as I pull away. In fact, she doesn’t say anything until I arrive at the vet. I stop in a parking space right by the door and step down with my engine still running and then help her out.
Next to the door, I pull her to me and kiss her goodbye, knowing that the next eight hours are going to suck without her. No matter that she’s acting strange right now, I’m not letting her go without my mouth on hers. “Pick you up at three.”
“Okay.”
“Then we’re gonna talk.”
She presses her lips together and nods.
I wait for her to get inside, then pull out of the lot, circling around the block and then parking down the street. Something’s up with her, and I don’t know what the fuck it is. I shoot a text to Royce and tell him I’ll be in tomorrow and then pat the front seat for Judy to come and sit.
She rests her head in my lap, and I pet her soft fur, watching the building, waiting for something. I don’t know what, but I want to be close to her. I have that nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach, and my gut is never wrong. And with Izzy, I’m not willing to risk it.
Rickman pulls in with his red Ferrari. Figures. What a douche.
I’m so torn between going in there and laying it out for him and waiting to see if Izzy ever asks me to help, if she feels she can trust me enough to let me deal with him or not. On the one hand, I understand she might be afraid to burn bridges with her boss, but on the other, she’s ridiculous for letting one asshole dictate her happiness like he is. I don’t want to scare her away if I do something to her boss, but I also can’t stand by and do nothing.
About two minutes after Rickman walks inside, another car pulls up and parks next to his. I don’t pay much attention at first, but when I see who steps out of the Bugatti, dread socks me in the gut, confirming that my instincts were right.
“No fucking way.”
Whatever business that man has stepping inside that building is not good, and I’ll be damned if I let him anywhere near her ever again. I don’t wait for him to come out. Instead, I point my Escalade in the opposite direction so I can wait for him.
With crossed arms, I have one leg resting on my front tire, and my gaze searing into dirt bag extraordinaire Danny Dakota as he gets out of his overpriced vehicle. Two of his men wait out front for him, and they stand vigilant as he approaches me. I don’t give him time to ask what I’m doing here. “I don’t care what your business is with Rickman, but I’m telling you now, my woman stays outta your shit. She’s clean, and she’s totally off-limits in any and every way possible.”
Danny tilts his head, raises a brow, and takes a step toward me. His cronies do the same, and both of them reach for the pieces that are visible on their waist. Most men would be shittin’ bricks right now, but this asshole doesn’t scare me. “Which one is yours?”
“I don’t need to tell you for you to know.”
If Danny is working with Rickman right now for anything, he’s done his research, and he’s done it well. That means he knows everything about everybody connected to the shithead boss. He’s also probably had eyes on the place, so he’s seen me with her. Danny Dakota is a ruthless man who might be dirty as fuck, but his work is clean. And he’s not a moron; he knows damn well my woman is gonna be drop-dead gorgeous. Not that the other girls who work with her are dawgs, but Izzy is on another level.
Danny also happens to have an unlikely friendship with one of our guys’ women, which puts us in an awkward position from time to time. Although our paths typically don’t cross, we’ve got an unspoken agreement between us for peace because the last thing Royal or Danny Dakota need are tension between his crew and ours.
And if whatever his rat ass is doing with Rickman, I swear to Christ, one hair on my woman’s head gets touched because of him, I’ll put him to ground without a second thought.
“The beautiful raven-haired beauty, Isabel. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”
“Anything happens to