Page 24 of Desert Heat

My body relaxed as I was tensed ready for her tiny fists to make a jab at my ribs.

“We are busy in here.”

“No fucking in my house!”

“That go for you, too darlin’.”

“Ugh!” She pounded on the door as she worked the locked handle.

“Fuck,” she kicked the door, one last time retreating.

My eyes shut as she came back over me; hovering.

I felt the heat of her stare watching me.

“Fuck,” she whispered. Seconds later, I felt a thick blanket drip over me and damn if that didn’t just melt a few chips of ice around my heart.

“I fucking knew it,” I muttered, checking the time on my cell. Three a.m.

Nothing good ever happens at this hour.

Tank’s shadow filled the hall.

“They’re here.”

“Like clockwork,” I muttered, keeping low as I got off the couch. I had dimmed all the inside lights, and drawn her drapes, but I was careful the same.

“How many?” He asked, cranking his neck.

My back pressed to the wall next to her window as I carefully looked out.

“Ten, plus the driver.”

“Fuck. They are surrounding the Bronco.”

“They better not fucking touch my truck. River, I don’t have the restraint for this shit. I wanna do this the way we would handle it in the Club.”

“We can’t. This isn’t New Mexico. There’s no desert canyons to hide bodies in. We gotta do this old school with fists.”

He shrugs. “Fine. But if my truck has one mark on it, I’m taking the bat out.”

I stuffed my feet into my boots, shoved my hands in my jean pockets and opened the door like I didn’t have a fuck to give.

“Sup?”

Tank stood guard behind me as I approached the group. Some were sloppy drunk, swaying while they mouthed off. Others watched with dark eyes and clenched fists.

“You put our boy in the hospital. That’s what’s up.”

“He had his hands where they weren’t welcome.”

“That bitch is a cock tease. Everyone knows it.”

“So what? You planned to show up here, find her alone and finish the job?”

Their silence was all the confirmation I needed.

“She’s not yours to break motherfuckers.”

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