Page 73 of Riot

I readthrough the file on my laptop. It’s late and I couldn’t sleep. I left Halo in the bedroom with Cookie, choosing not to take work into the bedroom. I'm sitting at her island bench, studying the information Rock sent over.

Of course, if I hadn’t been so busy pursuing Halo, I’d have taken a little more notice of the news.

Sure as fuck, it’s been playing for the last few weeks.

They haven’t caught the guy, and he’s killed anyone associated with Mancini’s demise. Of course, the feds claim that Mancini himself was taken down in a revenge attack; the trouble was, the asshole had so many enemies it couldn’t be determined who it was who took his life. That’s something I take quite a lot of pride in.

That may be something that’s part of my past, but I’ll never look back and have any regrets. They were bad people. My job served a purpose in more ways than one.

If there was a chance anyone would know who it was that took Mancini out, then it would be my handler, Carter. I keep reminding myself I’m in the clear. This is just some vigilante who probably got screwed over. If the rest of the Mancini familyhaven’t found me in all these years, then I’m pretty sure I’m safe. The Russians finished what I started, so it isn’t like the underworld hasn’t been operating all this time. The Russians just do things a little differently.

Still, the results are in and it’s damning.

An ex-colleague of Mancini who started up a rival business — I guess he had it coming. That’s what you get when you want to conduct business in the underworld. Shit goes bad.

A rival gang member.

Mancini’s old accountant.

Two unidentified men, whose names haven’t been released, but are thought to have been working for Mancini, both gunned down in broad daylight.

I run my hands through my hair. I should be a little bit worried. Whoever’s responsible for this is leaving no stone unturned, and when I get a text from Rock with a link to today’s news, my mood plummets farther.

An associate of Dimitri Minkoff, the Bratva boss in Chicago, was gunned down at point blank range and left in an alleyway. It’s all over the goddamn news.

I want to call Cash, but it’s late and with a baby in the house, that wouldn’t be cool. It can wait until tomorrow. Still, the feeling inside makes me a little jittery. Now that I’m back being a responsible citizen, and I’ve got people to live for, things have changed since I worked solo. I no longer ever want to live life on the run, so a part of me is being overly cautious by even reading this shit. It’s irresponsible not to. I worked alone, and when Lars died, he was the only one who knew who I was. Even then, he didn’t know the real me. I lived in the shadows. No face. No ID. Nothing concrete. It’s why I’m still alive today, because I covered all my bases.

I run both hands over my face.

Nobody can be trusted in the type of business I used to be in, but I wouldn't put my club in danger. The other question is, why now? Eight years later. If someone really was holding a grudge, then why wait all this time to act?

I sigh. Not being able to sleep has always meant I’ve had a lot of free time to watch movies, surf the net or even read, but all I want to do is crawl back into bed and be near Halo.

I’m still pissed about earlier today. This Ian fuckface.

Who the hell does he think he is? I plan on making a trip up to his apartment to finish what we started. Even knowing Halo will be mad at me, doesn’t make me want to stop. He has to know who he’s dealing with, and that I’m serious when I told him to stay away from her. The asshole had his foot stuck in the door.

Before I shut the screen down, I tap out a reply to Rock, then ask him to get me access to the Penthouse suite. Fuck knows how he’s gonna do that, but it ain’t my issue. Even if I swiped Halo’s fob, it wouldn’t get me to the top floor… I already tried. But IanfuckfaceFlannigan is gonna learn the hard way. Don’t mess with me, and don’t come near my girl.

It’s a hard lesson to learn, especially beating him with my fists, but sometimes you just gotta jump in and remind people of their place. I don’t care that he was wearing an expensive suit, drives a designer car and lives in the penthouse suite, conveniently located in my girl’s apartment block; he owes her an apology. I’m starting to wonder what kind of family life she has at home if this is how her parents treat her; sending this asshole to spy on their daughter and try to bring her home. I’m not gonna stand for that shit. When Halo agreed to be mine, that meant that my job of protecting her from danger just got all the more real.

I don’t trust him. He moved here for one reason, and one reason only, and I’m not gonna let him get in the way of me and my girl. I don’t give a fuck who he thinks he is, or how muchmoney he has. I have money too. Maybe not a new Bentley or a flashy suit and a three hundred dollar haircut, but I’m doing alright. I’m not gonna let the idea of him and Halo together derail me. She loves me. She said it. We both said it, and it may be early days but I know how I feel, and I’m nuts about her.

It’s gonna take Heaven or high water to get me to ever abandon my post, so Ian either better get a goddamn canoe, or scuttle back to St Charles’ Parish where he belongs.

He’ll be lucky if I don’t drag his ass downstairs to Halo’s door to apologize. I guess it depends on what kind of mood I’m feeling in the morning.

Then again, I’ve never been a morning person.

Just keep holdin’ on. Don’t let go.

I wake with a start; Charles’ words in replay from when I was a kid. For a second, I don’t know where I am.

Then I feel it. Something’s licking me… I smile, snuggling into the wet, sloppy tongue on my neck and murmur, “Mornin’, sleepy head.”

The licks continue. “Nice way to wake up.” I roll onto my back, then when I peek one eye open, I jolt upright. Cookie is slobbering all over me with a big goofy grin on his face.

“Oh my God!” Halo laughs as I glance up. She’s carrying two mugs of steaming coffee into the bedroom, but came to a halt probably when I was getting off to the dog licking me. Jesus.

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