Page 86 of Wild Night

He turns and walks to the hallway and down toward his office. Turning to Dakota and Posey, I reach out and touch Posey on the shoulder. Her head whips around, and her eyes fly to me. She’s got a panicked expression on her face.

Smiling, I tilt my chin to the side before I tell her that I need to head to Bullet’s office. She gives me a smile, her gaze searching mine for a moment. I don’t know if she’s trying to gauge how I’m feeling or not. Instead of turning back to Dakota, she slides her hand around the side of my neck.

“Okay,” she exhales.

Letting out a breath, I lean forward and touch my mouth to hers. “Be a good girl,” I murmur against her mouth.

“I make no promises,” she breathes.

I nip her bottom lip with my teeth, my cock pressing against the zipper of my jeans. Then I take a step backward, reach down, and adjust my aching cock. My eyes are focused on hers as I look down at her.

“You better fucking be good, princess.”

Her gaze searches mine for a moment, then she shakes her head once. “I’m the best, Justin,” she says.

“You’re fuckin’ trouble is what you are.”

She laughs softly before she speaks. “Yeah, I am. Your trouble.”

Fuck yeah, she’s my trouble. And I’m going to keep her—always.

A few moments later, after I’ve forced myself to walk away from her, I head straight to the office and sink down in the first chair I find. Letting out a groan, I try to keep from showing them how much goddamn pain I’m in, but fuck am I in it.

“What do we know?” I demand when nobody speaks.

Bullet clears his throat, but it’s Piggy who talks first. I’m surprised he’s here. I didn’t notice him when I walked into the room, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m in pain and fucking exhausted. Maybe Posey was right. I should probably be in bed resting.

“What we know is still a bunch of nothing. The nurse wasn’t a nurse. The car was old and gold. Which would be funny because it rhymed, but honest to fuck, these people are too good at hiding.”

This is all on me, and it’s killing me that I can’t find the fucking answer. It should be easy enough. I should at least be able to find a few suspects. I have fucking nothing. Viking clears his throat, standing and walking around to stand beside Bullet’s desk, between the thick wood and Piggy.

“I have an idea,” he announces. “I know of an older goldish car, but it doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“Who?” I snap.

“Bullet would have recognized her, and he didn’t,” Viking continues.

“Who?” I demand.

The room is filled with silence, and I don’t know why. I try to think of any woman who drives a gold car, but I got fucking nothing. Not a goddamn thing. My brows snap together, and my lips turn down into a frown.

“Hazzard, but I can’t imagine…” Viking’s voice trails off.

No, I can’t fucking imagine. “She wouldn’t hurt anyone like that,” I mutter. I can’t imagine it. I can’t even pretend to picture it. What the actual fuck. “Who would be the man in this scenario? There are two of them.”

“What if it’s two women?” Viking asks.

“Women don’t usually blow shit up,” Piggy calls out.

No, typical women don’t usually blow shit up, but the clubwhores aren’t typical women. They are tough, they are strong, and they can be fuckingmean. But I can’t imagine any of them would be that way toward a brother.

“It’s worth asking questions,” Bullet says.

I’m not sure I want to ask any questions. I’m not sure I want to know. The trust and the loyalty being betrayed and lost are something I’m not ready to just accept right now. I would rather it be a fucking client.

I hope this theory is all wrong and that we’re barking up the wrong tree, but since we have no trees to bark up, this is one we’re going to have to at least check out.

“Call Hazzard in,” I grind out.

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