37. Tate

THIRTY-SEVEN

TATE

I had one more job to do. It needed to be done before I could ever relax. It had been a couple of days since the hunter attack. Miles was almost back to normal, his shifter healing had brought him back better than I'd thought. None of us had ever seen someone get shot full of that much silver and survive. Saying I was grateful was an understatement.

Harley was still on edge, but I'd actually grown calmer and less tense. In my opinion, not only had Emily saved Harley's life, she'd also scared the hunters off for even longer than most of the others thought. I'd told them I thought they'd be gone for a couple of months, but deep down, I thought it would be even longer. The spell that had stopped the bullet had probably scared the shit out of them. They hadn't known about that, which gave them something else to consider. The hunters would have no idea what other spells or curses Emily might have cast before she died. There were no others, as far as I knew, but they didn't know that. They would be like dust in the wind for a while. Maybe even years.

When I voiced that thought to Harley, she said, "They'll still be back. Aren't you worried?"

I shook my head. "I can't be worried forever. I truly think that, for now at least, the danger is gone."

That night in bed, I told her about the job I had to take care of, hiding the truth as much as I could. "I've got to fly out tomorrow. I've got a thing I've been putting off. Should only be gone a day or two."

She looked at me, and I could feel that strange connection we had now. There was the weirdest thought that she knew I was hiding something, but she could also tell it was important and not to push. She nodded. "Okay. Be careful. That's all I ask."

Before we fell asleep, I whispered, "Don't worry. Nothing is going to keep me away from you for long."

The next afternoon I landed at La Guardia Airport. I'd only brought a single backpack for the trip. I hadn't been lying when I said I'd only be gone a couple of days. I took a taxi to The Plaza Hotel. On the ride, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number Blayne had been able to dig up for me.

It only rang one time before there was an answer. "This is Luis, who the hell is this?"

"Ortiz?" I asked.

A long moment of silence filtered over the line before Luis said, "Oh, if it isn't the homewrecker. How are you doing, cocksucker? Has Harley dumped you yet? Did you call to let me know she was on the way back to me?"

"I want to meet. You name the place. We need to get things settled," I said, not rising to his insults.

"Brass balls on this one. Okay, we can do this," he said and then gave me an address near the docks in Hell's Kitchen.

"When? I can be there in two hours."

"Be there in an hour. Otherwise it's off." He hung up without waiting for an answer.

I'd let him choose the location because it would give him a false sense of security. He'd think he had the upper hand. He and his men would be sloppy and unprepared. Harley's last few months of pregnancy should be as stress-free as possible. This trip would ensure that. I leaned forward and tapped the glass, getting the cabbie's attention. I gave him the new address and sat back to enjoy the ride.

I got to the location twenty minutes early. I had the taxi drop me off a few blocks away and walked the rest of the way, scoping out each alley and around every corner. I didn't think they'd have anyone out this far to intercept me, but I wanted to cover all my bases. The spot was what had once been a warehouse—right on the waterfront that looked like it had been bought and renovated into some high price condos and penthouses. There was a doorman at the entrance. My trained eye could see the bulge of a pistol beneath his suit jacket.

He saw me walking up and said, "Are you Mr. Mills?"

I nodded. "I have an appointment with your employer. Ortiz."

The man glared. "That's Mr. Ortiz to you."

I gazed nonchalantly into the guy's eyes. "Are you gonna take me to him or not?"

"You're an arrogant bitch, ain't you? He told me about you. Arms up, I gotta pat you down."

I did as he asked. He rifled through my backpack, only finding a single change of clothes and some folders and papers. He opened the door and led me to the elevators, where he pushed the button for the top floor.

As the door closed, he grinned at me. "See you soon."

On the ride up, I pulled the folder out of my backpack and tucked it under my arm. When the door opened, I set my bag on the ground just outside the door. The penthouse was beyond gaudy. It was like Ortiz had eaten all his money and then shat it out all over the place. Zebra-skin rug, gold-trimmed lights, original oil paintings that didn't match or make sense in the space. It was what a child would do to try and prove he was rich. Ortiz would have been better served if he'd thrown a bit of his money at a good interior designer.

I rounded the corner and found myself in what I had to assume was the living room. Ortiz sat on an armchair in front of a massive gas fireplace. Two large muscle-heads flanked him. Another three guys stood or lounged around the room. They all had the affectation of being wholly unconcerned that I was there, but I could smell the anxiety and excitement coming off them. They were ready for a fight and looking forward to it.

Ortiz adjusted himself and grabbed a glass of what looked like whiskey off the table beside his chair. It was hard not to think he'd chosen that chair because it looked a little like a throne. I stifled an eye roll as I stopped ten feet away and stared him down.

Luis looked around at his men. "This, my friends, is the guy who decided he could shove his cock into my woman." He took a sip of his drink and then gestured around the room. "How can you give Harley a life half as good as this?"

I snorted. "What? This gold-plated trailer park? You don't know shit about Harley. Material things like this don't mean shit to her. And neither do you."

Luis smiled even more broadly, but I could tell I'd pissed him off. "Very funny. Very funny." He looked at the men to his left and right. "Didn't I tell you? Bowling balls between his legs. Well, courage can sometimes be confused with stupidity. I'll still give you props for having the guts to do this like a man. Much more commendable than waiting for me to sneak up behind you and put a bullet in your head."

I gritted my teeth. "Is that what you did to Harley's husband?"

A flutter of surprise passed over his face, but he kept his composure. "Who? Sammy? Don't know nothing about Sammy boy. Of course…" he glared at me, "…when a man has something I want, the gloves come off."

Ready for this to be over, I said, "I'm here to tell you to fuck off once and for all. Harley is mine. The baby is mine. Her girls are mine. You step one foot in the whole state of Colorado, I'll know, and I will not hesitate to end you."

Luis's face went red with anger. He downed the rest of his drink and then waved a hand. "Joey, handle this fucker, will you?"

The big guy to Ortiz's right stepped forward. I watched the big man step toward me. He was around six-four. Maybe two-hundred-thirty pounds. I could see scars on his knuckles, but none on his face. He was a fighter. A fighter who'd probably never lost. I tossed my file folder to the side as he got closer, freeing my hands.

He swung at me without preamble, hoping to catch me off guard. I pivoted and spun, grabbing his outstretched hand and twisting the arm up and back. There was a thick, meaty pop! as his shoulder popped out of its socket. The big man hit the floor, squealing like a pig, slapping at his chest and clutching at his shoulder, now sunken at an unusual angle. I kicked him in the face, knocking him out and silencing the godawful shrieks.

Ortiz leaned further back in his seat, obviously surprised. The men around the room had all tensed. They evidently hadn't anticipated their friend Joey going down so fast. Ortiz waved a hand at me, and the other four men rushed me.

The first guy kicked out at my stomach. I grabbed his foot before it hit me and drove my own foot into the knee of his other leg. The knee cracked and buckled backward. The man fell, screaming and clutching his ruined leg. A second goon grabbed me from behind, getting me in a headlock. Using my superior strength, I levered my hips, bending and spinning. He flew over my back and slammed down on the ground. I brought my foot down on his face, putting him to sleep.

The last two guys attacked me at once. I ducked out of the way of their punches and swept my leg under the guy on the right, dragging his feet out from under him. He fell over into his friend, and they both collapsed into a heap. I grabbed one by the hair and slammed a fist into his face three times before he went limp. The other had scrambled back to his feet and was grabbing for my shirt. I caught his outstretched hand and twisted my wrist, grabbing and snapping his two middle fingers back, breaking them. He hit his knees, cradling his hand and screaming. I spun and slammed a kick into the side of his head. A deafening silence fell over the room.

I straightened my shirt and glanced up at Ortiz. The look of arrogant unconcern had vanished. Now he looked afraid. Terrified beyond measure. He kept stealing glances at the desk fifteen feet away. I had to assume that he had a firearm over there, but he'd fucked up. It was too far away. He had no further recourse.

I stepped toward him slowly, stopping to grab my folder again. I walked to Luis and towered above him, glaring down at him like the insect he was. It was all I could do not to shift and show him exactly what he'd been screwing with all along, but I held my composure.

From the look on his face, I could see that Luis really believed I was here to kill him. He was shaking, actually shaking, like a cowering dog. There was still a hint of anger in his eyes, but fear overwhelmed it. His breath was coming in quick ragged hisses. I slapped the folder down on his lap with a bang.

I sneered at him in disgust. "Not such a big man once you realize who you're dealing with, are you?" I pointed at the folder, "My friends and I are good at digging. Better than the cops. Better even than the FBI. With the stuff we have in this file, we can end your life. The tax forms alone? If I send them to the IRS, you'll be gone for twenty-five years, easy. Remember, that's how they got Capone. The other stuff? Well, I guess you should be happy New York doesn't still have the death penalty."

"Here's the deal. You stay the fuck away from Harley and the girls. You stay on this goddamned side of the Mississippi, and forget all about us. You do that, and this information never goes anywhere. Can we agree on that?"

Luis had regained some of his previous courage, but underneath, I could still tell he was afraid of what I might do. He adjusted in the seat and opened the folder. He read the first few pages, turning them slowly. His face went pale. He paged faster, the paper snapping and popping in his hands as he flipped through all the information we had on him. Finally, he looked up at me, and I knew we had him.

Gritting his teeth, he said, "Fine! Get the hell out of here. Go back to your precious little lady. Tell her not to come crawling back when she's tired of you. Keep this shit quiet, and we got a deal."

All I did was nod. I turned to leave, stepping over the unconscious bodies I'd left in my wake. I pushed the button for the elevator and grabbed my backpack again. The ride back down the elevator was much more fun. A weight had been lifted off me. The door opened on the ground floor with a ding. When the doorman saw me, his jaw dropped. I walked past him without even glancing in his direction.

The air outside was cool and crisp. It felt good after what had just happened. My flight out wasn't until the next morning, but I thought I might try and change to an earlier flight. Things had gone faster than I thought they would.

There was one other thing I wanted to do before I went back home, though. So, I hailed a cab and gave the driver the name of the place I wanted to go. As we drove, a light drizzle began to come down outside. The lights of the city ticked by, and I allowed myself a sigh of relief.

A few minutes later, I stepped through the doors of the lounge and took a seat at the bar. It was the exact same stool I'd sat on months ago. Across the bar was the spot where I'd first set eyes on Harley.

The bartender put a beverage napkin down in front of me, and said, "What can I get you tonight, friend?"

"Whiskey sour, no ice."

"On it, boss."

He returned with the drink moments later, and I sipped at it for several minutes. Continuing to stare at the spot where Harley had been sitting, I felt the nostalgia. The way my heart had warmed, and the stirring of my dragon, how beautiful she looked, it all came back. It hit me that even then, on that night, I felt the pull toward her. She was meant for me.

I downed the rest of the drink and looked around one last time at the place where it all began. Then, I stood and placed twenty dollars on the bar. I gave the place one last glance and smiled to myself. I left and went back home to my family.