Smoke and Steel (Wild West MC #2)(32)

“Yo,” he greeted.

“I think you need to be here, considering a carload of bitches just showed. One got out and stabbed one of her own tires with a knife. The other one walked up to the house where the Greeks are staying. And the one who walked up to the house is yours.”

Core fought the buzzing in his head because he knew “yours” meant Hellen.

“Fuck,” Eight bit out. “I think I saw another one jump the fence at the back. Gotta go.”

Eight disconnected.

Core looked down at Nanook, his malamute.

He was salivating and staring at the counter.

“Let’s go,” Core said.

Nanook barked and Core left the steak on the counter as he prowled out to his truck.

He opened the driver’s side door, Nanook jumped in, then sat on Core’s passenger seat panting as Core swung in, started up the truck and took off.

He opened Nanook’s window.

Nanook stuck his head out and smiled.

Core was not smiling.

Halfway to the house, he got a text.

He glanced at it.

It was an address from Eight.

Stopped at a light, Core loaded it into his satnav.

When he arrived at the Walgreens parking lot, Eight was standing outside his truck with three women, one was Marcy, another one was one of the women he saw at Fortnum’s.

The last one was Hellen in a pleated pink skirt, a white blouse, and shiny beige pumps with very high stiletto heels.

Red encroached at the sides of his vision.

He parked, grunted, “Stay,” and Nanook woofed. He threw open his door, got out and stalked to the huddle.

“Core—” Hellen tried.

She was safe.

All was good.

Even so.

He got in her face and roared, “What did I say?”

She shut her mouth and began to look pissed.

“These guys are not good guys, Hellen,” he reminded her.

“Let me—”

“We have no idea how big this is. We have no idea the men we’re dealing with. We have no idea the lengths they’ll go to protect their scam. What the fuck were you doing?”

“Taking a friend’s back,” she returned, cool as a cucumber.

“In four-inch heels?” he demanded.

She now appeared uncomfortable. “I will admit, my shoes could have been a hindrance. But I didn’t have time to change them. Things were underway.”

“What fucking things?” he ground out.

“It was my fault,” the new girl said.

He turned to her.

She quailed.

“Speak,” he grunted.

“Well, uh…”

That was all she could get out.

“So,” Marcy took over, “in The Tinder Swindler, one of the chicks he swindled took a load of his stuff and sold it on eBay in order to pay back some of the debt she got into because of him. It pissed him off. Like, deep-end ticked. But there was nothing he could do. The swindler got swindled. Christos decks out in labels. Bree decided she wanted to look for her necklace, and while she was in their house, grab some of his stuff she could sell to get back her money. Obviously, for her to go in, we had to get the other guys out.”

It wasn’t a bad idea, and it was fucking moronic.

Core turned his attention to Eight.

“I pretended I was her old man,” he explained to Core’s unspoken question, jerking a thumb to Marcy. “When they came out, told the dudes the women called me before they went to the house, but I wasn’t able to get there quick, so they were looking for someone to help. But I finally showed to change the tire. Then I stuck the spare with my blade, told the guys they’d lured out of the house we’d have to come back to fix the flat, rounded those two up, shoved them in my truck and they texted the other one. We swung around to get her and now we’re here.”

“I don’t know why you didn’t just change the tire,” Marcy noted.

“Because if he did, he couldn’t haul all your asses here so I could fucking lay you out,” Core bit off. “Marcy? You? Seriously? What the absolute fuck?”

She did a head-tilt shrug. “I tried, bro. There was no talking her down.”

He turned to the new girl. “So you fall for some guy’s line, he takes you for a ride, your friends look after you, and you pay them back by dragging them deeper into your shit?”

Her eyes grew huge, and her face got red. Marcy sucked in her lips, but Core wasn’t sure that wasn’t to hide a smile.

Hellen shifted closer to him and murmured, “Core.”

He looked down at her.

She was so close he could smell her perfume. He didn’t know what it was, he just knew he liked it.

Fuck.

Him.

“No, baby,” he growled. “You, all of you, could have been jacked up because of this chick’s choices. I’m not gonna keep my mouth shut so I won’t hurt her feelings. She’s gotta start thinking.”

“Can we talk privately?” she requested.

He wanted to talk very privately with her.

He wanted to take her to his house, bend her over his knee, throw up that pretty skirt of hers, and spank her until she couldn’t sit for a week without remembering his hand smacking her ass.

Then he’d fuck some sense into her.