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LATER THAT AFTERNOON, back at Susan’s house, Sage spent hours scrolling through tweets revolving around her father’s death until her eyes hurt. She could no longer blink away the pain.
She pushed the iPad away and rubbed her eyes.
“Anything?” Duke asked, leaning over her shoulder. His warm breath kissed her neck and it took all her strength not to turn around and kiss him. But they weren’t alone.
She shook her head. “No. But now that Ally’s identity had been broadcasted, there are all kinds of people coming forward claiming to be Dean’s kids. I’m talking pages. I wrote them down.” Sage lifted the book to Duke and he took a seat beside her at the kitchen table.
“Are you thinking there’s a connection?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I mean, I guess killing Dean, and then my mom and I would leave a possible sibling with his money.”
Duke flipped through the pages before he set the book down. “Have you seen Dean’s will? Do you know if he left you anything?”
“Knowing my dad, I’m sure he wouldn’t have cared enough to alter the will after my mom divorced him.”
“And what did the will say?”
“Everything is left to me.”
Duke propped the iPad up and pressed play on a video of the news replaying the drive-by from a business security camera. “Do you recognize anything?”
Sage groaned. “I’ve already watched this more than a dozen times.”
“That car belongs to one of Ronald Santos’s men,” Bowie said.
Sage hadn’t heard her come up behind them. She leaned between her and Duke’s shoulders while Stone sat across the table and crinkled a bag of tortilla chips, pulling out a handful.
Duke pressed pause. “Are you sure?” Even he couldn’t hide the worry in his tone.
“Yes. Rewind it,” Bowie said.
Duke slid his finger over the screen to restart the video.
Bowie reached over and pressed pause. “Look, that’s one of Ronald Santos’s symbols.” She tapped the screen and Duke zoomed in.
Sage prayed she was wrong because if Santos was after her father that meant he’d owed him money. No one owed Santos money. He was the largest drug supplier in the city. Untouchable with half the police force in his back pocket and the fear of God put into anyone who dealt with him. Sage had only heard the name from her time on the streets, and still knew not to mess with him.
“The police would know that,” Bowie said. “And if they didn’t mention it to you that means someone is working on the inside close to your case.” She walked around the table and started to massage Stone’s shoulders. “Why didn’t you recognize his emblem?” she asked Duke.
“Maybe Banks is their inside guy?” Sage suggested not wanting to give Duke a reason to think being with her was keeping him from protecting her. “He was trying awful hard to blame me, Linda, and Ally.”
“Possibly,” Duke turned back to Bowie. “What’s your theory? Why would Santos be after Dean?”
Bowie’s hands stilled. “Dean owed him money. Not thousands or tens of thousands. I’m talking hundreds of thousands.”
The amount winded Sage. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t find air. She didn’t have hundreds of thousands of dollars saved up. She’d been generous when she offered Duke ten thousand to hire her another bodyguard. And that had been in expectation of the money Dean left her. If her no good father owed Santos, that meant he’d died broke. Money had never meant much to Sage, but her and her mother’s life meant the world.
“When Santos doesn’t get his money, he gets blood.” Bowie’s words blurred together inside Sage. “First Dean, then Celeste, which he’ll finish off before finding Sage.”
“Hundreds of thousands,” Sage whispered and then stood. “Excuse me.” She started toward the back door needing air, but knew if she went outside Duke would follow her. Needing her own space, she hurried down the hallway to the bathroom.
Her stomach heaved as she turned the lock. She lifted the toilet seat lid and spewed out Susan’s homemade wraps.
If Santos was involved, she was as good as dead. Her mother too. It was only a matter of time. He didn’t leave loose ends.
She sat on the toilet seat and rested her forehead on the sink’s cold edge. Staying here was only adding people to Santos’s list if he ever found out. Duke, Susan, Bowie, Stone and even Slate. And if she stayed, he would find out.
Sage dug toothpaste out of the drawer and squeezed some on her finger tip. She smeared the minty paste over her teeth and tongue before filling her palm with water and sipping it. She rinsed out her mouth when there was a knock on the door.
“I’ll be out in a minute.” Or an hour or two. Heck, maybe she would spend the night in here.
“Sage, open the door.” Duke’s voice rumbled through the wood.
Tears she hadn’t realized she was holding back, poured down her face. “No.”
“Sage?”
She reached across the small space and twisted the lock.
Duke took one step inside—there wasn’t much more room—and bent down in front of her. He took her hands in his.
“We will figure this out.”
She wiped her eyes. “I don’t have hundreds of thousands of dollars to just hand over. I’m as good as dead.”
He gripped the sides of her face. “We don’t even know that’s what happened.”
Sage nodded in his hands. “Yes, we do.”
“I have money.”
“You don’t just walk money up to Ronald Santos. Besides, I’m not taking your money. We need to tell the police.”
Duke shook his head. “We can’t. You heard what Bowie said, if they didn’t even mention Santos, that means there’s a dirty cop. We can’t risk it.”
“Do you have a better plan?”
“Keep digging until we know for sure.”
“If you keep digging, you’re endangering your life.”
“I don’t care.” He kissed her lips but Sage’s mouth didn’t correspond. How could she even think about kissing or sex when her life was on the line? Or maybe now was as good a time as ever to think about what felt good right now because next week she could be dead.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth harder against hers, clicking their teeth together and moulding their lips into one. Their magnetic bond was so strong, that even if she tried, she wouldn’t be able to pull away from him.
His arms clamped around her waist and lifted her from the seat, switching places and bringing her back down to straddle his lap. His fingertips crept underneath her clothes, conveying heat to every area of her skin he touched. His tongue ravished her neck, across her shoulders and back to her mouth. She never wanted to leave the confinement of these four walls.
***
“I CAN GET US INTO A fight.” Bowie jumped from her chair when they returned to the kitchen.
It took Duke a minute to realize what they were even talking about. Instead of being angry that he’d forgotten about Sage’s situation, he was glad he’d given her all of him in the bathroom. He was back now to focus on a plan.
“Hell no!” Stone stood too.
“Fight? What do you mean a fight?” Sage asked.
“I can get access to an elite underground fight where Santos places bets higher than whatever amount your father could have racked up.”
“I don’t have the money—” Duke cut Sage off by wrapping his hand around hers. He’d give her every last dollar Dean owed if it could save her life.
“Don’t worry about money,” Bowie said, truly showing her real colors. Unconditional love.
“I can get Sage into a fight and Santos will not miss her,” Bowie continued. “He doesn’t miss anyone. If it’s money he’s after, he’ll have someone approach her during the game for an invite, in which we’ll hand over the cash and be done with all of this.”
“The cash?” Sage choked out.
“If it’s blood, his guys will grab her after the match, but we’ll already have the heads up and not be stupid enough to get caught.”
“No.” Duke agreed with Stone. The risk was too high. An underground fight included no police, only shady men with orders to beat and kill.
“But I would have to go along,” Bowie said as if she hadn’t heard either man. “If Duke plans to go, attending with me won’t look odd since he’s been my bodyguard for the last decade. If I bring Sage as my guest, questions will not be asked.”
“Last month we were responsible for busting up the largest fighting ring in the city. How would you even find another fight?” Stone asked.
She bit her lower lip looking reluctant. There was no going back now, they all knew.
“They’ve been in touch,” she reluctantly said.
“Who’s been in touch?” Stone’s face went stone cold, reminding them of how he’d gotten his fighting nickname.
“An invite was extended for you to finish what you started,” Bowie said.
“And you’re just telling me this now?” Stone asked.
“It didn’t mean anything until now. Obviously, we weren’t going to fight, so why would I bring it up?”
Duke slid the iPad across the table. “We’re not using Sage as bait. There has to be another way. We could contact Santos and send him the money without meeting him.”
Bowie shook her head. “You don’t just send money to Santos. You make him request you. If he doesn’t request you, he doesn’t want the money.”
“I’ll do it,” Sage said.
“We still haven’t confirmed it’s Santos.” Walking back into an elite fighting match was the last thing Duke wanted to do—again.
Sage turned to face him, rubbing one of her arms with her other hand. “I’m not hiding for the rest of my life.”
He was beginning to enjoy hiding away with her. He could see himself living alone with her in the woods until the day he died.
“But you’ll risk dying?”
“To be free? Yes.” She turned to Bowie with a stubbornness he found attractive—when her life wasn’t in danger. “What do you need me to do?”
***
“HAVE YOU ALL LOST YOUR goddam minds?” Slate’s head hadn’t stopped shaking since the second the words “underground fight” had come out of Stone’s mouth. He’d never approved of Stone’s refusal to fight the legal game, but they’d buried that hatchet last month, only to drag it all up again. At this point, Duke had to agree with him.
Slate pointed his finger around the room. “You’re damn right you’ve all lost your minds.” His finger stopped at Stone. “You’ve been hit one too many times, son. You can’t tell a good idea from a goddam crazy one.”
“I’m still trying to wrap my mind around being invited to another Fight Club,” Hawk said, stretched out on the living room chair with one ankle resting on his knee and his arms propped behind the back of his head. He’d been silently watching the plan unfold since he’d arrived.
“We need backup,” Stone said. “You’ve been there and know the ins and outs, how to act, what to say, and what not to say.”
“I know I got the shit kicked out of me last time.” He touched his face where the bruises had now lost their color and looked healed. “And I can’t tell a damn woman about it because it’s top secret fight club.”
“Are you in?” Duke didn’t feel up to an all night discussion. They were either doing it or not.
“Damn straight,” Hawk said.
“Good. Stone will fill you in with the details,” Duke said, needing a break from an idea he wasn’t sure he fully agreed with.
“Dad, we need you to stay here with Susan,” Stone said as Duke walked outside.
Bowie glanced up from where she sat with Sage at the table. When she saw him, she excused herself, rubbing her hand down the side of his arm as she passed.
Sage had the same wool blanket wrapped around herself that she’d had the night of the campfire. The night that had changed his life.
“You have great friends,” Sage said.
“This is a bad idea,” he said. “If Santos wants blood, it won’t end tomorrow unless you’re in a body bag.”
“But if Dean’s debt is all he’s after, it will end tomorrow. If I don’t go, Santos won’t stop until I’m dead.”
“If it is Santos. We’re going on the hunch of a drug dealer’s car being on that video—that’s it. If the hit wasn’t ordered by Santos, you’re putting yourself in danger.”
“Walk with me.” Sage stood and held out her hand.
Duke slipped his hand in hers, the perfect fit, and they walked across the backyard.
“You’ll be with me the entire time,” she said.
“So the only thing I have to worry about is keeping you alive.” He wasn’t a man to complain, but shit, this idea was nuts.
Sage opened the door to the greenhouse and they walked inside. Susan had already filled the tables along the walls with trays of multi-purpose compost and seed pots. The table in the middle of the greenhouse they’d used to plant the pots was now empty. The heater wouldn’t need to run until the colder months, so for now, the summer days warmed the building.
“We’ve been fine tuning the details all day.” Sage dropped the blanket at the door and took a few steps back. “I don’t want to think about tomorrow’s meeting any more tonight.” She stopped walking when her derriere hit the table edge. She slowly she shimmied her pants off.
“Do you want to talk about tomorrow?” She lifted the hem of her blouse and his man parts said no, but his logical side ...
“Yes.”
“Duke! I’m trying to seduce you.”
He crossed the floor and pressed his body against hers, wedging her between him and the table. “I don’t want you to be unprepared.”
“Tomorrow I have to walk back into a life I left a long time ago. Gambling, drugs, and drinking. I know Santos is dangerous and I know he could shoot me right there, but I don’t have a choice. I’m doing it and all these people who love you are willing to risk their life for me. So right now, step back, watch me strip and then make love to me, because we need to get back in there and show them how much we appreciate their help.”
She was right, and as much as Duke wanted to go through the plan again, he could wait until morning when her mind was fresh. Besides, he’d been growing hard from the second they stepped inside the greenhouse. He’d known her intention and apparently although his mind could ignore it, his lower body couldn’t.
However, he didn’t let her strip for him. Instead, he pulled her panties down her legs and lifted her bare ass onto the table. Spreading her soft legs, he stepped between them and grasped the edge of her blouse, pulling it up and over her head. He drunk in every last inch of beauty before him.
“Sweet Sage ...”