Blacklisted (Loveless, Texas #3) - Jay Crownover Page 0,44
“Indebted to the club, or to you? I’m not an idiot, Shot. We’ve been friends for a long time and I can tell when something is different. You’re sprung on this woman, and I just know it’s going to bite you in the ass eventually.”
Something was different about Presley. “When I’m with her, things get quiet. I can hear myself think.” And all I could focus on was her.
My life was so loud. The club was noisy, and all the choices and trappings that went along with being a member were blaring and booming. There was never a moment that felt serene and still. My previous encounters with women were the same. I was typically after a good time, not a long time. My life was unpredictable and dangerous. I didn’t live in an ideal environment for romance and commitment. There was very little softness and tenderness in my existence. The idea of being involved with a real-life outlaw tended to be far sexier and more seductive to women than the reality.
Kody was honestly the first woman who I was involved with on any level that I wanted to stick around longer than a few weeks and for more than a few stolen moments. But even as tough and resilient as she was, the harsh landscape that made up the hills and valleys of my life proved to be too much for her. She was annoyed with me more often than she was infatuated with me. And it became blisteringly obvious after we started spending more time together that Kody’s heart wasn’t even up for grabs. That bossy, uptight Texas Ranger was the owner, even if Kody was oblivious to the fact that she’d given her heart away.
It caught me totally off guard that I was now actively looking for reasons to keep Presley around. Top was right. She wasn’t a woman who chose to live her life on the edge the way Kody was, but I think that was what I liked most about her. She didn’t fit into my way of life, but she did take me out of it, giving me a reprieve I hadn’t been aware I needed.
I grinned in Top’s direction as a black Rolls-Royce pulled into the driveway. “Stop worrying about my love life and focus on the task at hand.”
He growled and lifted his chin as a well-dressed older man climbed out of the luxury car. He was obviously confused as to why his garage door didn’t open, clearly not knowing the power in the neighborhood was out. He had a cell phone pressed to his ear and seemed completely distracted as he reached into the back seat and pulled out some dry cleaning. He was swearing loudly and definitely not paying attention to his surroundings.
“You sure Rave killed the feed to his cameras?” Top asked in a low tone, as we slowly moved toward the garage.
The idea was to simply wait until the doctor opened the front door, then bum-rush him. Once we forced him inside, I was going to make him talk. I figured it would be a piece of cake. Guys like the shady, wealthy physician didn’t tend to hold up well when pressed by guys like me.
It was my turn to snort. “Has that kid ever not come through?”
Patching a hacker into the club was one of the best decisions I ever made. Some fights weren’t destined for the streets, like they had been back in the old days. Now you needed to be as digitally savvy as you were street savvy. Having Rave on our team often gave us access to places and people others could never reach.
“If you’re sure your ugly mug won’t end up on the nine o’clock news, then let’s roll.”
Because the garage wouldn’t open due to the power outage, the doctor had no choice but to use his front door. Top and I broke free of the hedges, creeping up on either side of the doctor just as he was pushing the door open. He made a startled sound and dropped the plastic-wrapped dry cleaning.
“What? Who are you? How did you get into this neighborhood? It’s gated!” The questions came fast and furious as we strong-armed the man into his home. Top kicked the door closed and gave the physician a shove. The older man spun around and waved his phone in our direction. “I’m calling the police!”
I reached out, snatched the phone, and slid it into the back pocket of my jeans. I