Page 9 of Tainted Blood

“Found who?”

“John,” he shouts. My mouth falls open. I’m glad I was already out on the main road and stopped at a red light because I would have freaking crashed.

“You are fucking kidding me. God, you better not be playing me.”

“Of course I’m not.”

“That’s fucking insane. Where?”

“Philly.”

“Oh my God. Is he okay?”

“Yeah, and we have to pick them up tonight from the airport. Shit. I’ve got a call on the other line and it’s important. I’ll call you in a bit.”

“Okay. I need to go home and change.”

He chuckled at my accidentally revelation as I hung up. I drove back to the estate and changed my clothes into a pair of jeans and a white tee with a leather jacket. I was in the kitchen about to make something to eat when Connor called to tell me he needs me on the docks with a problem.

I snag a granola bar and an energy drink before running out the door. It’s going to be a fucking long day. I’m at the dock pretty quickly, and I’m busting a couple of heads in no time because apparently some people don’t know who they’re dealing with.

After the problem is dealt with I hop into the driver’s seat of my bulletproof SUV. I tug on my shirt, annoyed at the red stains that mar it. “Son of a bitch.” I hate it when I get blood on my nice tees. It’s a real pain in the ass to have to toss them out. Sometimes they become the rags for my garage where I work on my cars and motorcycles.

Connor leans over the passenger side of my window and says, “Hey, remember we need to be leaving the house at five to go get them.” A damn bubble of excitement fills my gut at the idea of seeing my little brother again. It’s been a long painful fucking year.

“I’ll be outside your door at five ‘til.”

“Sounds good to me.” He taps the frame and straightens up.

“Good. See you later,” I say before raising the window, putting my vehicle into gear and then driving off. It takes an hour to get home, so I have a lot less time to dick around the house. Frankly, I’m tired and hungry. In the past twenty-four hours I’ve expended a lot of energy, and my ass needs to eat.

After parking my vehicle in my massive sixteen car garage, I walked through the connecting door, and headed directly up to my laundry room. I strip out of my clothes to deal with this shirt. I bust out a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and squeeze some on the stains. They bubble up and slowly start to break apart. I let it soak in the water basin and start a load before marching my ass to the special shower I have next to the laundry room for just this purpose. I washed all the blood off and quickly dried off, slipping on a pair of joggers and an A-shirt.

I set my alarm for a quick nap because I’m a believer in getting proper sleep. You can’t let your overworked muscle recover with rest, so I’ll sleep until four and then get ready to meet my brother.

Once that alarm goes off, I’m up and moving about. My nap set off a frenzy of crazy dreams all featuring my little runaway. I shake my head and try to get her out of my mind, but it doesn’t do me much good. Why the fuck did she run off without a goodbye? Was it the damn gun? I hadn’t been very careful about hiding it. It was a damn rookie move. I’d been so lost in the moment with her, and she’d seen the wrong weapon. Of course, I managed to play it off and was able to get her in bed, but maybe in the light of day and sober she realized the danger she was in and booked it out of the hotel as fast as she could, but my baby girl didn’t know who she was dealing with. As soon as my brother was nice and settled I was coming for her.

I change out of the joggers and slip on a pair of jeans and a dress shirt before adding my black leather jacket. My gun is tucked in my holster as I head out to a blacked-out SUV to scoop up Connor.

Thoughts of Calista are running through my head, to the point where it starts to throb. I should be happy, but I’m thoroughly annoyed today. I wonder if it’s just because I’m pissed that the pretty minx slipped away before I could get her information. I’ll find her soon, but right now, I have to think about John. God, I had lost all hope that he was alive. Now I know that he’s alive, and according to my brothers, John’s healthy. I send up a silent “thank you” that he’s safe.

As promised, I’m outside his door on time. He checks his watch and laughs. “Always on time.”

“Get in, or I’m leaving you here.”

“Whatever. You know damn well I can drive myself.” I shake my head and then lock the door before he grabs the handle. When he pulls it, he stumbles a step. “Come on, you dick.”

I chuckle and unlock the door. He gets in and flips me off. I drive out of the property laughing as I pull onto the road.

“So what happened to the girl from last night? I’m guessing you hit it because you’re smiling.”

My face hardens and I’m unable to mask it like I normally can. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I grumble, driving to the airport. I’m pissed at myself for failing such an easy task.

“Wow, I was wrong. Someone didn’t get lucky with the hot chick.”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it,” I bark out.

“Okay, okay.” He throws his hands up. “Sorry, bro. At least you’re not like Jack. He’s gonna marry the woman who had John.”

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