Fallon (Henchmen MC Next Generation #3) - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,16
Polish, hell, even the Irish are getting a stronger foothold. It's been a while since Reign reached out in a friendly, yet firm, manner to all the local enterprises. It might be time for you to think of doing the same," Lo said, giving me a nod, then moving with Janie back into their office.
I must have been lost in my own swirling thoughts, because all I caught from what Dezi said was something about 'wanting Danny.'
"What?" I hissed, whipping over to face him.
"You might want to talk to Danny," Cary explained, shooting me a curious look. "In case she might know who it was. Can't write off her being the main target, and you just being a perk."
That was true.
But it was also the absolute last thing I needed to do.
What I needed to do was stay as far the fuck away from that woman as possible. Because I wasn't entirely sure if we were close, that we wouldn't have a repeat of the night before.
And that couldn't happen.
"Even if she knew something, I think the chances of her sharing it is slim," I said, shrugging. "I mean, even if they gave us a name, who's to say we could trust the information? I wouldn't put her past tricking us into approaching someone who has it out for us. It would only mean more business for her if we were taken out."
"What made you two help each other?" Dezi asked.
"Instinct, I guess," I said, shrugging it off because it really did come down to that. I hadn't been using my rational brain in those moments. I'd just gone with my gut. And my gut said to protect the girl. That was how I was raised. Even if the woman would rather chew off her own arm than to take my hand willingly.
Don't fucking touch me.
That was what she'd said to me the last time I'd reached out.
There'd been venom in her words, too.
For a few horrifying moments, I'd stood there too stunned to move, worried I'd somehow overstepped my bounds, that there had been some sort of objection on her part, that she hadn't consented and been an enthusiastic participant.
But, no.
Had it been angry and rough?
Yes.
But she'd wanted it, I was sure.
She might not have wanted to want it, but that was something else entirely, and nothing at all to do with me or any sort of wrongdoing.
"How'd you know we helped each other?" I asked, looking over at Dezi. I didn't remember volunteering that information. I damn sure didn't mention grabbing her hand or pulling her off the fence or even covering her with my body. Not to my men, anyway. I didn't want them getting the wrong idea. Or maybe that was just my guilty conscience talking.
"Know a lady in the police department," he offered up. "I find that with a little... persuasion," he said, wiping a thumb across the edge of his lower lip, "she will tell me just about anything I want to know."
"Didn't you go home with those three chicks last night?" Cary asked.
"What's the matter, Zaddy? Don't have the stamina you used to?" he teased. "Besides, my cock might get tired, but my mouth never does," he said with a smirk.
"Yeah, no shit," I said, making him let out a chuckle. "Alright, I am going to hit the show—"
"Yo, you," Dezi called, jumping upward, leaning against the ropes of the ring, pointing to a guy who was just coming in. "I want a re-match," he said, ducking under the ropes.
"I broke your finger last time," the guy who outweighed Dezi by at least sixty pounds of pure muscle reminded him.
"Yeah, but not one of the important ones," Dezi declared, bouncing on his feet, excited at the prospect of a fight. "I really only need the middle two and the thumb," he added, making a suggestive motion where he moved the middle two up and down while wiggling his thumb side to side. "What's the matter? You scared?"
"That I might hurt my hand on that thick fucking skull of yours?" the guy asked, dropping his gym bag, and slipping under the ropes. "You asked for it," he said, already circling Dezi.
It was no contest.
Dezi was no boxer.
A street fighter, yes.
If this was a back alley somewhere, I would put my money on Dezi.
But in a ring, he got smoked.
"Dezi, goddamnit," Janie called. "Mouthguard. You need a fucking mouthguard to fight in this gym."
"Worried about my pretty smile?" Dezi asked, shooting her a bloody smile.