Page 56 of Renard's Deliverance

But he wasn’t a complete jerk.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later,he confirmed that Opal wasn’t at Dirty Delights.

Walking out with a frown, he was grumbling to himself as he took a seat in his truck.

Fucking Devon.

He had to have her phone number, yet he wouldn’t give it to Renard.

Asshole.

If Renard discovered that she was in trouble and Devon hadn’t helped him find her . . . he was coming back to rearrange his face.

Breathing through the anger, he didn’t know what to do.

Drive out to the Malone ranch?

Hmm. That was a possibility.

Perhaps she was visiting Ryleigh or Lilac.

He tapped his fingers on his steering wheel. And what then? How did he explain why he was looking for her? Or how he knew that she wasn’t home?

Fuck it.

He needed to do something that wasn’t related to Opal.

Yeah. He’d go to the club.

That would put his head on right.

10

Oh, this had been a mistake.

His head wasn’t on right.

Nope. It was turned around and upside down. And what he was watching right now wasn’t helping matters at all.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here tonight,” Saxon said as he walked over to where Renard was leaning against the wall of the club.

Renard just grunted back. He didn’t have time for social niceties.

Like forming actual words.

His attention was on the scene across from him.

“You know that people have started to notice you standing here, staring at her.”

Another grunt.

What the fuck did he care what people thought?

“I know you don’t actually care about what others think, but I’m not sure that she’ll appreciate you standing here, glowering at her like a grouchy rabid bear.”

That’s what he felt like, though.

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