Page 38 of Savage Hearts

I shifted and could feel the fabric of the dress moving against my skin. Hell, how was I supposed to ignore him when everything reminded me of him and all that had happened back at the salon?

I let out a surprised hiss of air when Maverick pulled me from my seat and, as on the drive here, he settled me on his lap.

I looked at him questioningly.

He didn’t say any more, but cupped the back of my head and held me against his chest.

I wondered if he was trying to comfort me in some way.

As if he wasn’t the very reason why I needed comforting in the first place.

And what was more?—

It was fucking working.

I closed my eyes, hating myself just a little bit more for being weak enough to take comfort in such a brute.

6

MAVERICK

We weresilent as we got out of the car, Killian on my right and Silas to my left.

This was the first meeting we would have with some of the gang leaders in Chicago since we’d killed Daniel Hayes and took control of his operation.

With the lucrative operation he had going, Hayes should have been able to rule the West with an iron fist.

Instead, the fucker had made a mess of things, and now he owed money to the wrong people.

They thought they would be getting their debt settled because we took over his operation.

They thought wrong.

I didn’t want things to get out of hand, or we would soon find ourselves in an all-out war, not only for Chicago but also for the operation.

Emilio nodded as he walked into the restaurant first.

As enforcer, he would have our backs and take out any of the fuckers should they make one wrong move.

But Chicago was not how it used to be when our father ran it.

There were other key players to contend with, and I would much rather make use of them when it served our purpose than to kill them all, allowing more chaos to make way into our city.

We walked into a small tavern located in the heart of downtown. The Late Night Oasis was owned and operated by one of our most trusted men.

It was also where most of our business deals took place, and today, it had been closed early for such an occasion.

Most of the tables had been cleared to make room for one big circular one that took up much of the room.

Three spaces at the head were left empty for us, and I felt the envious eyes of the three other men at the table.

One had been working with Hayes to transport the drugs in and out of Chicago. Gregory Perez wasn’t an easy man to read. Well over six feet tall, he had average features that were meant to be overlooked and forgotten. Brown eyes and brown hair—nothing about the man stood out.

Though I knew better than to underestimate him.

He didn’t belong to any crime organization. Instead, he seemed perfectly content to work as the middleman for whatever organization reigned at the time.

He was also the one who approached us about this meeting.

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