Promises Part 1 (Bounty Hunters #1)(48)
Duke chewed a few pieces of lettuce, his stomach rebelling at the little bit of food he was able to take in while listening to his buddies go over both the bail bond and PI businesses’ latest cases. One in particular had Duke sweating; images of baseball bats and boards being slammed down on his body repeatedly forced their way to his mind.
Quick’s hand was on his shoulder bringing him back to reality. “Duke. You need to go after this guy.”
“Gotta get back on the horse, buddy,” Judge added.
“Don’t give me those bullshit clichés, Judge,” Duke gritted out. He knew how PTSD worked for the most part. He was terrified to go after another bounty. He’d almost died the last time. Was at death’s door with one foot over the threshold before god answered his prayer and sent an angel to save him. Now his friends were sitting there trying to convince him that he needed to go after the same guy that had beat the shit out of him and left him for dead.
“He’s suspected to have killed again, Duke.”
“I thought you said he was already in jail,” Duke barked at Quick.
“I thought wrong.”
Duke ran his hand through his still-sweaty hair. Which was odd since Quick had the AC pumping harder than in a restaurant kitchen. He was scared. Fuck me. “I need time to think, guys.” Duke stood up, leaving his partially eaten sandwich and salad.
“Duke. You still have a few weeks of recovery, man. No one’s saying go out there tonight. I can put my guys on surveillance, tap phone lines, and interview this bastard’s acquaintances. I mean, the whole nine yards. It’ll be a clean recovery. Put this piece of shit back in jail where he belongs. And you can show every fuckin’ one out there that you’re still the baddest bounty hunter on the East Coast. Imagine suffering an injury like you did, and then practically coming back from the dead and taking this asshole out. You’re back to being the motherfuckin’ man.” Judge tried to assure him and it was working. Judge always knew how to give a damn pep talk.
Duke’s mouth turned up in a sinister grin. In his mind, Duke knew what Judge and Quick were doing was right. It’s the same thing he’d do if one of his guys had been severely injured. He’d try to help them recover physically and then get back on the job so the fear didn’t take root and consume them. It was something he had to do. He wasn’t ready to retire and he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. He needed to put his star back on as soon as possible and get back out there.
“How’s Dana? I haven’t heard from him since I left the hospital.” Duke looked back and forth between his two guys.
Judge sported his usual poker face, making it obvious he was hiding something. But Quick. He was never a good bluffer. His sharp green eyes communicated any and every emotion he was feeling. And at that moment his expression contained a mixture of exhaustion, regret, and apology.
“Spit it out, Roman,” Duke demanded.
“It’s nothing we need to discuss right now,” Quick told him hastily, standing and clearing their lunch dishes. “You barely ate, Duke. You gotta keep up your strength, pal. Vaughan will have my ass in a sling if I don’t ensure you eat.”
Duke didn’t speak as Quick hustled around him. When his friend moved to pick up his salad plate, Duke’s hand darted out and grabbed his wrist; the abrupt move forcing Quick to finally look him in the eye. “Does it look like I need you to spare my feelings right now or make sure I eat all my food like a good little boy? I had a mother; I don’t need her replaced. I want to know what’s going on with my guy and I want to know now. Because if I find out something is wrong, you’ll pay first, Rome. I found out about the surgery you tried to hide, I’ll find out whatever it is you’re trying to keep from me now, too. Only this time I won’t let you off the hook so easily.”
Judge’s hearty laughter broke their tense stare off. “Fuckin’ Duke, man.”
Quick shot Judge an evil look, prying his wrist out of Duke’s grip and dropping into the recliner next to him. “First of all. Dana is healing fine. He’s just… he doesn’t.”
“Quick,” Duke growled.
“Just tell him already,” Judge urged.
“He’s still feeling responsible for your injury. He was one that did the surveillance and he was the one I was helping, the reason I couldn’t get upstairs to help you, so—”
“God, that is such bullshit! Why would he think that?” Duke fussed, his anger rising quickly. If all his friends thought him such a badass, then why were they treating him like a little bitch? All the ducking and dodging, and lying to so-called protect him was driving him insane “Get Dana on the phone. Yesterday!”
Quick reluctantly but hurriedly pulled out his cell phone and hit a couple buttons.
“No more secrets. I mean it. No fucking more,” Duke declared.
Judge and Quick both nodded once, then his friend was handing him the phone: already on speaker. Duke didn’t wait for Dana to say a word. His conversation was fast and to the point, like Dana was used to.
“Hey, man. You feeling alright?”
“Um. Sure,” Dana claimed hesitantly, obviously shocked at hearing his boss’s voice from Quick’s phone.
“Good. Get your ass over here for a mandatory meeting now. I’m at Quick’s.” Then hung up. Duke would set Dana straight and hopefully they could all go back to their lives.