Cuffed For Love - Page 25

I toss the phone to Mick, who tucks it away. A prod to the back of the guy’s head elicits no response.

“Drugs?” Mick asks.

“Who knows, but we both have women waiting so let’s do this.” I haul the man upright, which is no easy feat since the fucker weighs at least three bills. He murmurs something, but it’s not until I shove him under the shower head and turn the cold on blast that he comes to with a roar. His sour beer breath blasts across my face.

Mick grimaces. “I’ll leave you to it.” He disappears while I’m trying to wrestle an angry biker to the ground.

“Goddammit, Mick!”

“It’s Mitch, you motherfucker,” screams the drunkard into my face. Spit smears across my cheek.

I punch him just for that. He goes down, slipping on the shower curtain and pulling down the metal shower rod with it. It bangs across his face, and blood spurts out. This is so fucking messy.

“Mitch, Mike, Matt.” I snap my fingers. “Pay attention. Do you know who I am?”

He glares. “Course, you’re the needle dick skip tracer who took my Carrie in.”

“Great. Yeah, I did. She shouldn’t have run. Looks like you could’ve used the money to fix up your house.” I pull down a towel that’s slung over the sink cabinet and toss it to him. “How long ago did she leave you?”

There’s a moment of shocked silence and then a dull, “Three months.”

“Let me guess. You paid her bond money in hopes that she would come back to you.”

He nods miserably. “But you took her away,” he accuses. His lower lip starts to quiver. Man. This is not how I expected this to play out. I put my gun away.

“Did you shoot him already? I didn’t hear it.” Mick appears over my shoulder.

“His woman left him, and he was trying to win her back, I guess,” I try to explain. The biker cries harder. Mick makes a horrified face and jets away.

“Just shoot me. It’ll be less painful,” moans the biker.

“Nah, but if you come near me again, I’ll make sure your woman gets the worst sentence possible.”

“You can’t do that!”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

The biker’s chin drops to his chest in defeat. “Fine. Just…leave me the fuck alone.”

I pull out my wallet and slap a few bills on the counter. “Get someone to clean up in here and maybe your woman will come back to you.”

He’s still sniveling as I walk away. As we’re driving home, Mick says, “Please don’t tell me you left him money.”

The thing about family is that they know you too well. I just remain silent.

“Fuck. Man, how is it that you have such a soft heart?”

“Me? You had to run away before you started crying.”

“I’m a sympathy crier,” he says.

“Keep telling yourself that, and maybe you’ll even believe it. I can’t wait for Bells to deliver. You’re going to have to be sedated after the first hour.”

“Try first five minutes.”

We share a look and then a laugh. It started out tense, but it’s all resolved, and now we’re going home to our women. Couldn’t ask for a better outcome.EighteenJoyI tilt my laptop screen back a little more, trying to get a better angle. I’ve fallen off the map a little on social media so I have to make sure I post something today. My life has been a lot of sex lately and not much else. I’m sure as hell not going to talk about that. Especially not with how my feed quickly filled up with women asking who Dane was.

I see the reflection of myself pouting in the screen of the camera and quickly wipe the look off my face. I’m going to do a quick video and be done. I’ve done a video like this one before, but it was already old and I’m sure a little refresher won’t hurt. I am going to show how to do a top bun even faster. I get myself ready and hit the button to start the live feed.

“Hi everyone.” I give a wave. “I’m going to be working on a few videos and I swear I’ll get them posted up today and tomorrow! I know I’ve been a little MIA, but I promise I’m back,” I let them all know. I glance down at the comments. Everyone is asking if I moved.

“Oh. No, I haven't moved. I’ve been staying with a friend.” It’s not long before they start commenting about seeing all my stuff in the living room. I peek around the room and notice how right they are. My throw pillows are on Dane’s couch. I grabbed those because I noticed his couch was bare. Who doesn't have throw pillows on their sofa? I guess single men.

But there is more than that. On one table sits a picture of Cece and me, and there are so many other little things scattered around that are mine. I turn back to look at the camera. “I think I’ve been tricked into moving in with my boyfriend,” I mumble to myself as I realize what has happened. I gasp, putting my hand over my mouth when I realize I said that on a live feed. This is why you stick to posting pre-recorded video.

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