Page 46 of Waging War
For one solid second, I think I’ve gotten through his thick skull. There’s a flicker of emotion across his face, giving me hope that he’ll put this nonsense behind us.
“My decision is final.”
The room shrinks until all I can see are those weary, stubborn eyes staring back at me. I could challenge him in front of the club, and the temptation to do just that grows within me. But to challenge him would be the ultimate betrayal. He would lose respect from his men, and there’s no telling what may happen to me if I were to lose.
I can’t believe this.
My voice wavers, but I raise my chin. “I’ll go with Cooper, and I’ll do as you’ve asked if that’s what you think is best.”
He breathes out a heavy sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Thank y—”
“But I want you to know that from this point forward, every single day of my long life, I willneverforgive you.”
With his face turning ashen, I storm out the office without another word.
Think, Hazel, think.
I wring my hands, briefly considering calling Juliana.
No, living with anyone else only makes them a target, and I don’t like it, but Dad was right when they said that Diablo will continue to use me to control them.
The conversation I had with Coop yesterday suddenly dredges up an idea.
The rally, the charity…The Christy House.
We haven’t housed a woman at either property in at least three years. I pause a moment to think.
Could the chief’s family be living there now?
No one knows exactly where they’re staying, but Dad called in a neighboring gang to take Barron’s wife and girls out of town. The house is also only two bedrooms, and though they’re in hiding, it wouldn’t make sense to have them crammed in such a small space with their guards.
Like a rubber band, hope snaps through me. The Christy House may not be an ideal choice for Barron’s family, but it’s going to be the perfect place for me.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
Ben
For what feels like the millionth time, I question my sanity where the hellraiser that is Hazel is concerned.
I’ve got a Glock holstered on my left hip, a shotgun on the floorboard, and a couple of knives in the center consol. What kind of knight would I be if I wasn’t armed against a pack of vicious animals?
The binoculars are heavy in my hands as I zero in on the Wolves’ gated housing. I’ve been staking the place out from across a tree-lined field for several hours now, just watching and biding my time.
I was surprised to get a glimpse at the quaint little community they’ve built here. I’m not sure what I expected, but a tight-knit, well-constructed stronghold was not it.
The clock on the dash glows midnight. Hazel left a neighboring apartment about an hour ago before entering the one on the far end, and she hasn’t reemerged since. After surveying the single window on the second story of the townhouse, I’ve decided that’s where I’ll enter.
I reach inside the backpack on my passenger seat and check the inventory.
Gloves, tape, black spray paint for any outside cameras, and a mask.
What could possibly go wrong?
There’s a chance I scale this fence, climb through that window, and risk Kenny castrating me, all for Hazel to flip me the bird before jamming a knife into my shoulder.
But then I remember those big, rounded eyes staring back at me as Cooper held her with one arm wrapped around her protectively.
It’s been exactly one week since I left her with that son of a bitch, and every hour of every day has been more excruciating than the last.
