“If you want to keep the bitch alive, you’re going to have to. Because it’s a fact, Carver will come looking for her. If we can work in harmony, then hey, I’ll drop you a line when I hear word of the plan. After that . . .” He shrugged. “It’ll be up to you if you wanna play her white knight.”
There was a plan. Jesus. “I’m listening.”
“I want Carver and the woman out of my hair. When he comes after her, you can catch him in the act and put him away for good.”
“Not a problem.” Anyone planning to hurt Gaby made his shit list real quick. “Anything else?”
“Yeah. You’ll get the woman off my corner for good.”
Luther asked, “What does it matter to you if she’s here or not?”
“She interferes with business and gives the whores uppity ideas. Right now, she’s only an annoyance, nothing more. I want her gone before she really starts to piss me off. Deal?”
Taking the time to breathe deep and long, Luther looked up at the sky, breathed in the humid night air and released it slowly. When he knew he could speak without ripping off Jimbo’s head, he faced him.
At six three and two hundred pounds, Luther was bigger than many men. His weight was all muscle; he stayed in shape and kept up with his defense training.
Against him, a jerk-off like Jimbo didn’t stand a chance.
The urge to destroy the psychopathic little cretin trickled ice through Luther’s veins, but he was a man of law, not a vigilante—and not a one-man defense for Gaby Cody’s twisted lifestyle.
The lecture of reason helped Luther to rein in the urge for destruction—but it didn’t stop him from planting a single vicious punch to Jimbo’s solar plexus.
As the smaller man doubled over, wheezing and heaving, Luther caught the front of his shirt and turned to slam him into the wall of the building. “Do I have your attention, Jimbo?”
When Jimbo only coughed and choked, Luther rattled him. “You miserable little bully, suck it up and listen to me.”
“Yeah, man,” Jimbo gasped. “Yeah. I hear ya.”
“I’ll gladly take care of Carver. In return, there better not be a single hair on Gaby’s head disturbed. If anyone touches her, if you let
Arms folded around himself, Jimbo turned his head to the side and puked. Luther released him with alacrity. “Fuck.” Stepping back out of range, Luther fulminated against the injustice of abuse. “For a man who likes to threaten women, you sure can’t take a punch yourself.”
Jimbo dropped to his knees. He gagged again, but kept down the putrid remains of his gut. After a couple of seconds, he wiped a sleeve over his mouth, spat, and swallowed. “You didn’t need to do that.”
“No, probably not. But I wanted to.” Catching him by the shoulder, Luther pulled him back to his feet. “Now tell me about Carver and why he’d want to hurt Gaby.”
Jimbo nodded a little too quickly.
“Lie to me, and that last blow will seem like a lover’s tap.” Even as Luther hated himself for indulging a bully’s mentality, he gave a grim promise: “I’ll be sure to break no less than three ribs. Believe it, Jimbo.”
Shrugging off Luther’s hold, Jimbo said, “Yeah, got it, dude. Just give me a second.”
Checking his watch, Luther saw that Gaby should have reached Mort already. How long she’d remain there, he couldn’t guess. Her less favorable qualities included unpredictability.
Why he felt so drawn to her, Luther couldn’t say. But he’d laid eyes on her, and it had all been downhill since. There was some ethereal, elusive quality to Gaby that had him in a stranglehold. “I’m about out of time. Spit it out.”
Jimbo wiped his mouth again, looked around to ensure they hadn’t drawn notice, and stared up at Luther. “One of Carver’s whores gave him some lip, and he smacked her around some.”
“Gaby saw this?”
“Yeah.” Grinding pain strangled Jimbo’s laugh. “That psycho cunt didn’t like it one bit, I can tell you that. But she kept her trap shut, so Carver ignored her.”
Lingering on the periphery of an insane rage, Luther whispered, “You are dumber than you look, Jimbo, do you know that?”
“What? It’s the truth, I swear.”
Shaking his head, as much at himself and his absurd code of chivalry as Jimbo’s obtuse sense of propriety, Luther said, “Call her one more name, make one more slur, and I’ll—”
“God damn it, man, I can’t think with you threatening me!”
Luther fought for control. “Carver hurt the girl?”
“Broke her jaw, I think. It wasn’t real bad. I’ve seen worse beatings.”
“I take it you didn’t offer to help her?”
“Hell no, man. You don’t get between that shit. And I figured my girls could learn some from it, ya know? But sometime later that night, Carver was attacked.”
“By whom?”
Jimbo shook his head. “Carver ain’t sayin’, and the whore he was with didn’t see nothin’ before he kicked her out of his bed. Word on the street is that Carver was lying there, taking a snooze after a good plow, and
“Boom?”
Jimbo shrugged. “His girls found him tied to the bed, sliced up all over. Not deep cuts, but a pool of his own blood had soaked into the mattress. His face, his body, hell, even his dick was worked over.” As Jimbo spoke, an oily, nervous sweat showed on his brow. “That was some fucked-up shit, man.”
Luther had a hard time containing himself. He knew it was Gaby, had heard her practically admit as much. “He’s lucky that whoever it was didn’t kill him.”
Digging out a smoke, Jimbo said, “Lucky hell. It was a damn threat to everyone. I ain’t seen him, but I hear that Carver is still shook up. He’s lying low until he gets healed, and then he’ll want revenge.”
Against Gaby.
Grit scratched at Luther’s tired eyes and acid burned his stomach. Hoping for a convincing bluff, Luther asked, “What’s this have to do with Gabrielle Cody?”
Jimbo moved a few cautious steps away from Luther. “I don’t know what it is, but that girl has everyone spooked. She goes around like a fucking ghost, unafraid, silent in that damned eerie way of hers, and everyone assumes she had something to do with Carver’s attack. Some think she put a hex, or some shit, on him, and others think she hired someone to cut him up. All I know is, if you care about her, you ought to get her away from here before Carver does a number on her.”
If Luther tried to take Gaby away, what would she do? For certain she’d fight him. Independence was the strong-hold of her nature. “I told you what would happen to you, Jimbo, if anyone hurts her.”
“Hell, man, I’m leaving psycho chick alone.” With trembling hands, he lit the cigarette and sucked hard, making the tip glow hot. He relaxed on the tangible effects of smoke filling his lungs, nicotine polluting his system. “Look, cop, the woman . . . Gaby—”
“No,” Luther warned. “Don’t say her name. I like hearing it from your mouth even less than the insults.”
“What the fuck, man!” Jimbo exploded. “Do you want to hear this or not?”
“Finish.”
“She—
A group of thugs came around the corner. They were still too far away to see much when Jimbo threw down the cigarette. “That’s my posse. I gotta split.”
Luther pulled out a business card and held it out to him. “Don’t forget what I said, Jimbo. If you hear anything at all about Carver, I want to know.”
“Yeah, right.” He snatched the card and slid it into his pocket. “If you want to check her room, it’s all the way at the top, in the attic.”
That prickly animosity resurfaced. “How is it you know that?”
“Fuck no, man, don’t make wrong assumptions. The bitches knock on her door sometimes, but I keep my
