Hear Me Roar (The Bloodshed Duet Book 2)

by Dee Garcia

  “That's Brie, isn't it?” I asked, suddenly feeling insecure, little even.

  Two things that seemed to be the ongoing theme for the night. I’d about had it.

  Rey nodded, glaring lethally in Brie’s direction. “The one and only.”

  “Wonderful,” I conceded.

  Running my gaze over the offending brunette from head to toe, I noted our height was really all we had in common, and perhaps the length of our hair. Heavily tattooed with glossy dark waves and dangerous curves, she was my absolute polar opposite, and although I couldn't see her face, I knew she was gorgeous. Alright, so I had my own unique qualities and my body held some curves, too, but Brie made me look like an ordinary twig in comparison.

  “C’mon, let's go sneak up on them. I can't wait to see her skanky ass flip out when she sees you two together,” Reyna snickered, linking her arm through mine with purpose.

  I laughed at her choice of words and shook my head as we weaved in and out through the throngs of people still lurking about. This was going to be interesting, to say the least. The closer we inched toward Knox and Brie, the more the sight of them together throttled a keen sense of anger through my being. She had some damn nerve chatting him up so casually, after what she'd so idiotically done. But her loss was my gain, and I didn't quite care for her threatening what was rightfully mine.

  Grabbing Reyna’s hand, I led us the rest of the way to the front of the lobby and stopped just inches away, walking my fingers up Knox’s back.

  “Coach, I'm ready to go,” I purred, raising up on the tips of my toes to kiss his cheek.

  Then I acted like I'd just noticed her and turned to face the woman Knox shared three years of his life with. And just as I'd suspected, she was the definition of beautiful. Her eyes were as blue as his, framed by dark lashes and thick edgy glasses that sat on a perfectly upturned nose. Her lips weren't as full as mine, but they were highly defined by a bright red shade of lipstick. Her hourglass figure was a man’s wet dream and her tattoos were undeniably bad ass. Everything about her screamed sexy, and my heart swiftly plummeted to my stomach. How the hell was I supposed to compete with that?

  Despite the insecurity dripping through my veins, I put on my game face and arched my brow. “I'm sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. You are?”

  She smiled, but it didn’t touch her eyes. “Brie Dawson.”

  “Ahhh, so you’re Brie. Can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you, cause well, it’s not,” I admitted.

  Knox went rigid beside me and Reyna choked out a laugh that lured Brie’s eyes in her direction for a split-second.

  “Gee, quite the catch you got there, Carr. Just a word of advice; you may wanna rethink your decision to ink her name on you. Her attitude smells like shit.”

  Did this chick have a death wish?

  Keeping myself in check was no easy feat, but I stood my ground. She was gonna have to do a lot more than ruffle my feathers for me to snap.

  “What are you doing here, Brie?”

  “I came to see my friend. Is that a crime?” she retorted.

  “It is when we’re not friends,” Knox snapped.

  “Oh, please. We’ll always be friends. You know I can’t go too long without talking to you.”

  “Well, you better find a way to get used it.”

  “Yeah? Or what?”

  This fucking bitch…

  “You don’t wanna go there, Brie,” Reyna warned.

  “Why? Cause she’ll go all big, bad Lioness on me? After that royal flop back there, I don’t think I’m very scared.”

  “You should be,” I gritted out, to which she rolled her eyes.

  “Give it up, Hazel. Your bravado doesn’t faze me. Anyway” – she fluttered her eyes back to Knox – “come back to the shop this week, and I’ll ink that thing on you if you really want me to, no charge. I promise I’ll be a real good girl.”

  Breathe, Perry, breathe…

  Stepping in front of my man, I looked her dead in the eye and cocked my head to one side. “What part of ‘leave my man alone’ didn’t you understand the first time he told you?”

  “All of it, you wanna know why? Because he was mine first and if I know him the way I do, he’s gonna get tired of that frizzy mop and rugged appearance of yours real soon. Knox is all man, Lioness, and real men need real women with soft curves to devour. And guess who has that? Moi. I’ll always be here to give him what he truly craves when everything else falls short.”

  Annnd...SNAP.

  In about five seconds, I had her pinned to the wall, my hand wedged just beneath her jaw. Several people, including Knox and Reyna, gasped in surprise. Reyna tried prying me off but I flung my arm, tossing her right into my man. Brie’s blue eyes widened in alarm, her pulse thrumming wildly against my palm, bringing me instant gratification. So much for not being afraid, huh? I inched my face as close to hers as possible, my brows furrowed together.

  “I will nail you to the fucking wall if you don’t stay away from him,” I growled menacingly.

  “Are you threatening me?” she asked, struggling to speak around my grip.

  “Take it as you want. I’m not playing this game with you, Brie. Back the fuck off, or you’ll find that I have absolutely no problem rearranging that pretty little mug of yours.”

  She opened her mouth to fire back, but I never got to hear what she said. Reyna yanked me off of her before the words were set free. She pushed me toward the front door while Knox stayed behind, hopefully to finish what I’d started. Were my actions childish? Maybe, but the little tramp deserved way worse. This was the last fucking straw. Regardless of the fact he hadn’t been mentioning it, I knew she was still texting him. How, you ask? Because he always carried his phone around now, or sometimes he’d receive a message and his entire demeanor would go from chill from irate. It’s those little details a woman notices that shoot up the red flags. Then, of course, you have the whole tattoo shop, and now this. Three strikes and you’re out, bitch.

  I was done playing nice. If she didn’t slither back into the grimy hole from which she’d emerged, I’d drag her there myself.

  Our lives had turned into some unofficial witness protection program. Manny had been sleeping over every night for two weeks – Kilo, too – and the outside of our building was being monitored twenty-four-seven. As promised, Manny was with the girls from sun up to sun down, and whenever they ventured out in an attempt to live life as normally as possible, Manny had two guys on their tail. He had another two outside of Karley’s office that followed her around, too. He’d insisted on sending one out with me as well, but walking into a client’s home with an FBI-looking motherfucker behind me was out of the question. I’d be fine. Besides, the initial plan started out with only four extra heads, and somehow Manny had added another four to the original count, all of which I knew he was paying out of pocket himself. I’d tried hinting I’d be more than happy to pitch in, but he was as stubborn as Hazel; at least, in this respect. There was no reasoning with him and after a few days of going back and forth about it, I dropped it. I was never going to win the uphill battle of wills, so why press my case further?

  Besides, by the looks of it, we might’ve been on the verge of returning to our old lives. Week three post-Dimitri voicemail was quickly fading into week four, and he had yet to show his face. He hadn’t made any further contact either, and I couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. I had a theory that he knew we were on high alert, so he remained hidden in the shadows, waiting for us to put our guards down just enough for him to swoop in and cause mass destruction. I’d shared this little morsel of information with Manny, who agreed it was probable based on the type of man Dimitri was. Remember when he’d told us he was going to attempt to find out just what dirty shit Dimitri kept tightly under wraps? Well, it turns out that in just a few days’ time, he did. He uncovered a boatload of information even Maya was surprised to hear. Not only did this man smuggle drugs to and from Russia, he smuggled weapons
and cases of counterfeit money to other parts of the globe too. He’d even brought a few spring chickens over from Russia under a work visa and forced them into elite strip clubs, deeming him owner of their passports until he saw fit. Dimitri Petrova was bad, bad news and, unfortunately for us, had connections all around the world. Now all we could do was wait and hope that perhaps he’d realized claiming what he thought was rightfully his was actually more of a hassle than he cared to deal with.

  But we didn’t have to wait for long…

  Just when I thought I saw some sort of light at the end of the tunnel, I received a text from Hazel one afternoon, while finishing up with my last client of the day. We were in the middle of our cool down when the text came in, but I didn’t see it until I made it into the 4 Series and started up the engine.

  Kitten: Come home as soon as you can.

  My heart stopped as I read and re-read the message several times to ensure I was reading it correctly. Obviously, my mind went to the worst place possible and, with quick fingers, I typed out a response with my stomach entrenched in my throat.

  Me: Is everything okay?

  Thankfully, her reply was relatively instantaneous, but the message didn’t settle me, not even remotely.

  Kitten: No, but Manny’s here so don’t start freaking out.

  Me: I’m on my way.

  I peeled out of Mrs. Saunders’ driveway and raced home. And by raced, I mean driving through the streets at over sixty miles per hour, running a handful of red lights, and careening around corners like burning tires was going out of style. What could have happened? Had Dimitri called again? Had he perhaps upped his game to the next level and broken into the house? Had he gotten ahold of Maya?

  Fuck.

  I was a mere few blocks away from the condo when I got stuck in traffic. It wasn’t a constant stop and go, but it took me three cycles at the same light before I was able to make the final turn that led to the complex. Then I had to wait at least another three minutes right outside the development, as a funeral procession drove past me at the pace of a turtle. My knuckles were white against the steering wheel as I gritted my teeth impatiently, mentally counting to ten in attempt to keep it together for just a little longer.

  As the last car in the succession rolled by, I threw myself across the street and jammed my keycard into the reader to access the gates. Apparently, the world was against me, or so it seemed, because the gateway had never opened so slowly.

  “Come on, come on,” I gritted out, just barely wedging my way through before they opened in their entirety.

  I zoomed past the buildings and screeched to a halt into my parking spot, noting the blacked-out SUV with Manny’s boys was situated directly behind me. Had to be somewhat of a good sign that they were still at their designated posts, right? I didn’t have time to consider it, though. Killing the engine, I flung myself out onto the pavement, slammed the door, and ran up the stairs to the second floor, two at a time. I rustled with my key ring and hastily jammed the winner into the keyhole, throwing the door open as soon as the locks clicked out of place.

  Manny, Hazel, and Maya sat in the living room, their heads snapping toward the sound of my entrance with a quickness.

  “What the hell happened?” I asked, completely out of breath after my adventurous trek across town.

  Kilo bound over to me as Hazel stood to her feet with a small piece of paper in her grasp and made her way over to me. With a shaky hand, she set the paper in mine and waited for me to grasp the gravity of the situation, bending down beside the German Shepherd, who was patiently waiting for me to greet him.

  You can run…

  But you can’t hide.

  Jesus fucking Christ.

  “He was in here?”

  Manny shook his head. “I suspect he knows we have eyes on the building, not to mention Kilo. Hazel found it in your mailbox when we came home from lunch with Reyna.”

  I stole a glance at my girl and she nodded, leaning into the dog for support, her fingers sifting through his thick coat.

  “How did he clear airport security?”

  “Private jet. Unregistered.”

  Of course. Should’ve seen that coming.

  “So, is this message directed at all of us?” I queried, staring at the neat handwriting once more.

  “No.” That was Maya, who was seated beside Manny. “That’s definitely meant for me. Think about his voicemail. He said he knew I was here. He’s telling me I can run, but he’ll eventually catch up.”

  “Like hell he will. I’ll rip his head off with my bare hands,” my girl uttered viciously.

  “Trust me,” Manny started, leaving his spot on the couch to stand beside the sliding glass door, “he’ll be swimming in a pool of his own blood before he gets anywhere near you two.”

  Yes. He. Would.

  “You think he’ll be stupid enough to try?”

  “Possibly, but he’ll definitely be waiting for some prime moment, keeping us on edge with sporadic points of contact as a way to build the suspense. He’s closing in…”

  “So, let’s run,” Maya inserted, instantly grabbing our attention. “My dad’s house, remember? It’s obviously not far but we can move there, throw him off. It’s not the house I grew up in either, so Dimitri won’t know where it is.”

  I glanced at Manny, who nodded, a pleasantly surprised expression etched on his face.

  “That’s actually a really good idea,” I said, and Hazel nodded beside me.

  “When should we leave?” she asked.

  “Right about now, I’d say,” Manny answered, pulling out his phone from the pocket of his slacks. “Pack light; one suitcase per each of you. Go.”

  Maya bolted from her spot on the couch, down the hallway, and Hazel followed suit, belting out she’d pack for me too. Kilo wasn’t far behind them either, wagging his tail playfully, because to him, this was a game. When I turned my attention to Manny once more, he was typing away on his phone, presumably to our tagalong buddies outside.

  “Alright,” he started as I dropped onto the couch, “we need to play this smart. So, with that being said, while we’re away, I’ll have these guys drop by at different times to turn the lights on and off. If Dimitri notices everything goes dark from one day to the next, it’ll give us away and he’ll start sniffing again. Hopefully this move will throw him off completely. We might even be able to catch him.”

  “You think running is the right thing to do?” I asked wearily.

  “I don’t know I’d call it the right thing, but it’s definitely smart. He won’t be expecting this at all.”

  Or would he....

  Either Dimitri had no plan whatsoever or the drawn-out silence between his points of contact were part of the plan. We couldn’t figure out what he was doing, if and when he was going to strike again, and what it would take to put an end to it. Another two weeks had rolled by since the note in the mailbox startle – bringing us halfway through October – and this Russian bastard was nowhere to be found. None of us had spotted him. Anywhere. Manny had even gone as far as asking every hotel within a fifty-mile radius if “this man” had checked in at any point within the last month, and each time, he came up empty-handed.

  Where the hell was this guy hiding? In the sewer? Had we thrown him off by actually running and hiding somewhere else?

  Ironic how he’d said we couldn’t hide, and yet here he was, doing the same thing.

  So, what if we lure him out? That’s what Maya had suggested. Naturally, Manny shot her down with a simple no, but his reasoning more than made sense. Men like Dimitri weren’t easily cajoled, and it was more than likely he’d know what we were up to if we tried. That could end very badly and there was no way Manny – or Knox, for that matter – would allow that. The only way to even possibly tempt him would be to use Maya, and although she’d made it clear she was up for the challenge if that meant we’d be free of him, even I wouldn’t let her do that. Point blank, this dude was crazy, and I could guarantee, g
iven his in-depth background check, this wasn’t his first rodeo. Waiting this shit storm out was really all the choice we had. The downside to waiting was the constant worry; fear at some points too. We were always looking out of the corner of our eyes, always watching our backs. It was really starting to take its toll, and all I wanted was for it to be over, preferably before my next fight.

  The fight that would make me or break me. If I lost this one, too, I could kiss my short-lived pro career goodbye.

  Talk about pressure.

  I’d worked so hard to get here and since arriving, I hadn’t really proven myself. My first fight was simply beginner’s luck, just as I’d told Reyna. It's what came after that would pave the way for this chapter in my career, and as of now, there wasn't much of a path. I didn't know what the hell was wrong with me. Explaining what happened when I stepped foot in the cage was difficult to explain. I just couldn't...focus. I knew what I was doing, I just couldn't fucking focus. Knox labeled it as stress. Everything that had knocked our world off its feet was piling up on my shoulders, and I was exhausted. There was no other way to put it.

  As a result, Knox had set a limit on my cage time. Three days a week was all I was allotted. He’d even cut out routine workouts, to ensure I wasn’t over-exhausting myself. No crazy hours were allowed either; half hour to warm up and a full hour of sparring. That’s it. Nothing less, nothing more. Of course, I didn’t care for this new method, wondering how the hell I was going to prepare to take down Nuñez on such a curbed regimen, but he was the coach, which meant he called the shots. So, I rolled with it because, at the end of the day, I trusted him.

  “Harder,” Knox demanded as I slammed my fist into one of the mitts.

  “That was harder,” I growled.

  “Not hard enough, kitten. Come on, bring it.”

  We’d been at it for almost an hour, and he’d been critiquing me – more like picking on me – through ninety percent of it. I'd about had enough. His snippy attitude since coming home from work was on my last nerve, mostly because I knew why he was acting this way. He didn't even have to tell me. I just knew. Woman's intuition again. Let's just say Brie Dawson wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. Despite my warning, she chose not to heed it. The woman would not fuck off, and I was a thread away from taking out every bit of anger, anxiety, and frustration on her.