“No,” she flashes a brief smile. “He was intimidating. Tall and lean with shaggy blond hair like those skater boys wear and dark eyes, practically black. Anyway, he stopped me and asked me to give you a message.”
“Me? Did he use my name?”
“Said to give Shades a message,” she clarifies. “And he seemed to know that I’d be able to give you a message,” she says, her voice thick with regret. “Anyway, he said, ‘tell Shades I want to see him. Soon.’ That’s how he said it, exactly like that.”
“Son of a bitch,” I growl because this is exactly why I can’t touch her. It’s why I can’t have her.
Ace shoots off his stool, his expression dark and foreboding. “Did he give you a name?”
Letty shook her head. “No, sorry. But he said you would know who the message is from.”
“Goddamn right we do,” Joaquin grunts, and his hands bunch and flex into fists. “Sorry, Church Girl.”
“The name is Letty, and I’m not so easily offended, Potty Mouth.” She flashes a wide smile like she’s proud she got a dig in of her own.
“It’s one of Hector’s men,” I say. “Has to be.”
“Oh!” Letty perks up and points to Joaquin with a smile. “He was wearing one of those leather vests with lots of patches on it. I remember two of them. Iron Kings and Road Captain. Does that help?”
She looks up at me with hopeful blue eyes, and I know, then and there, that there’s nothing I won’t do to keep her safe.
Joaquin laughs and claps his hands. “It helps us know exactly which Iron King to stomp the shit out of.”
“Joaquin,” Ace barks. “Not the time.”
Letty’s eyes go wide. “You won’t do that. Will you?”
“Sweetheart, the asshole accosted you in the parking lot of your church,” I tell her. “That’s unacceptable.”
“But I’m fine,” she insists, her gaze bouncing around the room in search of an ally. “He didn’t even touch me, Shades. He hovered over me, and I stood tall and stared him down to let him know I wasn’t afraid.”
“That’s good, Letty, but you don’t know these guys, and I don’t know how to make you understand.”
She shakes her head. “There’s nothing to understand. I told him I would deliver the message and not show his face at church again unless he’s there to worship. It’s done, Shades. Over.”
I look up at my brothers who are half-amused and half-worried because we were all present for the horrors Kelsey and McKenna went through.
And Grace.
They know her behavior. Her show of strength only makes the kings want to break her.
“It’s not over, Letty. I’m sorry, but it’s not. It can’t be.” Not until I slam that Road Captain’s face into the concrete enough to disfigure his ugly fucking mug.
“Letty.” Preacher takes a step forward, and his gaze focuses in on hers. “Psalms 11:5. You know it?”
She nods. “The Lord tests the righteous, but his soul hates the wicked and the one who loves violence.” Her brows furrow in confusion.
Preacher continues, “These guys, they love violence for the sake of violence, sweetheart. Your show of confidence and your lack of fear will only make them want to do things that make you afraid, that shake your confidence. Understand?”
“Seriously?” She looks up at me, and I nod my confirmation.
“Seriously.” I turn her to face me and put both hands on her shoulders. “This isn’t an idle threat, Letty. They approached you for a reason.”
I’m the reason, goddammit. They must have followed her to my place last night, or they’ve been watching the church from a distance. A long distance.
“That was a threat meant for me but against you.”
“I don’t…” her head is shaking, and she’s stepping back, pulling away from me. “I mean, I’m nobody to you.”