“Ye’re a deid man, Douglas!” I snatch the Glock from the back of my waistband.
The front of the wooden dresser shatters from gunfire. The drone comes into view.
“Shite!” I grit out, gaze narrowed. I double tap. Standing, I aim the gun for the drone. The other hand stays pressed on the blood leaking from my ribs. Warm viscous liquid spills over my fingers. I’ve been shot. Can’t be much of a bullet, though, maybe a .22 caliber.Feckin’bullet is still wedged inside me.
I let off a shot. Yates isn’t on the ground. He’s used a glass fragment to cut the zip tie from his wrists. Since I hadn’t secured his ankles, the bloody snake has got free. A wild glint shines in his eyes. There’s at least one last card up his sleeve. He wiggles his cellphone.
“Ye have a ringer in yer hand. This right here is afeckin’Glock,numptynugget.” I laugh.
A loud cackle grates my eardrums. Yates stumbles toward the only window in his bedroom. “This is my territory. Look at those wires, Leith. I’ll grant you one last chance to calm down.”
“Orwit?” I taunt.
“I’ll blow us up before I let you ruin the empire I’ve created!”
Chapter 39
Chevelle
Tonight’s becoming shittierby the second. I’m hornier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. To make matters worse, with Leith so far away, I have a big ass mouth. This afternoon, I bit my tongue from sharing my conversation with Ophelia Kelly with him. She was the surprise. Mia’s Label would be taking flight. She’d called ecstatic about us finally working together. Leith had been my first thought upon hanging up. I called him around lunch, eager to celebrate.
In the end, I settled for tempting him with a surprise. Let’s hope he has the same opinion of my new connection. Although, it reads more like a secret that Leith may or may not be happy about.
For instance, yesterday. Working for Michie made me feel crappy. The dick attempted to manipulate me by way of those gorgeous eyes. He knows Leith’s adamant that I not bartend.Why did I help him out?
But tonight, I’m on the phone with Ophelia for a second time. I’d been on pins and needles for almost two weeks. While standing on the balcony with a robe wrapped around me, I perceive the difference between now and earlier. The excitement thatwasin her voice could now be likened with the dark, gloomy sea.
“I apologize for calling so late, Chevelle.”
“No worries,” I reply, sensing that my dreams are about to shatter. No, my visions are in a rocket that I’m not flying to the moon.Damn, Leith, I need you right about now.
He’s my happy.
Justice strongly suggested that I expand my horizons, but there’s the stubborn girl in me who fell in love with him ages ago. The same girl who was denied her father.
“So, how can I help you tonight?” I ask. Ophelia had been all ecstatic earlier, and I laid on the charm, discussing the uniqueness of Mia’s Label. The air seems to shift as I await her reason to call a second time tonight.
“I must ask,” she pauses, hesitantly, “are you affiliated withthoseMacKenzies? Your husbandisblack, right?”
“No.” I pause on suspended hope. “The love of my life, father of my child, he’s a proud Scot and a proud MacKenzie. I am too. Although,” I cringe at the unnecessary clause, “we don’t dabble in certain familial hobbies.”
“I’m sorry, Chevelle. This isn’t going to wor—”
“I’m sure that it won’t. Good night.” Shaking, I try Leith’s number. It rings once. Then I’m greeted by his voicemail. “Did my husband just press the away button?”
Eyelid twitching, I contemplate all the ways he’ll pay for this. Leith has a habit of mumbling responses when on the computer, which is exactly how he acted on our call around lunchtime. But to totally disregard me?
“Okay. Maybe he’s busy. Don’t be rash, Chevelle,” I tell myself.
There’s scientific proof that thinking about a glass of wine helps people relax. I imagine pouring myself a tall, generous glass of Chianti that tastes as rich as sun-drenched Sangiovese grapes.
“Forget Ophelia,” I tell myself. “What’s meant to be will be.”
Five minutes later, I open a bottle, allowing it a chance to breathe and the complexities of the wine to develop. I need this wine like air tonight so that I can keep from letting my mind wander.
Seated at the travertine ledge of the bathtub, I run the hot water. After a while, the tub is brimming with sudsy water. I pour myself a glass and lean back with a sigh.
I inhale the flavors of sour cherry, coffee, and balsamic. The profile resonates around me, and I imagine Leith and me in Italy's Chianti hills, wandering through a vineyard.He’s at home. I mean, he’s at Mable’s, probably went to sleep early.