Page 46 of Reckless Forever
I turned to him in confusion. Jax might have been the quiet one, but he was never the one to duck any smoke.
“What you mean?” I gritted.
“We’re down with whatever, and you know that. But if you love Ivy, this shit is going to come back to bite you in the ass. Santos damn near helped raise her and her father. She loves him just like she loves you. If you kill him, y’all won’t last longer than a year. I mean, if I saw him at the red light, I would do it myself with no hesitation. But once he’s gone, be prepared to lose her.” He said as he impatiently tapped his gun on his knee.
Trouble’s eyes looked at me through the rearview mirror to see what my response would be. I sat and thought about what Jaxon said.
“You said a year, right?” I asked. They both laughed.
Santos had already done way too much to spare him. He tried to get Ivy to leave me, put a hit out on me, and ran in my moms’ spot. If I could spend a year with the woman of my dreams, I might be aight.
“Fucking clown,” Trouble scoffed as we pulled into the strip where the jet waited for us to take us back home.
Once we were in the sky, I logged into the security system at the safe house and checked the cameras. I found the room where Ivy was sleeping and clicked on it. She was in there with my nieces on the side of her, curled up and taking a nap. Shit fucked me up as I watched them for a second before clicking off and going to her tap on her phone.
Ivy didn’t know, but I hacked into her phone and read her messages. It wasn’t on no insecure shit, but I knew that she was in a weird position. She was caught between two different types of loyalty, and I felt like there would be some things that she didn’t tell me, and I was right.
That nigga who was her security guard, Emilio, had been blowing her phone up nonstop to get her to come back to Bolivia so he could save his ass. He knew he slept on the job when he let her walk off from the conference for seven days. I couldn’t wait to use one of those shock collars that I programmed on his ass. Because if he thought that he was going to talk her into leaving with him, he had me fucked up.
I had already decided that it was blood over that, and it was nothing they could do to change my mind.
When all this started, I disabled her location and her ability to share it with anyone. After I read through the messages to see what he had been saying, I clicked out of it and tried to clear my mind long enough to check all of our properties.
I reviewed the manifests and logs from all our businesses to make sure nothing was out of place. Niggas might not strike us directly, but they might cause problems elsewhere. Once nothing seemed out of the ordinary, I put my phone back in my pocket and got a plan together.
Every angle is covered and every risk is identified and addressed. Santos could try whatever he wanted. He could hide and plot. But Ivy? She wasn’t going anywhere. He might have run shit in Bolivia, but as soon as I made up my mind that I wanted her, that meant that I wanted everything attached to her, even if it was a problem. Because there was nothing that could shake me.
As soon as we touched down in the States, I had Hollow meet us at the landing strip. When we landed, he had the engine running, and the headlights were the only thing cutting through the darkness of the night. Nobody said a word as we climbed into the truck. But the air inside felt tight, like even breathing too hard might set shit off. I was already itching to get back to the safe house to Ivy. That was, until my phone vibrated in my lap.
Door open.
It was a notification from the safe house, and it made my stomach drop.
I flipped over to the camera feed so fast my thumb damn near cracked the screen, and there was Ivy and Sanchez walking out the front door together. My chest squeezed as I tried to process the shit in front of me. My girl is disappearing into the night with another man.
My mind had a million thoughts all at once, but they all led to the same conclusion. Where the fuck were they going at three in the morning? What the fuck was Sanchez doing driving her around like her chauffeur? I don’t give a fuck about his promotion in JMF. If some creep shit was going on, Trouble was about to be down a soldier.
I watched Sanchez open the truck door for her, like it was routine, and she climbed in. They pulled off smooth with no hesitation, like it wasn’t the middle of the gah damn night. My chest was caving in.
I went to the tap I had on her phone and swiped fast. Then I went back through the messages to see what kind of communication she had been having. And what I saw made myheart race. It was a thread from Emilio; he had sent her the video that we sent Santos from inside the estate.
She wasn’t cheating on me; she was in the middle of some other shit.
And then another thread caught my eye. It was from Santos. He was telling her that he had our jet and that she needed to come back to Bolivia.
“Fuck!” I hit the window. My agitation broke the silence in the truck. Trouble’s head whipped toward me. So did Jax’s eyes as he waited for me to say what was wrong.
Before I could even break it all down, I saw Ivy trying to send her location, but it was blocked. Seconds later, she sent another message with a meet-up location.
“She texted her security to come get her,” I said, voice low but deadly. The heat in my body was some shit that I couldn’t even explain.
Jax’s head snapped so fast his neck almost cracked. “She gave that nigga the safehouse location?”
“Nah, she left with Sanchez. He’s taking her to the pharmacy on Broadway. Drive over there before he makes it to her.” I answered Jax, then gave an order to Hollow.
We jerked as Hollow damn near did the dashboard in that direction. My phone was pressed to my ear, over and over, as I called her. It kept going to voicemail; her phone was either dead or she had turned it off. All I could see was red.
Trouble pulled his phone from his pocket. “Let me call this nigga.”
