Page 93 of Bad Medicine
What an idiot.
I followed at a careful distance, not trying to make a scene if I could help it. I didn’t have the time or the inclination to be sorting out police bribes today. Not to mention, we were kind of on shit terms with the sheriff these days, on account of him handing Frankie and Enzo over to a deranged dirty fed, so I wasn’t about to push my luck.
Finally reaching the massive parking structure at the back of the hotel, I quickened my pace, calling out just as she reached for her keys.
“Hello, Amber.”
Panicked, she must have jumped a whole foot in the air, letting out a startled shriek.
“What the fuck, Rock?” Pressing a hand to her chest, Amber gave me a pissy look. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Apologies,” I said sarcastically. “I wasn’t aware you even had a heart.”
“Funny.”
“Thank you.”
“How’d you even find me, anyway?” she asked. I noticed she’d strategically styled her hair to cover her stitches, and I realized that somewhere along the way, I’d started to feel bad for Amber.
Shit.
“You’ve had a standing appointment to get your hair done every three weeks for as long as I’ve known you,” I said plainly. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think you’d let your roots start showing just because you were on the lam, now would you?”
She stared at me, as if she was trying to gauge my next move, but she wasn’t the hunter.
Amber had always been prey, and she fuckin’ knew it.
“So,” she finally said, shoulders drooping. “Is this it? Enzo isn’t even going to do it himself?”
“I’m not here to hurt you, Amber.” For the moment, it was even the truth. “Enzo never meant to hurt you either, you know.” I shrugged. “All he did was fall in love. It’s not even like he planned it. Sometimes, shit just happens.”
I smiled a little at that, thinking about how the same thing had happened to me. One day, I was just going about my business, roughin’ up dirtbags and arranging underground fights, and the next?
I was in love.
Who woulda ever fuckin’ thought?
“Yeah, well,” she said snottily, her arms crossed over her narrow chest. “Doesn’t change the fact that I was the one who got fucked over.” Of course she’d paint herself as the victim when she was the one who had physically assaulted Enzo’s wife, but whatever. “If you’re not here to kill me, then what the hell are you here for?”
“I need some information on your new boyfriend.”
Amber practically bathed in self-tanner, but even under all those layers of artificial bronze, I could still see the blood drain from her face at the mention of Gregor Belikov.
“I can’t,” she said quickly, shaking her head and reaching for her car door. “I have to go. I’m leaving. I need to go.” Her words were rapid, like she couldn’t say them fast enough to get her point across. “I can’t. I absolutely can’t.”
“Amber,” I cut her off, my palm slamming down on the car door and holding it shut. “You can, and you know it.”
“No, Rocco. I really can’t.” She was trembling now, her sheer terror plain to see. “Enzo may want to kill me, but what Gregor would do would be a thousand times worse.” I could see tears welling in her eyes as she pleaded with me. “You have to let me go.”
“We can protect you,” I offered, wondering exactly what Francesca was gonna think of me giving Amber fuckin’ Davidson sanctuary in her hour of need. “You know we can.”
“I don’t know shit, Rock, except for the fact that if I put one foot out of line, I’ll find myself in a cargo container headed for the Middle East before I can sayLouis Vuitton.”
There it was; actual evidence that Gregor was doing the kind of vile shit Sway had accused him of. Now all I had to do was get Amber to give me some fuckin’ information.
“Listen,” I said, trying to come across as reasonable when I was no such thing. “I can make this all better for you. Gregor is not long for this fuckin’ world. You help us locate him and his business, and I’ll make sure Enzo wipes the slate clean when it comes to you.”
Amber snorted her disbelief at my words.
