Dark Guardian (Black Hoods MC #3) - Avelyn Paige Page 0,40
by my boss, but two in a row, he’d be suspicious. I had to make an appearance.
“Go get your coffee, and when you’re inside your building, I’ll leave.”
“Does that caveman thing work on all the women in your life?”
“I think my kitchen table would attest that it does.” He smiles again, his gaze never leaving mine as he pulls me closer to him. His lips graze against my ear. “Can’t wait to show you what I can do in my bed.”
My face instantly flushes. We’re in public, and he talks about us sleeping together again like it’s no big deal. It’s a huge deal. I’m effectively sleeping with the enemy, and he wants to flaunt that fact right here on the street. Pushing away from him gently, I frown.
“What time do you get off?” The way he says that simple phrase makes it sound dirty.
“I should be done around five.”
“I’ll meet you here.”
“That won’t work,” I inform him. “I have a date tonight.”
Jealousy hardens his features. “A date?”
“I guess you could come with me.”
“You want me to come with you on this date?”
“Trust me,” I say with a grin. “Oh, and bring the truck. We’ll have to grab him dinner before we go.”
His frown turns into a laugh, making my heart soar. “You have strange dates.”
I shrug. “When you meet Greg, you’ll understand.”
Chuckling, he pats my behind. “Just get your coffee.”
I smile all the way into the coffee shop. Thankfully, at this hour, the lines are generally short, and today is no exception. My normal barista, Katie, stands behind the counter and waves when she spots me coming through the door. Her short blonde bob is now a bright shade of green.
“Good morning,” she greets me. “The usual?”
“Of course. And can you throw in three apple turnovers?” The kids were still in bed when we left, and a breakfast surprise may go a long way in helping Kevin’s mistrust in me. I hope so, anyway.
“You got it.”
Fluttering around the small space, she deposits a bag alongside my coffee on the counter. Using the gift card Eric had given me for my birthday last month, I pay Katie and give her a three-dollar tip. Then, grabbing my purchases, I head over to the side counter for a couple of packets of sweetener. That’s when an uneasy feeling rushes over me.
Turning, I freeze when I see a strange, disheveled, angry man moving toward me.
“Where are my kids?” he growls.
“I’m sorry?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even. My eyes dart around the store, but besides the baristas busy behind the counter, I’m all alone with him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit,” he spits. And I mean, he literally spits. Everything about him is quaking with rage. “I want my fucking kids back.”
I try to peer over his shoulder to see if Eugene has a clear view of me, but the man snaps his fingers just an inch away from my face.
“Don’t you look for your biker boyfriend. He can’t help you, anyway.”
How could he possibly know about Eugene? Unless… he’s been watching us?
“That white trash piece of shit has my kids, and you’re letting him keep them.”
Oh my God. Henry Tucker looks much different from the mugshots in the file Aaron gave me. He looks strung out, scrawny, and like he hasn’t showered in a very long time.
“Mr. Tucker, why don’t we move this discussion to my office.” Where there’s an audience. And security guards. “This is not the place to discuss custody issues.”
Breathe in, breathe out. Stay calm, Grace. Remember your training. Defuse the situation and hope he backs off.
“The fuck it isn’t. You bastards have my kids and you’re hiding them from me. I know it, and you know it.” He pushes up against me, and I feel a firm object being pressed into my side. “You’re going to take me to them.”
Holy shit. My body jolts with terror when I realize just what it is pressed against me. He has a gun. I’m helpless and at his mercy, and he knows it. There’s no way out of this unless Eugene takes notice from outside.
“Okay,” I whisper. Katie’s watching now. She raises her phone and mouths, “9-1-1.” I give her the faintest nod I can manage, praying Tucker doesn’t see it. “Whatever you say.”
“Walk toward the door,” he orders. Leaving my coffee and bag, I do as he commands. Digging the gun into my side, he uses it to force me toward a side door I’d never