Better When He's Bold
Page 92

I sat down on the side of the bed and let out a relieved breath. “A fight about what?”
She made a hiccuping noise and my heart squeezed for her. She didn’t sound anything like the tough-as-nails girl I knew her to be.
“I told him he had to stop working with Race, that I wanted him out of all of it. Nassir’s club was burned to the ground last night. People died, Brysen. I don’t want to live every single day of my life wondering if he’s going to make it home. I can’t do it anymore. It’s killing me, worrying about him and Race all the time.”
Whoa, that was pretty heavy and I could totally understand why it hadn’t gone well. Bax didn’t seem like the kind of guy that took to ultimatums, even if he really did love Dovie.
“I’m sorry, Dovie. I’m sure when he has some time to think about it he’ll calm down and you guys can talk it over.”
She sniffled again. “I don’t know. He stormed out this morning and I haven’t seen him look that pissed since the night things went down with Novak.”
I swore under my breath and ran my hands through my supershort hair. I didn’t know what to say to her to make it better. As it turned out, all she wanted was a shoulder to cry on.
“Brysen, I can’t concentrate on classes right now and I don’t want to be at the house all alone. I know Race has you on lockdown, but can you tell me where you’re at so I can come over and we can talk?”
Of course I would never tell her no. Dovie was a great friend and she sounded so stressed out and sad that all I wanted to do was give her a hug.
“I don’t know the exact address. We’re on the docks, though, and the condo complex is pretty nice. I mean way nicer than you would expect for a place in the Point. It’s right across the street from some bar called the Rabbit Hole. We’re on the top floor.”
She made a strangled noise and I heard her gasp. She was behaving superweird and suddenly a tingle started to lift the newly shorn hair on the back of my neck. I trusted Dovie implicitly, but everyone and everything in my life had been out to harm me lately and I needed to remember that.
“Ummm . . . who is ‘we’ exactly?” She sounded like she had a frog in her throat.
“Karsen and the guy I affectionately call Gigantor. His name is Booker and he’s my unofficial babysitter until Race gets his hands on my stalker.”
She made another noise, and this time it sounded like she was in actual physical pain. I was really starting to worry about her.
“Are you okay, Dovie? You don’t sound very good.”
She coughed again. “I’m fine. Just freaking out is all. Hey, is the guy watching you armed by any chance?”
That was a pretty specific question, and the entire off tone of the conversation had me debating whether I should answer honestly or not. I decided to give a nonanswer instead. “I don’t know. Probably. He looks like a modern-day executioner or maybe a hit man. I’m pretty sure everyone Race associates with runs around armed. Your boyfriend included.”
Her voice changed a little when she told me, “Yeah, Bax carries a weapon and we’ve both been all over Race to start carrying too. Sometimes in the Point the only thing you can do is be ready for the worst.” She made another gasping noise and I got really worried. All my instincts were screaming at me that something was really wrong here, I just wasn’t sure what was going on or what I could do about it over the phone. “Brysen, I’ll be there in a few. Uh . . . be ready for me, okay?”
The phone went dead and I just stared at it for a long second. I got to my feet and suddenly bolted back toward the kitchen, which did nothing for my throbbing head.
“Who was that?” Karsen sounded alarmed and I realized I must look a little crazed as thoughts about how wrong and how off everything about that phone call felt started whirling and tumbling through my mind. The hair on my arms rose up and ice started to form in my veins.
“Dovie. She sounded really bizarre, though. She said she got into a big fight with Bax and needed to come over and talk about it.” I started frantically pacing back and forth as I shoved my hands through my hair, wincing as the motion pulled at my stitches. I played the conversation over in my head again trying to put my finger on why it didn’t sit right with me and decided all of it was just wrong.
At that moment Booker swore loud enough to rattle the walls and stalked over to where I was moving back and forth. I came to an abrupt halt as he put his hands on my shoulders and forced me to stop and look up at him.
“Did you tell her where you were at?”