Page 3 of Clover

“Which is?” Good, he’s not as stupid as I thought he was.

“You lower your guns, and we won’t kill you for this little misunderstanding. You can even keep the pills. I don’t care. We all leave, alive and breathing. Giving you the opportunity to run and hide before Braxton gets word that you failed and comes after you himself. Or you pull the trigger. You might hit one of us, but we will most definitely hit you. And you end up in pieces in a trash bag thrown in the nearest dumpster and set on fire. Even if you do manage to kill both of us, do you really think the rest of our family will let you off so easily?”

His eyes are twitching every which way processing his options. He knows I’m right, and if he values his own life, he’ll fucking drop his guns.

“You know they’ll come after you so fucking hard. They’ll take out every single fucking person in your family. They’ll burn down your restaurant, your house, and your family’s homes with everyone still inside. They’ll erase every evidence that the Valentino’s ever existed.” I’m not lying. After they physically remove every blood line of his, the Smith’s will get to work scrubbing their digital lives. Deleting birth certificates, removing social media accounts, and every picture online will disappear overnight. Even their arrest records and taxes. Gone. Like they never fucking existed. Sometimes I really love my job.

He ponders my offer momentarily, his fingers twitching at the trigger, deciding to fire or not. My cousin and I do not falter. We do not twitch or sway in our resolve. I have no qualms killing this man for trying to kill us as payment to Braxton for his drugs. My blood boils in my veins as my grip tightens on my gun. Killing Marco for his betrayal sounds rather satisfying now, and I struggle not to shoot him this very instant.

However, killing him could create a rather large cluster fuck if I want to use him in taking down Braxton and putting him in his place. The joy of Braxton knowing his assassination attempt was a complete and utter failure and that Marco is out there. Where he could tell someone about his execution plans for my cousin and me. It warms my motherfucking heart.

Fortunately for Marco and his face, he decides to lower his guns and chooses to keep breathing.

“Good choice.”

Both Zander and I lower our guns but do not holster them. Just in case he decides to take a dirty shot at us on our way out. Backing out of the room, I drop the Glock while stepping over the lifeless men on the ground. I keep my eyes on Marco the entire time. Deciding that he doesn’t deserve all the pills we brought him at the last moment, I grab one of the bags before leaving the way we came in. Neither of us speaks until we are seated in my truck and peeling out of the parking lot.

“That didn’t go as planned,” Zander says what we’re both thinking.

“No, it didn’t. And if Braxton is trying to take me out, I can only think of one reason why.”

“You don’t think?”

“Yes, I do,” I growl out in between clenched teeth. White knuckling the steering wheel as I press down on the gas harder.

“Clover?”

Yes, Clover. If Braxton is trying to remove me from the equation, it’s because he’s making a play for her. He told me he wouldn’t give up, and I knew he meant it. I just didn’t think he would take it this far. Does he want her so badly because she’s mine? Is he doing this just to spite me and take the one thing I actually care about?

Well, if he is, he has another thing coming to him. Because now I will not hesitate to shoot him straight through that black heart of his when I find him.

This feeling of dread and heart-racing fear for Clover’s safety grips at me, twisting my insides. Another foreign feeling flushes through my veins: panic. Adrenaline fueling my rage and feeding the fire in my heart. One thought racing through my mind over and over. I will kill him if he touches her.

“You okay to drive, man?” Zander asks from the passenger seat. Understandably since I’m literally shaking with rage and panic.

“I’m fine. I just need to get back to her,” I bark out at him.

“She’s with Beau and Rosie at the bar, right? So, she should be fine.” He tries to comfort me with his logic, but somehow, I can tell that even with his reassurance, something is wrong.

“Until I see her in front of me. Safe. I’m not stopping.”

Pulling my cellphone from my pocket, I call Clover’s number. It rings and rings, but she doesn’t answer.

“Dammit, Clover, pick up the phone,” I mumble into the receiver. Willing Clover through the connection to answer her phone and tell me everything’s all right.

“FUCK!” I roar into the cab of my truck, thrusting my phone on the dash. It clatters and tumbles across to Zander’s side.

“It doesn’t mean anything, Nix. She could be behind the bar and not have her phone on her.”

“Yeah, or Braxton got to her.”

“Don’t think like that, man. I’ll call Rosie, and you’ll see. Clover will be just fine.”

His words are meant to soothe my anger, but it does nothing for the growing anxiety I feel with every passing second I don’t hear her voice.

Dialing our cousin, I hear Zander’s one-sided conversation with Rosie.

“Hey, Rosie.—Yeah, we were. Things went a little sideways—Listen, is Clover with you?” He pauses as Rosie speaks on the other end.

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