He stumbled backwards but when he got his bearings, he stalked back towards me and got in my face.  “You should watch your fucking back, Blade.  Ricky’s got plans to take you out, asshole, and I can’t fucking wait to see that day.  He should have done it years ago after you kicked him out.”

The crunch of bone I heard when my fist connected with his face was the most satisfying sound I’d heard all day.  I backed it up with a couple more punches until Gary was sprawled on the grass, his face a bloody mess.  Standing over him, I growled, “Ricky can plan shit all he likes, but he doesn’t have the backing he’d need to take me out.  And you’re wrong about one other thing: I shouldn’t have let him walk away all those years ago.”

I stalked to the car before I allowed my inner demons out to finish him off.  He had no idea how close he’d come to death today.  Possibly the only thing holding me back was Layla.  Judging by her reaction to my blood-covered shirt when I slid into the seat next to her a moment later, she may not have cared.

Her gaze focused on my shirt.  “I see you sorted him out.”

I waited for her to shift her eyes to mine before answering.  “Yeah, I sorted him out.”

“Good,” she said, and reached for her belt, clipping it in.  “Now take me the hell home.  I don’t want to spend another fucking minute in this dump.”

I couldn’t agree with her more.

***

After I dropped Layla off back at her bar, I turned the car towards my mother’s house.  I wanted to check in on her, make sure she hadn’t caved and let Marcus back in.  On the drive there, I called Merrick.

“I want everything you can find about Layla Reed,” I said when he answered.

“I’m one step ahead of you.”

“You’ve got it already?” I asked, surprised he’d beaten me to it.

“Still gathering it, but yeah, almost done.”

“Anything interesting so far?”

“Her family is Reed’s Mining.”

“Fuck.”  She wasn’t kidding when she said she came from money.  Her family was at the top of the social ladder.  Everyone in Australia knew Reed’s Mining.

“She dropped out of the public eye when she was eighteen, though.  Cut all ties to her family and no one knows why.  It was all very hush-hush at the time, but what seems odd is that her cousin, Annie, also dropped out at the same time.”

“Where does Annie fit into all this?”

“Their fathers are brothers.  They inherited the company together from their father.”

“Something happened that concerned both of them, yeah?”

“That’s my guess.  It must have been bad, because Layla walked away from it all, both the family and the money.  You ever hear of someone walking away from that kind of money?”

No one walked away from millions unless they had a damn good reason.

“Never.”

“I’ll keep digging, see what we can come up with,” he promised.

“How the hell did you know I’d want this information?”

“Blade, you’ve been frequenting her bar for over a year, and now you’ve involved yourself with her problems, putting yourself out for her.  You need me to go on?”

Fucker knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.

“No,” I snapped.

“Where are you going now?”

“I’m gonna check in with my mother and then head over to see Madison.  Call me if you need me or have anything else to report about Layla.”

“Will do,” he said, and we ended the call.

The more I learnt about Layla, the more I wanted to get to know her and spend time with her.  At the same time, it confused the fuck out of me.  Ashley still haunted me, and I knew in my gut I hadn’t dealt with that fully yet. To even consider opening up to someone new was madness.

Chapter Seven

Layla

Midnight.

Friday night.

I stood at the bar and surveyed the room.

Where the fuck was all our customers?

“You want a drink, boss?”

I turned to Jess.  She held vodka in her hand: my usual drink.  Not tonight, I decided.  Tonight was a tequila night.  I shook my head and pointed at the tequila.  “Pour me a shot of that.  And you’re having one with me.  Damian can run the bar by himself with the amount of fucking people in here tonight.”

She grinned.  “Hell, yeah.”  She swapped the vodka for tequila and poured two shots.

After she passed me one, she raised her shot.  “To good friends and good men.”

I raised my shot as well, and we drank them down together.  When I was done, I lined my shot glass up for another and asked, “What’s with that toast?  Good men?”

She poured more drinks and explained, “You need to get laid, and it’s been over a week since your man has been in here.  Now, I’m not sure what happened there, so I’m toasting to good men in the hopes that either he comes back or someone else walks in.”

I didn’t wait for her this time; I threw the shot back, placed the glass on the bar and slid it her way for more.  Eyeing her, I said, “Nothing happened with him, that’s the weird thing.  He was all about helping me, and then he just disappeared.”

She shrugged and poured more drinks.  “So odd.  I would have bet money he was gonna make a move on you.”