Page 46 of Rafe: Sins of the Father

“Yeah.”

“You good with that?”

I nod, staring at the bar top, flipping a coaster over and over, lost in thought.

“You sure about that? It means you’ll have to keep seein’ her. After what happened with you and Sutton—”

“This is nothing like me and Sutton.”

“Okay, I get that.” He cocks his head and bumps my elbow. “C’mon, Rafe. What’s wrong?”

TJ shuffles out and takes the bar stool on Billy’s other side, yawning. “Hit me up, prospect.”

Cody fills him a mug.

The sound of a motorcycle pulling up outside carries to us and a minute later, the door opens, bright sunshine flashing inside and around the silhouette of Green.

He takes the stool on my other side. “So, what are you little grasshoppers up to today?”

I shrug.

His eyes move from me to Billy. “What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know,” Billy replies. “He won’t tell us.”

Green waves Cody over, and the prospect pours him a coffee, then Green points to the line of liquor bottles on the shelf in front of the mirror behind the bar. “Bring me the Baileys.”

“Um, sorry. The girls drank us out of it last night.”

“Son of a bitch,” he grumbles. “I was salivating all the way over here thinking about having a Bailey’s and coffee.”

“Got Kahlua, got some Jameson. You want an Irish Coffee?”

Green huffs. “Fine. Bring me the bottle of Jameson.”

When Cody hands it over, Green pours a measure in his mug, then tips the bottle over my mug and passes it down to Billy and TJ. After he takes a gulp, he leans on his elbows and dips his head close to mine.

“Tell me your troubles, Little Grasshopper.”

I relent and tell all three of them the whole incident from last night, how Connor and his buddies have been tormenting Tori and how I found a damn tracker on her car this morning.

Green lifts a brow. “So that’s why you needed that device. What’d you do with the tracker?”

I meet his eyes. “Stuck it to my gas tank.”

He laughs. “That’ll be a surprise, now, won’t it?”

“I want to kill the son-of-a-bitch. They had her down on the bed when I got there, Green. There were three of them. Goddamn three of them. Shit, if I hadn’t heard her scream…”

Green slaps a hand on my shoulder. “Then let’s take care of the little fucker.”

“He’s the son of the Governor,” I drop the bomb.

“No shit?” Green’s eyes widen. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah, so that’s the problem.”

“Fuck that,” Green says and points a finger at me. “You like this girl; you take care of business. Hell, we met her. We all like her.”

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