argued. “That makes it Hell’s Ankhor’s business now. It was a specifically targeted attack. I’m not going to risk them slipping through your fingers again.”
That stopped me short. “Targeted?”
Heath cleared his throat pointedly. He leaned against the kitchen island, a cold beer hanging loosely from his fingers. He looked so fucking exhausted—and listening to me and Blade arguing surely wasn’t making it any better. Guilt shot through my anger, deflating me a little bit.
“That’s what they said,” Heath told me. He met my eyes steadily, with a determined expression that surprised me. “That’s why they were on campus. They said they saw us working together at Stella’s and saw an easy way to get payback on both our clubs in one shot. And”—he gestured at himself with a self-effacing laugh—“I’m an easier target than you… I’ve also been getting these emails.”
“Emails?” Blade and I asked simultaneously.
Heath grimaced. “Not a lot of them. Just weird messages from these burner accounts. Stuff like ‘watch out’ or ‘eyes everywhere.’ I thought it was spam.” From his shifty eyes, though, it was clear he’d known it was more than spam, at least on some level. Why had he kept that from us? Frustration clawed at me, but now wasn’t the time to ask that question.
The thought of Heath being watched, followed, in danger, made my stomach sour. The protective urge I’d been pushing down leaped to the forefront of my mind like a tiger bursting from its cage. Well, at least there was an easy solution to that until we could track down those three.
“Then you can’t be going anywhere alone,” I said sharply. “Not until these guys are taken care of. You need a detail. The Crew can provide one. Fucking hell, I’ll do it myself.”
Heath turned away. “That’s ridiculous. That’d be an insane inconvenience to everyone. And I can protect myself.”
“Can you?” I snapped, gesturing at his face.
Heath’s expression fell suddenly, disbelief and then something like betrayal, and he said nothing.
I scrubbed my hand over my face. Fuck. I wasn’t trying to make a comment about his capabilities. “There are three of them,” I said more gently. “And one of you.”
“And apparently you don’t think I can handle myself,” Heath said in a small, but firm voice.
“That’s not what I’m saying!” I just wanted to make sure he was safe.
Heath scoffed and turned away. “Well, it doesn’t matter, because it’s not your decision to make.”
“It’s not a decision,” I snapped, “It’s common sense!”
Heath stubbornly said nothing. Why did he seem so fucking unfazed by this? Around us, his club members were watching with some interest. Blade’s gaze flicked between us, like he was trying to decide if he was going to let this play out or not.
“I’m just trying to help,” I said.
“You can help by butting out,” Heath said. “I’ve got it under control.”
Why was he suddenly so resistant? He’d never given me any pushback like this before, and I didn’t understand why he was now. Was he trying to prove something? This wasn’t a fucking game. And yeah, he only had a black eye this time, but it should never have even gotten that far.
“That’s obviously not true!” I nearly shouted. “Look at your fucking face!”
Without even bothering to respond, Heath turned on his heel and stormed up the stairs.
The room was still quiet. From behind me, Jazz whistled low. That pissed me off all over again, but I wasn’t about to push my luck with the Hell’s Ankhor guys more than I already had.
“I’ll be his security detail,” I said to Blade, hoping he’d see reason, and take this as another gesture of good faith from Liberty Crew. “Personally.”
Blade raised his eyebrows. “I don’t think that’s up to me.”
Then he nodded toward the stairs, implicit permission. I didn’t exactly understand how Blade ran his club, but if he wanted me to work things out with Heath myself, I wasn’t going to throw that back in his face. I nodded shortly, and then climbed the stairs with my heart in my throat.
18
Heath
Frustration prickled at the corners of my eyes. It was all too fucking much—the pain, the exhaustion, and then Dante had to storm into the clubhouse and touch me with so much tenderness that I’d almost kissed him right there. Just for the comfort of it.
But we didn’t have that kind of relationship. Sure, I understood his anger—his members breaking the rules was no joke—but it seemed like he was even angrier that I’d been the one to get