Page 77 of Tick Tock, Boom!

Jose stood, lips glistening, smirking like the devil. He smacked on his lips, licking them as he cornered and pressed me against the hallway wall.

"This ain't over, Kitten. I'll have you on all fours soon enough."

He winked and walked down the hallway like he hadn't just played havoc on every cell in my body. When he turned to open the door, I threw the dishrag at him and he only chuckled, making sure to close the door behind him.

I suddenly hated him more than ever because I knew he was right. And I knew I didn’t have the strength to want to stop him.

TICK TOCK

Hoax found me in the garage, hands deep in an oil-choked carburetor, the kind of work that used to soothe me before my whole damn life turned into a mess.

"Saw Croak outside her place again," he said, voice low, eyes watchful. "Third time this week."

I froze.

"You sure?"

Hoax nodded. "Same guy. Blonde prick. Stood across the street like he was just enjoying the weather. But I saw him at the clinic as well, talking to Henley too."

That got my blood boiling. Henley was supposed to work with us. The deal was that he'd be quiet, discreet, the kind of doc who kept his mouth shut as long as he got paid. In this case, he got paid in security from those fucking Bloody Scorpions. If he was crossing lines, Jameson needed to know. That kind of betrayal cut deep, especially when we were already drowning in blood and secrets.

We brought it up at Church that night. Jameson didn’t even flinch when we told him. He sat back in his chair, fingers steepled, eyes cold. Said he'd handle Henley personally, his voice steady, and we all could tell his wheels were already spinning. He remained calm, but I? I was vibrating with the need to move, to act. I wasn’t built for patience. I was built to break bones, and when it came to my woman, I wasn’t going to wait.

I rode straight from Church back to her place. Natalia opened the door in a faded tee and jeans, barefoot, her hair up in a knot like she hadn’t even tried. And somehow, she looked like sin on a Sunday.

"Gabe’s at a sleepover," she said without asking why I was there.

"Good. Because we need to talk."

She narrowed her eyes. "About what?"

I shoved past her, entering the living room. "About Croak. I know he's been around."

"Who?" She asked, seemingly confused.

"Croak. The Bloody Scorpion."

"Ohhh, that asshole," she lifted the laundry basket she had on the sofa and carried it down the hall to her bedroom. I followed her, room to room, confused as to why she didn't think this was serious.

"Why the fuck didn’t you say something?"

Her jaw clenched. "Because it’smyproblem."

We were back in the living room, and I closed the distance between us. "No, Kitten. It’s our problem. You’re not alone anymore."

"I didn’t ask you to come back."

"And yet here I am."

"You think that means something? That after all these years you can just waltz in and..."

"Protect you? Damn right I will."

"I can handle this!" she snapped, her voice rising.

"Goddammit, you don’t have to. That’s why I’m here! That’s what I’m for."

She laughed, bitterly. "Is that right? Could’ve fooled me. Maybe you’ll run off again, just like last time."

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