Page 6 of Nines's Time

“Do we know anything more about this group called the Crimson Bloods?” I ask looking to Keys.

“No just that Douglas Mann was a part of it along with his brother, but no name for him is mentioned. We’re in the dark about who he is,” Keys answers, grimacing. None of us like the fact we don’t know what’s going on, and it’s not easy to deal with being in the dark.

“Keys, keep looking, maybe talk with Nerd, he might be able to help give insight,” Blow states, bringing the gavel down on the table. “Let’s get out there and see what’s happening.”

Meaning the man wants to check on Storm and the triplets. I still can’t believe they had triplets. Three boys at that.They’re just over a month now, and Blow is as protective over them as he is over his woman. Not that I blame him. If I had a kid, I’d be the same way.

Filing out of the room, Blow and I are two of the last to leave.

“You talk to Markus today?” he asks.

“Yeah, he’s meeting with Adams and another guy Monday about what’s going on,” I inform him and release a harsh breath. I don’t like to think about the bullshit I’m in right now. But more often than not, I find myself doing just that. Who wouldn’t, though? I’m being charged for a crime I didn’t commit. I’m being set up. I don’t like any of it and it straight up pisses me off that I can’t do anything about the charges right now.

On top of that, no matter my alibi which is airtight since they have me on video footage. The cops handling the case wouldn’t listen to either Markus or myself. They claim to have my DNA from the scene, but that can’t be possible ‘cause I don’t even know who the hell the girl is they’ve got saying I raped her. One of the detectives showed me her picture and I about puked in my mouth at the sight of her. She’s not only a minor but looks like a little kid, but evidently, she’s seventeen. There’s no way I’d have touched that.

“That’s good. We’ll get this taken care of and prove you didn’t do shit.”

“Just wish this shit didn’t happen in the first place.” I shake my head slightly as the main door catches my eye as it opens.

Stepping inside, I’m caught off guard as not only do Dorin and his son walk in, behind them is another man and woman. The woman is absolutely beautiful with her blonde hair falling over her shoulders. She’s dressed in jeans and open flannel shirt over a black tank top. And strangely enough she’s carrying a tray in her hands.

“Blow,” Dorin calls, getting my attention.

“Dorin,” Blow greets the other man.

“Where’s my granddaughter and great-grandsons?” Dorin demands, cocking a brow.

“Tata,” Rain yells from across the room causing Dorin to spin to face her. Behind her stands Sniper, his eyes glued to his woman as she makes fast work of closing the distance between her and her father.

Dorin was supposed to have visited before now, but business kept him from being able to do so. This is the first time he’s seen her in years, I suppose.

“Fiica.”

If I could leave, I’d suggest we give them a moment of privacy, but there’s no time for that. Dorin and his son are here for a reason. To provide us with information that he has on the Crimson Bloods.

“I better go get my woman and the boys,” Blow mutters. “Stay here and find out who the hell the other man and woman are.”

“You got it,” I grunt.

Not exactly what I want to do, but I’ll do it regardless. We don’t need any more surprises.

Before I have the chance to do as Blow asks, Storm and Chelsea step out of the kitchen. Chelsea stops dead while Storm smiles, their gazes on the new people that have come in.

Chelsea shocks me though when she calls out, “Meadow.”

The woman who came in behind Dorin and his son blinks and smiles brightly.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to come,” Storm adds. “Where’s your visitor, did you leave them at home?”

“Oh, um, I . . . no,” Meadow says meekly and glances at the man next to her. “This is Gavril.”

“Ladies,” Gavril states, looking at them briefly before pressing a hand to Meadow’s lower back and saying something only she can hear.

Meadow nods and bites her lower lip before stepping toward Storm and Chelsea holding out the containers she’s carrying. “I brought goodies,” she announces shyly.

I don’t know what it is about her, but she catches my attention. Too bad this isn’t the time. Especially not knowing who she is to this Gavril and what he’s doing here in the first place.

CHAPTERFIVE

---