54
***Ryan***
“ S he doesn’t live here.” Luke stood with his fists on his hips, staring up at the rundown apartment building that Maggie lived in. “No fucking way.”
I agreed with his sentiment. The building was old and in need of a desperate repair but the most concerning thing was that the neighborhood it was in was the worst one in the city. It was Beverly Hills compared to some places I’d seen in my travels but it wasn’t acceptable for Maggie to live in, all on her own.
There were three men leaning against the hood of a Mustang watching us as we stood there and none of them looked like men I would be comfortable with going near a single woman, much less the woman I loved.
Jackson turned to face them and his scowl darkened. “You three live here?”
“Who’s asking?” I was guessing the guy who stepped forward considered himself their leader. He spit on the ground between himself and Jackson before pulling out a cigarette.
He’d chosen the wrong month to poke Jackson. “Who the fuck do you think is asking? Me, asshole. The man with the words coming out of his mouth. Now, do you live here or not?”
Luke sighed. “Here we go.”
“Watch how you’re talking to me, fucker. You don’t know who I am or you’d-” While talking he pulled up his shirt and flashed a gun that was shoved into his pants.
Jackson didn’t hesitate to grab the guy up by the throat in one hand and snatch the gun away from him with the other. “I don’t give a fuck who you are, what you think you’re doing hanging out here in the middle of the day, or why you have a gun. I need to know something about someone who lives here. Are you going to tell me or do I need to throw you through your fucking windshield?”
The two guys behind the guy in Jackson’s grasp reached for what I was sure were more guns but the sound of a gun cocking behind them froze them in their tracks.
“Gregor suggests you stand still.” Gregor was a ghost when he wanted to be and appearing out of thin air with a gun in each hand wasn’t even all that surprising for him.
“Well, this is going well.” I moved forward and calmly took the guns from the pants of the two idiots shaking in their boots. Part of the defensive training I’d done to prepare for some of the more haunting places I’d gone meant that I could break their guns down into pieces in less than thirty seconds. I left the parts, minus the clips on the hood of the Mustang. “Alright, now that that’s out of the way. If we could deescalate this so you can answer some questions for us, that’d be great.”
Luke patted Jackson’s shoulder. “Alright, Jack. Let him go.”
Jackson did and while the guy struggled to catch his breath and right his clothing, I stepped forward again. “We’re looking for a woman who lives here. Maggie Lately.”
The leader frowned. “I don’t know any chick named Maggie.”
One of the others spoke up. “No, man, Maggie. The chick with the banging ass. Red hair? Real pretty.”
“Oh, shit. That’s her name?” The leader seemed to sense Jackson’s growing rage. “Um, yeah. We know her. She’s real nice. Lives up on the third floor.”
“She home? She’s not answering the call button.” I balled my hands into fists at the idea of the three of them ogling Maggie.
“Nah, man. She’s hardly been home lately. Why are you looking for her?” Glancing back at Gregor, the leader shuddered. “She in some kind of trouble? We could help you grab her for the right price.”
Gregor fired his gun into the Mustang’s engine, his face a mask of fury as he reacted faster than we could. “You threaten Maggie?”
“What the fuck, man?! That’s my car!”
Luke held up his hand to Gregor and stepped forward. “If you ever lay a finger on her, we’ll come back and we’ll take you and your car apart piece by piece. Do you understand me?”
They all nodded, eyes wide.
Luke grabbed the leader’s face and gripped it hard. “Say it. Say you fucking understand me.”
“Alright! We understand! We understand you.” The leader stumbled when Luke let him go and yanked his jacket back into place. “Fucking lunatics!”
I shrugged. “When the occasion calls for it.”
Once we were back in the SUV with a very angry Gregor driving us away, Luke let out a string of curses that would’ve titillated the best sailor. “She’s not going back there.”
“Not a chance in hell.” Jackson agreed.
“Gregor take care of them?” The silent question showed just how overqualified Gregor was to be a private chef for Luke. He was a teddy bear who’d probably taken out more bad guys than the entire NYPD. Not exactly in legal ways, either.
“No.” Luke growled. “Just…no.”
“Gregor take them out, no problem ”
“No, Gregor. Maggie is never going back there. They’ll never have a chance to look at her again.” Luke scrubbed his hands down his face. “We’d better hope and fucking pray that she gives us another chance after the shitshow we just put on. If she tells us no, we’re going to have to explain to her why she has to move.”
“Fine. Gregor make them move to new state? ”
I shot a dark look at Luke. “Are you going to do something about that?”
Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think I’m going to have a stroke if we don’t find her soon.”
“If she’s not at home, she’ll be with her mom.” Jackson closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the seat. “We’re all going to need therapy after this shit. Including Mr. Take Them Out in the driver’s seat.”
Gregor grunted. “Gregor fine. .”