Go Hard: A Bad Boy Sports Romance(52)

She nearly jumped out of her skin when I appeared.

“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s me.” I pulled the mask from my face.

“Travis.” She ran to me and stopped herself a foot or so away. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m so sorry. I just, I panicked when I heard the gunshot. I was worried.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You did the right thing. You did great, Hartley.”

She bit her lip. “Did you see something?”

“They have it,” I said. “It’s on their property.” I walked around her and unlocked the door. “Come on. We’ll talk as we drive.”

We got into the car and I started the engine. I pulled out onto the highway, heading back toward town.

We’d gotten away with it, more or less. The Caldwells were going to be paranoid after this, but at least I was able to confirm that the shipment was real.

Still, it only brought up more problems. They might move everything, which was the worst-case scenario. Also, there was a lot of stuff to transport, and I didn’t think we could do this on our own.

Hartley looked at me nervously. “What’s wrong? You look angry.”

“What? No. I’m not angry. Just trying to reason this out.”

“Tell me what you saw.”

“Big barn full of weed and crates. I didn’t see what was in the crates, but my guess is guns and ammunition.”

“That’s good. So they have it.”

“Right. But they might move it now. Also, it’s just too much stuff for us to move on our own.”

She frowned. “What are we going to do?”

“Right now we’re going back to your place. We’ll sleep and then we’ll work this out.”

She nodded and looked out the window. Poor girl was probably fucking terrified, but I couldn’t do anything about that. She’d come to grips with it and move on. She was strong.

But I had to make a plan. Otherwise, we were going to be screwed. The mafia meant business, and so did I.

My head buzzed with possibilities as we drove.





13





Hartley





I woke up with a start, sweating. In my nightmare, I had been lighting off fireworks all over this huge field while Travis ran around, trying not to get blown up. Just as the dream ended, Travis stepped on one of the fireworks, and he disappeared into a red mist of blood.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Last night had been insane, absolutely crazy. As soon as I heard that gun go off, I knew something had gone wrong. In my mind, Travis was dead on the ground somewhere. I freaked out and lit the fuses and then ran like hell back to the car.

The explosions had nearly knocked me flat on my face. I had stumbled and my ears had rung like crazy as I managed to get back to the car. While I waited for him, I’d heard the ATVs riding around in the distance and the sounds of shouting.

I’d been worried he wouldn’t show up, but he did. He materialized from the tree line wearing that mask and scared the hell out of me, but there he was, safe.

I couldn’t imagine what he did down there. I didn’t ask about the gunshot, because I was afraid to know the truth. He had probably killed someone down there, or something equally bad, and I didn’t want to know. I understood that the Caldwells were dangerous, and that he was doing this for me, but still. I couldn’t imagine killing someone.

That was what he did, though. He was a Navy SEAL, and he was trained to kill America’s enemies. That was different from killing gang members, though, or maybe it wasn’t. I just didn’t know how I felt about the whole thing, but the fear and the adrenaline still seemed to linger inside me.

I got up slowly and smelled coffee brewing in the other room. I was slightly surprised that he was up already and even more surprised that he was making coffee. But I wasn’t about to complain. I got some clothes on and stumbled out into the kitchen.

Travis was standing in front of the stove wearing nothing but black gym shorts. I stopped short and stared at his muscular back, at the tattoos that snaked along his skin. I kept forgetting in all of the excitement just how attractive he really was, how he made my body feel.

“Morning,” he said.

“Oh, uh, good morning,” I said.

“You gonna stand there and stare, or do you want some pancakes?”

I paused. “You made pancakes?”

“Sure as hell did.”

“Wow. You’re a SEAL and a chef. I’m impressed.”

“Cooking pancakes is my specialty, mainly because it’s easy and brainless.”

I laughed, the spell broken. I walked into the kitchen and got myself a mug of coffee while he flipped the pancakes, stacking the finished ones on a plate.

I watched him cook for a few minutes, fascinated. Travis just didn’t seem like the kind of man who would cook me breakfast. Frankly, he seemed like the type to kick me out in the morning and pretend like we’d never spoken to each other.

Then again, this wasn’t exactly a normal situation we were in. Not many men got involved in my mafia-related issues, and so he was already heads above the rest.

When he was finished, he put a plate in front of me, a plate in front of himself, and the plate of pancakes between us. He sat down and gestured.

“Get at it,” he said, serving himself.

I smiled and grabbed a small stack, drowning it in syrup. I took a big bite, and it was delicious.

“Okay, so what’s the reason for this?” I asked him.

“Rough night last night. Pancakes solve most problems.”

“I’m not sure that’s true.”

“Trust me. Global warming? Terrorists? Throw pancakes at it.”

“Seems like you’d be out of a job if terrorism were solved so easily.”

He grinned at me. “Great point. Fuck pancakes.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as we continued to eat.

“Listen,” he said finally, “I want to go see a friend today.”

“Okay,” I said, shrugging. “That’s fine with me.”

“Well, not really a friend, but someone who knew Janey back in the day.” He paused and swallowed a bite of pancake. “I have a plan.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Do you now?”

“Yeah, but I want to get more info on Janey before we go ahead with it. Can you trust me on this?”

I nodded once. “Okay.”

“Good. Don’t worry, there won’t be any explosions or gunshots today.”

“Darn. I was just starting to enjoy them.”

He smirked and leaned toward me. “We can get some fireworks going right now, if that’s what you really want.”

“Probably not the safest thing in the world, setting up explosions in my apartment.”

“Dangerous things are more fun though.”

I laughed and shook my head. “You might be right about that.”

He leaned back in his chair, grinning at me, as I finished off my stack of pancakes.

What a strange man. He had a point though. Despite all of the insanity and the danger, I felt more alive than I ever had before. I didn’t think it was because we were doing dangerous things, though.

It was probably because of him. Travis just made me feel alive, like I could do absolutely anything. The man was infectious and incredible.

That lingering nightmare was entirely forgotten by the time we finished eating. And all it took was some pancakes.



The car ride was shorter this time. Instead of heading out into the hills on the edge of town, Travis took us south.

The houses in this neighborhood were larger and nicer, with green, manicured lawns and nice paint jobs. There weren’t rusted-out trucks in the front yards, but instead expensive BMWs and SUVs.

“The rich part of town,” Travis commented as we pulled up outside a nice-looking house with a white picket fence.

“Really? I didn’t notice.”

He grinned at me. “I don’t have a lot of friends from this neighborhood, but this guy knew my brother and Janey pretty well.”

“How?” I asked.

“He was the running back of the football team. I guess he was Ray’s best friend back then.”

I nodded. “What’s his name?”

“Sam Gray.” Travis killed the engine. “Looks like he’s done pretty well for himself.”

“Not too bad,” I agreed.

Travis climbed out. “Let me do the talking.”

“You got it, boss.”

He gave me another smirk before heading up the walk toward the front door. I followed him, not at all nervous. Before I would have had butterflies in my stomach at the prospect of interviewing another person for information, but not anymore, not after everything that had happened.

Travis knocked and we waited.

“Is he expecting us?” I whispered.

“Nope.”

“Travis! We can’t just ambush people.”

He shrugged. “Too late for that.”

The door opened and a pretty woman stood there wearing white pants and a green sweater, her blond hair pulled back into a messy bun.

“Hi there. Can I help you?”

“Ma’am, I’m looking for Sam. Is he around?”

“Sure. Samwell is here. Who can I say is looking for him?”

“Travis Rock.”

“Right. Just a second.” She shut the door and disappeared back inside.

“Guess he’s married,” Travis mused. “Never would have figured that.”