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The high-pitched squealing of the baby. The lower sobs of the woman.
I couldn’t stand either of them. “Shut the fuck up.” I ground my teeth. “Seriously. Shut. The fuck. Up.”
The woman, Kara, glared at me through watery eyes. “You want me to be quiet? Just let us go. What good are we to you? My family has no money if you were hoping for a ransom. I’m not going to tell anyone about what you’ve done. No one would believe me anyway. You’re a respected member of society, and I’m a nobody. Just let me go and you’ll never see either of us again.”
I pressed my hands into the sides of my head, trying to think through the racket the baby made. It was a trick. A trap. A game the woman was playing, trying to one-up me. I didn’t know what her endgame was, not yet. But something inside me wouldn’t let her go. Some deeper instinct said I needed to hold on to this one until I knew more about her.
But fuck, she was trying my patience. “You’re not going anywhere. You came to me, begging for money.” I cast an arm around the room. “Look at this place. Thick carpet. Expensive furniture. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? A fancy home? You greedy bitch. I give you what you want, and you still aren’t grateful.”
Hugh shifted on the couch, crossing his legs, his gaze bouncing between the two of us with interest. “She ain’t staying here, Caleb. No fucking way.”
I glared at him. “I bought you this house. What makes you think you get a say in who lives here?”
I’d ditched the ambulance after my little Chaos sacrifice to the Slayers. That had kept them happy enough to quit chasing me and pounce on him instead. But I couldn’t go back to my place. Coming here probably wasn’t even the best idea, but I was quickly running out of places to go. I hadn’t been to my office in ages, and this hiding away thing was getting old fast. I had to come up with a better solution. I wasn’t giving up everything I’d worked for just to abandon it.
Kara put her baby to her tit, and I looked away in disgust. But at least the feral thing was quiet.
“This place reeks,” I complained to Hugh. “You need to get a cleaner in here.”
He tossed a piece of popcorn into his mouth. “I did. Even they can’t get out the smoke stench. Nothing to be done about that apparently, but they did say it would subside in time.”
“What kind of shit cleaner can’t get out the smell of smoke? Spray it with some fucking Febreze or some shit.”
Hugh ground his teeth into his popcorn. “She was a specialist. A pricey one too. Gonna send that Rebel bitch the bill. I know it was her who set that fire. Her and Vaughn Weston.”
I ran my tongue along my teeth. “Should have killed her when I had the chance.”
“We didn’t know she was going to turn into such a pain in the ass. Or that she was in with the MC.”
Which just pissed me off all the more. I hadn’t been thinking. I was too busy trying to get back at my bitch of an ex that I hadn’t done my research. It was lazy.
I should have learned from the little slut sitting across the room with a baby she claimed to be mine. Not doing your research had consequences.
Fuck my life.
My phone rang, and I pulled it out of my pocket.
“Who’s that?” Hugh asked, only barely interested. He was mostly ogling Kara’s half-naked breast.
I groaned, “Harold fucking Coker.”
“Who?”
“Vaughn’s dad’s business partner? Self-appointed manager of the old boys’ club. What the hell does he want?”
Hugh went to reply, but I held one finger up, silencing him, and answered the phone. “Harold! So good to hear from you. How’s that golf swing coming along?”
I wanted to roll my eyes at how fake I sounded, but Harold ate it up.
“Excellent, my boy. Excellent. The Bahamas was amazing. We played a lot of golf. Did a lot of business talk. Really do wish you could have made it.”
I dug my fingers into the phone case so hard I was surprised it didn’t crack. I would have happily played golf in the Bahamas if the old man hadn’t rescinded his invitation. And all because I didn’t have a wife to play happy family with like him and his friends? It was fucking bullshit. Now I’d missed out on all the business details I desperately wanted to grow my own company. Getting into the old boys’ business club was proving harder than getting into Kara’s tight little cunt.
And she’d fought me like a pro.
I smiled at the memory, though now wasn’t the time to get hard over past sexual exploits. “Next time for sure,” I assured the old asshole.
“That’s actually why I’m calling. As you know, it’s Bart’s funeral tomorrow.”