CHAPTER TWELVE

*Kio “K.O.” - Enforcer*

Chaz dismisses all the dancers since technically the saloon still has a couple hours before opening. Lace gets brazen and pretends to blend into the mass and sneak out right along with them. When I split the exiting crowd to block her path, her nostrils flare, and she narrows an upward glare at me, her head tilted slightly down like an angry, antlered creature.

The aggressive imagery brings me back to a different time and place when I was younger, and a heaviness presses in on my chest. My hand darts forward, takes the bullish mirage by the bicep, and yanks her to the side.

She wrenches out of my grip and slams her palm against my chest, adding fuel to the fire of the triggering memory that is taking hold. “Do not touch me,” she hisses.

My vision goes black at the edges, obscuring the saloon and creating a hazy vignette around the defiant woman puffing out her chest. On the losing end of a battle against my embedded anger, I lurch forward. Instead of coming into contact with a soft neck, though, my palm strikes firm leather. The unexpected upshot is enough to make me retreat backward. I shake out the echo of my childhood, loosening my clenched fists and unzipping my jacket.

“Where is she, Kio?!” Lace screeches, pressing against the arm Kal is using to keep her away from me. I am not her only target, though. Next, she rounds on Vee who has finally gotten off the couch and is now part of the defensive circle surrounding us. “How about my dad? My mom? Huh, Vee?”

Kal blocks another of her attempts to get physical, but she falls to her knees and crawls far enough away from him to reach the closest pair of boots she can get to. “Where are the only people in this Universe who I fucking care about? What did you do to them?!”

Coty is the victim of her pleas this time. In an amazing show of discipline, he eases away from her outstretched hand while Chaz scoops her around the waist and hoists her flailing body upright. That single act of obedience taps Coty out, though; as soon as she is restrained, he spins around and leaves the building.

I hold up my hands in a placating gesture and give Kal a quick chin jerk, letting him know my anger is managed. For now. Kal steps aside, and I approach Lace. This will only get worse unless we feed her some information. Just a nibble should be enough. “Gabe was put in a holding cell overnight, so I took Jess home and made sure she was going to be okay. Rumor on the street is that he got out this morning. She is probably dealing with that.”

Lace sneers. “You ‘made sure she was going to be okay.’ Right. Sure. So you have no trouble helping Jess while her old man is away, but as soon as he comes back, you ghost? Defeats the purpose if you ask me. For as smart as you are, you are being awfully stupid with her.”

Would I have stayed with Jess longer if not for the emergency meeting our employer called? Hell yeah. But can I give Lace those details? No. For one, my retriggered anger has all the blood rerouting from my brain to my limbs. Second of all, it breaks policy; what happens in the devil dome, stays in the devil dome. The less Lace knows, the better.

“Let me go,” she demands, writhing against the restrictive hold Chaz has on her. Lace catches the silent approval Kal gives our treasurer, and she rolls her eyes.

Chaz lets her go, and she strides away in the same direction as Coty. When she is out of sight, the group of us resort to focused hearing, waiting on edge for either a creak or a whoosh, depending which door she goes through.

Coty may have managed to keep his distance from her with the backing of his brothers, but if she corners him in the office, it could go bad for both of them. Thankfully, that is not the case; the airy whoosh of the double dressing room doors echoes through the quiet building.

Our circle fractures, and I make a break for the back door to get some fresh air, only to be met with the stench emitting from the dumpsters nearby — a mix of fishy stale feminine products and potent fermenting pizza yeast.

I slide down the rough brick exterior and lean my head back before closing my eyes to start a deep breathing exercise. My attempt is no good; the foul odor stings my nasal passages and throat, and I end up hacking instead.

The substandard environment is enough to feed my negative self-talk just as proficiently as the sticky humidity is feeding the discarded spoiling pizza dough.

I failed. “Happy, Okasaan? You were right: I am a failure,” I cough out.

As an enforcer, it is literally my fucking position — my job — to make sure rules are followed and the right people are protected. Shit well and truly went sideways on my watch. What’s worse is that, little does everyone know, that shit is a lot stinkier than they reali—

“Lack of sleep is poisoning your mind.” My focus bolts upward. Groaning, Kal plops down beside me. “Plus, we already established that your mother was an irredeemable psychopath.”

I huff. “Doesn’t make her accusations any less wrong. All these years later, and every time I fuck up, I still hear her voice in my head.”

“Is that what happened in there with Lace?”

“Something like that.”

“You still good with chaperoning Coty here in about ten?” he asks next.

“Yeah.”

Like the scheming bastard he is, Kal uses my vulnerability to pull the conversation into a U-turn. “Anything I need to know about Jess?”

The underlying accusation in his tone hits hard, and I lash out defensively as I launch myself off the ground. “You interrogating me now?”

“Everyone is a suspect, Kio. You know that.”

“What do you want me to say? Am I fucking Jess? Is that what you want to know?” I shake my head.

Whether that head shake is a no to his question or a refusal to answer, I let him choose, deciding I much prefer the stale, smoky room and confining walls of the saloon over this putrid shit. On my entrance, I bump shoulders with Coty. Nothing more. Nothing less.

As the closing door separates me from him and Kal, the potentially incriminating evidence tucked safely away in the hidden pocket inside my riding boot makes each step feel like the drag when riding on a curvy road against strong headwinds.

I just need to ride low and keep everything in tight until the pressure lets up and the road is a bit straighter.