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Damn. Had that been just last night?

Maybe this isn’t a good idea. All it would take is one person to spot me and alert my father.

“Any chance you heard anything about last night from your dad?”

“Right. Because Daddy has always been super forthcoming about his business with me. Or, you know, anyone outside his tight circle.” She’s quiet for another moment, then, “I’m putting out a call. You’re nervous.”

Yeah. I am, but I don’t want to admit that to her and I really don’t appreciate being made to feel this fucking fear after taking care of myself for so long.

“I’ll be fine. I’ll watch for you. Text me when you’re heading out,” I say as I find an open spot less than a block away from the entrance to the bar and carefully parallel park Kato’s car.

He would shit a full wall of bricks if he found out I’m parking his car along the curb where anyone could easily scratch the shiny paint, or even ding the vehicle.

“Already on my way. See you in fifteen.”

Damn. My girl must have jumped in the car the second I asked her to come out.

“Heading inside now. See you when you get here.”

I end the call and grab the key fob before turning to watch for traffic then push the car door open.

Kato’s lucky I bother locking the fucking doors and setting the alarm with the level of anger scorching my nervous system.

Curling my shoulders forward against the cold breeze blowing right through the tiny holes of my sweater, I keep my head down, letting my long, inky dark hair act as a curtain and shield against anyone who might look in my direction.

Probably should have grabbed a jacket, but all I cared about when I left was getting the fuck away from the only three men on this planet who hold the ability to crush my heart.

And have done a pretty good fucking job of it.

As I pull the door open, blinking as I go from the bright afternoon sun to the dimly lit bar, my ears vaguely register the rumbling purr of an approaching motorcycle and if I’m not mistaken, I’m pretty sure I know exactly who’s on it.

Of course, Madd found me. Because there’s a fucking tracker somewhere on my body.

Does that mean Brix and Kato are behind him? If they think for one fucking second they can force me back to the house, they’re not only going to end up with bruises and maybe even a few bite marks, but I’ll make the biggest scene possible. I’ll make sure everyone inside and outside the bar knows what’s going on.

They might hold a lot of power, but surely the cops showing up isn’t on their wish list for the day.

Instead of waiting to see what he’ll do, I let the door swing shut behind me and find a table near the back where I can watch the door, but far enough to not be seen immediately if –when– Madd comes barreling through the door.

Flora and her guards will be here soon. And the thing is, I’m not worried about her guards and Maddox facing off.

Nope. It’s Flora who will go all psycho banshee on him if he tries to muscle me out of the bar or even talk to me when it’s obvious I need time away from him and the other two.

Not three minutes later, the door opens and Madd’s broad form fills the space, his body backlit, casting his face in shadows.

Weird thing, though, is that I can feel the moment his eyes find me even if I can’t see them. It’s like his attention is palpable, like some kind of beam locking onto me.

Though I can’t see his eyes, I still refuse to turn my attention away.

He shocks the shit out of me when he takes a seat at a table closer to the door, his body positioned so he can see me, the entire inside of Salty’s and the front door. He’s prepared to act as my guard, a sentry. He’ll watch over me, watch out for me, even if I have no interest in speaking to him right now.

A waitress approaches and I order two lemon drop shots and two glasses of Merlot before realizing I have no idea whether Flora’s drink choices have changed. “You know what? I’ll just wait until my friend gets here. She might not want wine,” I say.

And really, I don’t have money or a card to give her to open a tab. Sure, I can easily go demand one or the other from Madd but that would involve actually speaking to him.

Not now. Maybe not today at all.

The tenuous trust I’d begun to feel for my husbands feels as though it’s unraveling strand by strand.