hits red and all the cars are at a halt, I pivot into their lane and swing my motorcycle to park directly in front of the Escalade.
As I climb off, I unholster my Glock. Taking swift steps to the driver's side, I tap the mouth of the Glock against the window. "Open up!"
The window slowly powers down, revealing Truman, a cocksure smirk on his face, completely unphased by my gun trained at his head. In the passenger seat is Tripp, his smirk as smug as his brother’s.
“The fuck’s your deal?” I growl at them.
Truman and Tripp Garza are two of the four half-black, half-Italian brothers who run and own the best investigative operation in Denver—Red Cage Investigations. They're revered, protected, fearless, and, in their minds, untouchable. Why they’d be tailing me's a mystery.
They aren't investigating me, that's for sure. If they were, I wouldn't have noticed they're tail. They aren't as prestigious as they are by being sloppy idiots. They wanted me to know they were tailing me.
"Finally," Truman says. "We were starting to wonder if we've overestimated you, Landon Michaelson. I don't think we could've gotten any more obvious with this tail."
Of course, these assholes knew my real name. I lower my weapon. "Clocked you since you started four days ago."
Both brothers exchange a look, then Tripp nods. "Yeah, you're gonna need some training. We've been on you for over a week now. We changed over to this vehicle because it's more conspicuous."
Confused, I frown. "Training for what?"
Truman fetches something from out of the glove compartment and hands it to me. "We've got a proposal for you. Monday. Two o'clock. Red Cage headquarters. Don't be late." He nods to the scatter of people that's slowly gathering, shocked faces poking out of car windows, traffic halted. "You’re causing a scene with that thing. Holster it and go get your bike out of the way before the cops get here."
They didn’t wait for me to move it, though, because once they started to steer out of the lane, people hurriedly pulled out of the way for them. Before I could even get my engine running, they were off.
Red Cage Investigations had a proposal for me?
Well, shit.
Chapter 9
Ley
A distant noise wakes me. It takes me a moment to recall my surroundings. I’m curled up in the middle of a bed, on fresh, clean, cloudy sheets in an airy room with flowing powder-blue drapes—sheets and drapes that I’d picked out.
It’s darkening outside the windows.
“Peach?”
Scratch. He’s back.
He’d called me around five to tell me he’d gotten caught up running some errands and that I shouldn’t leave. That’s around the time I’d decided to take a nap, as I’d not been in a rush to get home anyway.
I don’t want to be the girl who looks to a man to save her, but as much as I’m fighting it, this place is already starting to feel like a haven.
Yawning, I shimmy off the bed and head downstairs. Scratch is two steps up the stairs when he spots me and halts, waiting for me at the bottom.
“Hey,” I say when I get to him, rubbing my eyes.
“Didn’t know you were napping. Sorry for waking you.”
“It’s fine.” I lock my arms around his neck. “You were gone a while…”
He circles his arms around my waist. “Yeah. Some wannabe bad boys were making trouble for the girls down at Cookie’s spot. A couple of us rallied to go take care of it.”
“What? Was anyone hurt?”
“Nah. Everyone’s fine. Those idiots will think twice next time before stepping foot into Cookie’s Treat.”
I relax. “Well, I’m glad the girls are okay.”
One thick, dark eyebrow kicks up in indignation. “What about me?”
I shrug. “Meh.”
He spanks my ass before letting me go. “Just for that, you won’t be getting anymore kisses for twenty-four hours.”
“Eh. Those were meh, too.”
He narrows his eyes and points a threatening finger at me before turning to walk away. I cackle at his back.
“Brought dinner,” he says. “C’mon.”
I follow him into the kitchen where two takeout containers sit on the breakfast bar. He asks, “You’re not allergic to peanuts, are you?”
“Nope. Allergy wise, I’m good on all food fronts except for mushrooms. I’m mildly allergic.”
“Great, because I got us peanut sauce chicken and broccoli with seasoned brown rice. And I hate mushrooms so we’re good there.”
I hike up on one of the stools. “Sounds yummy.”
He opens my container for me and unwraps the plastic knife and fork. He then heads to the fridge and grabs a beer for himself