Page 48 of Devil Inside: Green

Aja lifts the baby, setting her in my arms. “Just make sure her head is secure.”

I hold her the way they direct me. “This would be the first time I’ve ever held a baby. I didn’t even hold Sarge’s or Vlad’s kids.” As nervous as I am, little Freya doesn’t seem to notice. She snuggles against me and my heart just about melts.

“Babies have a way of doing that,” Aja says.

I look up at her. “Doing what?”

“Melting your heart,” she responds, and my face drops. Am I that damn transparent?

Cutter slaps my back softly. “It doesn’t take much. Never pictured myself as a dad. Then I meet Aja and suddenly the doctor is setting precious in my arms and I knew I was gone. No real man would ever take this for granted. It’s a gift. Both my girls are gifts.”

“A lot—” I stop to clear my throat. “A lot of responsibility,” I finish.

“The best kind,” he replies and the look on his face says he means it. Those aren’t just words to Cutter. It hits me once again just how different this club is from the one I joined just a few years ago.

“You’re doing a great job,” Danni leans in to whisper and her alarm goes off signaling that our breakfast is done. I quickly hand the baby to Cutter with the excuse that I have to help Danni with the food. Back in the kitchen, she sets out plates for all of us, then serves everything.

I grab the butter and syrup. We’re in our own little group eating when my phone rings—and it’s Carter.

“Talk to me,” I say into the phone.

“There’s video footage,” he says. “In Florida. He fucked up. I’m sending it to your email.”

Finally—we catch a fucking break.

17

DANNI

Green hangs up the phone and casually leans in to whisper in my ear, “Development. Let’s take our plates back to the room.”

Cutter and Aja are in the throes of baby joy, so I get why he’d want to shelter them from this. I nod and pick up my plate and cup.

“What? Tired of our company already?” Roughneck asks.

I laugh when Green says, “Gotta work off these carbs,” and then he slaps my butt lightly. Not one of them would be suspicious of a virile biker like my man wanting to get him some. It’s kind of one of the creeds they live by.

At his urging, we walk our food back to the room, where he sets his plate and mug on the bedside table to grab his laptop off of the dresser. He brings up his email and clicks on the first file to download.

The footage is from a business across the parking lot from the courthouse. There’s no sound, but the image is clear—well, clear as to why he picked this woman. She walks out with a man who screamsattorneyfrom his shiny, silk suit and slicked-back hair. It looks like a man and another attorney walk out of the building right behind them. The woman turns around and I can see her mouth forming the words, “You pig. I will destroy you.”

Wrath.

The next sin on the list.

Her attorney places his hand on her back to get her to calm down as the man, my guess with all her rage, the soon-to-be ex-husband, shouts something back and his attorney says something to him, too. That’s where the footage cuts off.

Green clicks on the next file to start the download. This footage comes from a different angle and isn’t quite as clear as the first. If I had to guess from the angle, the video came from a building next to the parking lot rather than across like the first.

I’m sure I see the woman from the first video unlock the door to a sedan and climb into the driver’s seat. She doesn’t pull out of the spot right away.

“Can you enlarge this?” I ask.

He clicks on the video to try to enlarge it for us. Enlarging it makes the video a bit more distorted, but it looks like the woman rests her head on the steering wheel. From this pose, if anyone asked me, I’d say she was crying.

A man walks into a frame. He’s tall, about 6’ to 6’1. Short hair, but not military-short like Sarge keeps his. It’s black and white footage, but from the gray tones, it looks like his hair is like a medium-to light-brown. The man is in good shape. He’s wearing a T-shirt, that again, from the shades of gray, I’d put in the lighter blue or green—one of those kinds of colors—category. And I have to give it to Caycee the bartender from the casino. She really paid attention. He bends down to knock on the window.

How can this be anyone but the man Caycee described? Still, there was one more thing to look for. I drop my gaze to search his exposed skin. There it is, on the underside of his arm. A heart-shaped mole. Thisisthe man from the casino. But now the question begs, whoisthe man from the casino?

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