I looked at Elle as I answered, “What’s going on?”

“We got a problem. I need you to get to Tulane Medical Center ASAP.”

I went deadly calm and still. “What the fuck the happened?”

“Damien caught a drive-by bullet. Not fatal, but not good. I’m two hours away, but heading back.”

“I’ll be there in ten,” I replied, already turning for the door.

“There’s more,” Con said. “They’re saying it was Cantrell’s older brother. He’s one of Rix’s guys. We got a powder keg, and the boys are choosing sides.”

“Fuck me. I’ll be there in five.”

Waiting was endless. I didn’t know nearly enough about the boys from the gym to put a face on the one who was right now lying in the hospital, but I did know that a bullet from a drive-by was all-too-often fatal. Apparently Con had said it wasn’t, but still … who knew with a gunshot wound, right?

I had nothing to distract me from thinking about it, and an untamed imagination was a dangerous thing.

In Lord’s hurry to leave, he’d tried to talk me into going back to his place, but Mathieu and I had convinced him I was safer here. So I helped customer after customer as they came in to the store. Luckily, no Rix—and my mother didn’t make another appearance either. Mathieu never left my side.

“So what’s your story, kid?” I asked as the door shut behind the last customer. As much as I’d worked with him, we really hadn’t chatted much. He was an odd duck. Loud and mouthy around Lord, but quiet and reserved around me.

“Don’t have much of a story. At least not one worth talkin’ ’bout.”

“Come on, everyone’s got a story.”

He grunted, and I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to interpret that. “My mom was a crack addict, so Gran raised me. She died when I was twelve, and I ended up in shit foster home after shit foster home. Ran when I was sixteen. Started stealing so I could eat. That’s how I met Lord. I’d been getting by, but I needed bigger shit. So I tried to rip off a guitar. He gave me a choice—cops or work. I ain’t stupid, despite the fact that I was stealing. So I picked work. Lived with him for a while before I started rentin’ a place across the street. Would definitely be dead or in prison if he hadn’t helped me out. Owe him everything. He’s the only family I got. We take care of each other.”

Wow. The matter-of-fact recital hit me like darts to the heart—especially because it was so close to Lord’s story. No wonder he’d taken the kid in and given him a choice and a place to live. Lord probably identified with everything Mathieu had been through.

The boy turned and left the main section of the shop before I could think up an appropriate response, and the click of the office door shutting followed.

I guess that meant I’d be hanging out by myself this afternoon…

The door chimed, and I looked up.

Rix.

Of course. His timing was—as ever—impeccable.

“The cop been here?”

He didn’t have to elaborate for me to know exactly what he was talking about.

“Yeah. He was here. But I don’t think Lord will be pleased that you’re here.”

Something I wasn’t even sure could be called a smile crossed his face. “You’re the only woman I’ve met who has no problem giving me lip. Most won’t even look me in the eye.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a scary motherfucker, you wouldn’t have such a hard time getting a lady.”

His mouth curved into a more definite imitation of a smile, and he shook his head. “Lord still claiming you?”

I straightened, throwing my shoulders back and chin up. Rix’s gaze dropped to my chest. Oops. Didn’t mean to call attention to the boobs.

“Eyes up here, man,” I snapped.

His narrowed. “Tell me you’re ready for a real man, and I promise I’ll tame that sassy mouth of yours.”

“I’ve got a real man, thanks. One who actually appreciates my sassy mouth.”

“You tempt the fuck out of me, woman. If I didn’t know he’d take my head, I’d take you home.”

The take my head comment was a little unnerving, but I supposed it made me feel better to know that Rix wasn’t a threat to me because he did fear Lord’s retaliation. Jesus, this law of the streets thing was really freaking confusing.

The smile faded from his face. “What’d the cop say?”

“Not much.”

“Your man going downtown to answer questions?”

I really didn’t feel like it was my place to offer up details. Whatever Lord was or wasn’t doing was his business.

“I don’t know.” The answer was arguably honest, because I really didn’t know.

Rix leaned over the counter, and his voice dropped to low and dangerous levels. “I can tell you this—when I figure out who did in my boy, shit will get bloody.”

A cold shiver snaked down my spine. “That’s not something you should be telling me, just FYI.” I fought hard to keep my voice from shaking, and I succeeded … mostly. “Besides, I hear your boys are out spraying bullets around innocent kids. Like the one in the hospital right now.”

Rix’s expression darkened. “The fuck you talking about?”

Uh oh. Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut.

“That’s a serious fucking accusation. You better have some back up for it.”

I became acutely aware of how empty my hands were and how far away I was from any kind of protection. I needed to acquire a filter so I wouldn’t get myself into these kinds of situations. This wasn’t my issue. Why did I decide to make it my issue?

I had to say something. His crazy silver eyes were boring holes in me. “Uhh … Lord’s at the ER with one of his boxing kids. They said he caught a bullet in a drive-by. One that some other kid’s brother was a part of. And maybe he was one of your guys?”

“Give me a fucking name.”

I swallowed, feeling like I’d be signing someone’s death warrant if I gave him a name.

“I don’t know anything else.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not just giving you a name. I don’t know what you’ll—”

“That’s right. You don’t fucking know what I’ll do.” His eyebrows angled into furious slashes. “Give me a fucking name.”