murmur, still in shock after what I read.

"Are you sure?" he demands, not believing that someone else could do the job I asked him to do.

"Uh-huh."

"Piper, you sound strange."

"I'm freaking the fuck out, Axel. That's why," I cry into the phone, my emotions getting the better of me. Tears I have been holding in for way too long break free and stream down my face.

"Where are you?" he asks, sounding panicked.

"At the salon," I sniff.

“I’ll be there in ten.” He disconnects the call, not giving me a chance to argue with him. But I wouldn’t even if I could. I need to see him. Whatever this is, it's not good, and I have run out of strength to handle the mounting problems on my own.

For five minutes, I pace my office, trying not to lose it completely. I have my tears under control. It was just a moment of weakness fueled by the panic of seeing the name King in writing. Now my mind is racing with all the possibilities of what this could mean and why these particular thugs are contacting me now.

“Piper.” I hear Axel’s voice and a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I call back to him.

He storms in the door, coming over to me and pulling me into his body. “What the hell is going on?”

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