Page 15 of Graveyards & Greed

I grabbed two bottles of cold root beer from the fridge, popped the caps off, and slid one over to her. “Okay, what’s going on? Did the asshole finally push you too far, and you need help getting rid of the body? Because I can go heat up the cremator.” Roman was a bastard, but I grudgingly admitted that the other attorneys in his office seemed decent enough, and even helped Luna study for exams.

She grimaced. “No, it’s not that. It’s one of Roman’s partners.”

My heart rate spiked but I casually took a sip. “Yeah? Which partner?”

She hesitated, biting her lip. "Drakos Creed asked about you, and he told me to give you a message.”

Anticipation and anxiety rolled through me. “What’s the message?”

“That he’s coming for you.”

A shiver ran through me, and I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or excitement. What the hell did he mean by that, and why would he tell Luna? Drakos was a frustrating, fascinating enigma wrapped in a custom-tailored suit, and he’d taken up way too much space in my head since that night at Titties. I’d blocked his number when I left his loft that night, but I’d be unblocking him long enough to rip him a new one for dragging Luna into our mess.

“Weird. Why would he be coming for me?”

“I don’t know, but I think you do.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied me. “You two know each other somehow.”

Rolling my shoulders back, I took another sip. “A little. Declan and Callum are opening a grow facility in his neighborhood, and he’s upset about it.” It was a partial truth. In high school, the twins were funny, low-level potheads with little ambition. However, they’d surprised us all and predicted that marijuana would be legalized in Nevada, then learned the trade in time for the Spade family to capitalize on the new law. They’d made us a lot of money in the process.

The cold liquid didn't calm my nerves. Drakos Creed dropping a threat on my doorstep could only mean trouble.

Luna eyed me carefully. “That’s not what I think his warning was about. Should we be worried?”

Shrugging, I leaned against the counter. “No. Let him come. It’ll take more than some rich, well-dressed, sleazy lawyer to get under my skin.”

“Your bravado is both misplaced and inspiring. Drakos is rich and well-dressed, but he’s also brilliant and cunning, and based on the glint in his eye, I doubt he’s looking to get under your skin. It’s more like he wants to get inside your vagina—and have dirty, naughty sex with you. Tell me how you met.”

I choked on my root beer. “You’re wrong,” I coughed. She was absolutely right. “And we met at a bar.”

Luna took a swig and pointed the bottleneck at me. “You don’t go to bars.”

“Yeah, well, I went to a bar that night.”

“This has something to do with those missing bikers, doesn’t it? Did you and Drakos know each other before they went missing?”

Sometimes I forgot that for all her sweetness and humor, Luna’s sharp mind was like a Venus flytrap. Setting my bottle down on the counter, I stared at her. “Stop fishing. It’s dangerous for all of us.”

Worry crept into her eyes. “Whatever you did to that child rapist wasn’t enough, and I’m glad he’s gone. I know you won’t let Drakos’s threat go unanswered, even though that would be the intelligent, rational decision. So what are you going to do?”

Luna was trying to shame me into dropping Drakos’s threat, but there was no way I could let his challenge go unanswered. It just wasn’t in my DNA. “I’m thinking about it.”

We migrated to the living room, and she flopped down on the couch. “I tried to talk him out of it, but he only smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. Maybe you should keep a low profile for a while.”

I snorted. “No.”

“How about if I tell him you said he needs to leave you alone? That would be an acceptable reply.”

“No, that would be a perfectly boring reply. I have another idea.”

Luna shook her head and mumbled, “The chaos theory unleashes.”

“What does that mean?” I asked absently as I played through and discarded several ideas in my head—then it came to me and I sat up. “I know exactly how to respond.”

"Please tell me no one will lose a toe or end up in the hospital this time.”

I scowled at her, and my shoulders hunched. “I apologized to Callum a million times, and they sewed it back on.” When I was a young teen and Callum had been mercilessly teasing me about a boy, I’d “accidentally” dropped a kitchen knife on his foot and almost cut off his small toe. The episode had turned into a bloody, screaming mess, but the cousins quit teasing me about boys. Callum also stopped wearing flip-flops around me.

Luna gave a resigned sigh. “Let me know if you need help. Just remember, no animals get hurt, and I’d rather not kill or maim anyone. Otherwise, I’m your ride or die.”

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