Page 46 of Property of Grifter
I shrug.“He’s really hot.Nana and I watch everything he’s in.”When I look up at him, he sends me a put-out glare.“You’re not allowed to think any man is hot but me,” he grumbles.
I roll my eyes.“I’m too tired to deal with you tonight, Griff.”He frowns at me, even as I curl into him.“You’re just being silly,” I mutter.
“You’re mine, not some asshole named Pedro,” he murmurs.His thumb begins brushing against my hand.I press my forehead to his chest and breathe, listening to the slow, steady beat that is always a kind of home.
“I’m yours,” I agree, letting him comfort me.
Scorpion finishes typing and clicks.“Okay.I’m in.Here we go.”The computer connects with the television on the wall and all eyes move to it.Even the men who have been in the background move closer.
“How’s Nana?”Grifter asks, while we wait for Scorpion to key up tonight’s footage.
“She’s sleeping,” I say.“They gave her meds at the hospital to calm her.She’s shaken up and mad as a wet hen, but she’s okay.”My voice catches and I press my mouth to his shirt because saying it aloud is hard—it’s almost like reliving it again.I could have lost her tonight and a world without Nana is something I never want to fathom.
Scorpion freezes a frame on the television.“I think this is what we’re looking for,” he says a minute before he presses play.
“Motherfucker,” Cowboy growls.
A black four-door sedan glides into view on the screen.They are driving slowly, the way you drive if you are up to no good.The back door of the car opens up and a man steps out.The doorbell gets everything very clearly.This guy is young, has a bit of a beer belly.I’d guess he’s in his early twenties.He’s wearing jeans and a black sweater.His face is not pleasing at all to look at.He looks like he has no idea about basic skin care.There’s also a small scar above his right eye.He moves with a cockiness that actually surprises me.If I had seen this guy on the street, I would imagine he’d disappear in a crowd.There’s nothing about him that stands out.Clearly, however, he thinks he should.
“Motherfucker,” Cowboy repeats.
Griffin’s voice is tight.“Do you know him, Cowboy?”
Cowboy’s eyes don’t leave the screen.The look on his face is one of pain.Scorpion zooms, clarifies and cleans up the image once he freezes it again.
“I may not know the man, but I know that bitch.I let her suck my cock before you kicked her out, Prez.Remember?”
My insides go cold as I look at the girl that’s sitting in the passenger seat that the man just climbed out of.You can see her clearly sitting there with a smile on her face.It’s Daisy.
Griffin stares, his arms that have been holding me gently tighten as his anger settles inside of him.“Motherfucker,” he growls, low and furious.“I should’ve killed that bitch when I had the chance.”
“Is the man part of the War Kings?”I ask, because I know Griffin has been worried about another fight with them.
Scorpion hits play again, and we watch as the man grabs a glass bottle with a cloth hanging out of it, that Daisy hands him.The bitch even claps her hands as the man takes a lighter and sets the fabric on fire.The man takes a quick step, brings his arm back and hurls it through the big picture window in the front of the house.He climbs inside as the flames catch the house, spreading destruction with each flicker of the flames.The car peels away down the road and we see Cowboy running toward the burning house.The fact he ran into the house when flames were raging everywhere blows my mind.He saved my Nana.I owe him everything.
Cowboy answers before Scorpion can.“That kid’s Ace’s son.My so-called nephew.He’s a piece of shit that drained my brother’s bank accounts dry numerous times.He’s always needing bailed out for something stupid he got into.Ace cut ties with him it got so bad.The kid wanted to muscle into our club.Hell, after Ace’s death, he wanted to take over.We shot that shit down at once.He’s a sniveling asshole and if he hadn’t been Ace’s own blood, he would have killed him years ago.That’s how bad things were.”
Griffin swears,the sound sharp and ugly.“Fucking hell.We’ve been looking in the wrong direction.”He looks up at C.“I’d lay money that’s the prick who took shots at me.He came after me and he hurt the women I love.I’m not Ace.That kid is not my blood.I’m going to end him.Cowboy, if you don’t want to be part of it, I completely understand, but you need to know, he takes his last breath tonight.”
My throat tightens.I can feel the air in the room change — the men around the table harden and now look every inch the outlaw bikers that the town talks about.
“If you go to jail, I’ll never forgive you,” I blurt out, heart striking hard hammer-like blows against my chest.“And I am not doing conjugal visits.”
He looks at me with that dangerous, soft thing in his eyes and grins.“Did you hear the part where I said I love you?”
“Yeah,” I say, stubborn as a mule.“I’m ignoring that until you do what you have to and come back to me—preferably not in handcuffs.”
“You make one hell of an old lady, Georgie,” he says, brushing his lips against mine.
I correct him, half-smile.“You can call me, Brushes.”
He laughs and kisses me again.Then he stands, sets me gently back in the chair as if I’m the most fragile thing in the world he’s sworn to protect.“C, Savage and Skeeter — you’re with me.Cowboy, you stay here and?—”
“No.Ace would want me to see this through.It would kill him, but I need to be there.I should have ended him years ago myself.”
“If you’re sure,” Griffin says.
“Positive,” Cowboy replies, resolute.
