Destroy For Her - R.B. Hilliard Page 0,20
he entered Steele’s office.
“A fucking cartel,” Steele hissed. He was pissed. Ax took a seat and listened to him rant. “I had Martin look into him. How the hell could he have missed something that fucking huge?”
Martin came courtesy of Ax’s cousin and Steele’s brother, Carver. Carver was a cop. Until recently, he’d been on the outs with the club, but after saving LuLu’s life, he was back in the fold. If Carver said Martin was the best in the business, then he should know. The fact that Martin didn’t dig up the dirt on Carlos meant one of two things: either he didn’t look hard enough or there wasn’t anything to find. Ax’s gut said it was the former. He told Steele what he was thinking.
“Is it just me, or is it a big fucking coincidence that Carlos ensnared Sage right around the time the shit hit the fan here at the club?” Steele asked.
Ax hadn’t thought of that. “You think the two are connected?”
“I wouldn’t rule it out.”
He considered it for a moment, then shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. If it’s about drugs, then why Sage? Why take her to Mexico?”
Steele shrugged. “I don’t know; to piss us off? To show us that he can get to us? Maybe I’m reaching, but if there’s a connection between the two, we need to find it.”
Ax didn’t disagree. Better to reach and be wrong, than to get blindsided again. “Are we going into lockdown?” A part of him thought they should.
“Not yet. I want Martin to dig deeper into Diez and Herrera. We need to know what we’re dealing with.”
Ax yawned. “I’m going home for a few hours, and then I have to finish a bike. I’ll check in later.”
He was almost to the door when Steele said, “Emma’s a good girl. She’s been good for you, but she’s not Sage. I know this has to be hard on you. As much as I hate to say it, she can’t compete. If you’re any kind of a man, you won’t make her.”
He left without responding, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get Steele’s message. He got it loud and clear. He just didn’t know if he agreed with it. One thing was for sure, if Carlos thought he could waltz in and take Sage and Petal back, he had another thing coming.
Chapter Eight
LUCY RETURNED WHILE Petal was in the bath. Trudging behind her, loaded down like a pack mule, was one of the new prospects. Sage was pretty sure his name was Art. At Lucy’s instruction, he placed his cargo on the foot of the bed. His eyes touched on Sage’s face, anger flashing in their depths before he turned and walked out of the room. It was sweet that everyone cared so much, but she was getting tired of the tense-jawed, angry-eyed looks.
“That was fun,” Lucy announced.
Sage gawked at the insane number of bags now littering the foot of the bed. “What did you do, buy out the entire mall?”
A wicked grin slowly spread across Lucy’s face. “Oh, this isn’t on me, sugar lumps.”
“Steele?” Sage asked, her eyes bulging in surprise.
“Nope, Ax. He said, and I quote, ‘Get them anything they need.’ So, I did.”
Sage’s heart soared; at the same time, her stomach pitched. This was too much. Tomorrow, she was going to figure out her finances so she could pay him back.
“Wowza!” Lucy exclaimed, “I didn’t even know this room was down here! I love the blue and taupe color scheme, and the recessed lighting almost makes you forget you’re in a basement with no windows.”
Sage was too busy rummaging through the bags to comment. Her crazy-ass friend had purchased everything from underwear to stylish outfits—and all on Alex’s dime. “This must have cost a fortune,” she grumbled.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Ax is good for it. Where’s Petal?” She kicked off her heels and dropped onto the bench at the foot of the bed with a loud sigh. “My feet are killing me.”
“In the bath.” Sage held up a pair of obscenely short jean shorts. “Please tell me these are for Petal.”
“They’re for you. You should have told me about Carlos,” Lucy scolded.
“I know. I’m sorry. Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad; I’m worried. I knew something was wrong when you called. I should have said something, done something, I—”
Sage cut her off. “If I’d told you, you would have come for me. Carlos would have killed you, and that would have killed me. Believe me, I