Inside (Bulletproof 1)

“There’s no need for all three of us to go to Crescent City,” Shady said. “Someone’s gotta take care of things around here. And we still have to find Pretty Boy. He’ll probably come to L.A.”

Stretching out his long legs, Horse crossed them at the ankle. “So you want me to stay?”

“Yeah. Find him while we’re gone.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“When do we leave?” Meeks asked Shady.

Slamming his empty glass onto the table, Shady scooped up the keys to his truck. “What’s wrong with tonight? We play our cards right, we can get there before visiting hours tomorrow afternoon.”

Meeks heaved himself to his feet. “Who we gonna see?”

“Detric Whitehead,” Shady replied. “Like I said.”

When Peyton spotted Rick’s car in her drive, she felt her temper rise. This time she was going to tell him, in no uncertain terms, that he had to go. She didn’t care what it meant for her job. No boss had the right to do what he was doing. She’d sue him for sexual harassment, if necessary.

But before she could reach the deck and confront him, he hurried down the steps and brushed past her with a comment about having to get home.

“You’re leaving for Sacramento?” She shaded her face from the rain. “This late?”

Ducking his head, he unlocked his car and tossed his briefcase inside. “Yeah, listen, I waited around for a bit, hoping to talk to you. I know I’ve been acting like an ass lately. And I’m sorry. Truly. We’ll have a conversation on the phone tomorrow. I just remembered that…there’s something I’ve got to do.”

“No problem.” She was so eager to have him gone she didn’t question his rush—until after he’d driven off. Then she wondered what he’d been doing for the past four hours. She knew he’d left the prison shortly after the warden because that was what the C.O. at the guard shack had told her. She’d thought he’d already left town, as well; that was why it had come as such a surprise to find him at her house. But if he wanted to drive back to Sacramento, why didn’t he get an earlier start?

She had no idea, but she didn’t really care.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief at finally having her house to herself, she ran up the stairs to let herself in. She’d grabbed a bite to eat on the way home. Now she craved a nice long shower and a good night’s sleep. She wasn’t sure she could manage the sleep part—she was on edge, worried about Virgil and probably would be the whole time he was inside—but she knew she had to try.

Her cell phone buzzed on the bathroom counter while she was standing beneath the hot spray. Normally, she would’ve ignored it, returned the call once she got out. But it was late for a sales call or anything like that, and the memory of Virgil using a contraband cell phone had her getting out dripping wet.

Sure enough, this call was from the same number.

“Hello?” she said, breathless with hope and anticipation.

No one answered.

“Hello?” she said again.

“Who is this?” a voice responded.

Buzz! Her heart nearly seized in her chest. Fear urged her to hang up, but she couldn’t. That wouldn’t be doing Virgil any favors. Getting back in the shower with the water running, she closed the door so the noise and echo would help camouflage her voice and pretended to be someone much coarser and bolder. “Who’s this?” she snapped back.

Her answer got no response, but Buzz was still listening. She could sense him on the other end of the line.

“Where’s Simeon?” she asked.

“Sleeping,” Buzz said, and then he was gone.

Peyton stood shaking in the shower long after Buzz hung up. Had he fallen for her act? Or had he recognized her voice?

What was he going to do?

Rex had no answers. He’d returned to Los Angeles because that was the only city he could call home, but he couldn’t go to any of the houses or bars that were familiar to him. The Crew owned or frequented those places, and he knew what would happen if he showed his face. No doubt they’d already put out an order to shoot him on sight.

He did have one thing going for him. He hated his family and everyone knew it, so it was unlikely that gang members would threaten them. Virgil was his only family, really, and The Crew had been after Virgil before Rex defected. What he’d done wasn’t going to affect anything.

Maybe it was time to go legit, he mused. Should he try to change his life? He’d flirted with that idea for years, wished he could figure out how. That had to be what Virgil was doing. But Virgil had the advantage of a clean slate. Rex did not. Beyond that, he had no way to make a legal living. He was driving a stolen car. He’d just killed two men from his own gang. And he was probably wanted as an accomplice in the marshal’s death in Gunnison, as well as the Eddie Glover shooting—thanks to Ink. From what he could see, he didn’t have a chance of cleaning up.

Which was why, once it grew late, he found himself driving past the illegal club Horse operated at Sixtieth and Vermont. It wasn’t the drugs, prostitutes, slot machines or illegal firearms that attracted him. It was the sheer familiarity of the turf. He’d felt so alone since Gunnison, so adrift. And that made him just a little reckless. He kept thinking about walking into Horse’s club, confronting him and anyone else who was there. He knew he wouldn’t make it out alive. Everyone inside would be packing heat. But at least he’d go down like a man. Maybe he’d open fire, take a few of those bastards with him. He sure as hell didn’t want to run for the rest of his life….

He was sitting at the curb across the street, letting the engine of the stolen Sentra idle while he wondered who might be inside and whether or not he had the balls to do what he’d been contemplating, when a Honda Civic pulled up and Shady’s girlfriend stumbled out. Rex recognized Mona instantly. He’d always felt sorry for her. Shady kicked her around, passed her off to his friends, called her the most terrible names.

The driver of the Honda didn’t seem to realize he was there. He was too busy screaming that Mona better not have given him herpes or he’d come back and take his twenty bucks out of her hide. Then he tossed her panties out on the street, along with her money, and sped off.

Teetering on high heels, she tried to collect the cash but fell over when she reached down and didn’t get up. She sat in the middle of the road, her tight skirt too short to hide her bare ass, staring up at the black sky as if she wished it would swallow her. And then she started to cry.