“Wait.” Had she heard wrong? “You’re giving me your Prospect for the day?”
“Strictly a loaner.”
She watched with fascination as he walked away. Although she didn’t feel she needed a bodyguard, why argue with Vincent? The man had a way of convincing her to do whatever he wanted. But Jefferson would absolutely have to agree to leave his bike behind. She didn’t want to be followed around like she was in protective custody.
Chapter 28
Vincent didn’t like lying to Tina, but he had no choice for now. He’d kept his end of the bargain, waited patiently to find out what her boss would do to protect her against Kline. Turned out to be nothing. Alex James would shield his kin at all costs, including destroying Tina’s career.
Vincent couldn’t let that happen.
He took the crosstown expressway to Ocean Drive, then turned onto Louisiana Avenue, where Kline’s main residence was located. The background check had revealed the bastard lived in multiple locations around the metro area. Another sign of trouble. People who constantly moved around had something to hide. The black Mercedes Tina had described was parked in the long driveway. There was nothing remarkable about the 1930s bungalow, though the lawn was finely landscaped and the wraparound porch furnished with top-end goods.
Vincent parked his bike behind Kline’s car and removed his sunglasses. The front window curtains parted slightly. It didn’t matter if Kline knew he was here. Vincent intended to confront him and put an end to Tina’s torment.
He pounded on the front door, his hands sweating in his black leather riding gloves. It was too hot to wear them, but it was better not to leave incriminating evidence behind like fingerprints. The front door opened, and Kline surprisingly invited him inside. Did the fucker really believe Vincent didn’t pose a credible threat, or was he just too stupid to realize it?
“I’ve been waiting to meet you,” he said arrogantly.
“The feeling is mutual.” Vincent crossed the threshold, eyes and ears open. Nothing looked out of place. He scanned the walls and bookshelves in the entryway, looking for blinking red lights or some other kind of surveillance equipment. “We need to talk.”
Kline looked exactly like his driver’s license photo. Same dark hair and eyes, six feet tall, polished appearance, slacks and a button-down shirt, and slippers on his feet.
“Can I offer you a beer? Iced tea?”
“This isn’t a social call.” Vincent glared at him, hatred boiling just below the surface. God, he wanted to snap this pencil-necked motherfucker in half. Why waste time and give him the opportunity to explain himself? But Vincent had promised his Brothers to exercise caution before he struck. Be sure, they’d said. “I know everything.”
“Define everything.”
Vincent fisted his hands, then flexed them. He took a step forward. “You vandalized Tina’s SUV on club property—that’s where it all started, motherfucker. And when she continued to deny you, instead of moving on, you retaliated, stalked and harassed her. Left threatening voice messages, sent her flowers, showed up at her office unannounced…” He advanced another foot.
“Conjecture coming from an experienced man like you surprises me.”
“Experienced man?” Vincent had reached his limit sooner than he expected. Nothing seemed to rattle this guy—not Vincent’s size, his patches, his visible fury, not even direct confrontation. Fuck it. He grabbed a fistful of Kline’s shirt and slammed him against the closest wall. “What sanatorium did you escape from? Don’t pull your intellectual bullshit with me. And don’t fucking lie, or your Uncle Alexander will be cleaning up pieces of your skull for the next week. Did you attack Tina Friday night?”
The arrogance disappeared from Kline’s eyes, and he went slack in Vincent’s hand. Vincent smelled his fear, recognized it on his face. “Pussy.” Vincent gave him a violent shake. “Did you bruise her wrist in the restroom?”
Vincent’s hands moved instinctively to Kline’s throat. He squeezed hard enough to deprive him of air for a few seconds. “Answer me.”
Kline shook his head.
“All right, we’ll do this the hard way.” Vincent half dragged him down the short hallway that opened into a generous great room. He navigated his way down another corridor and found a half bath.
“Let go of me.” Kline smashed his fist against the side of Vincent’s face, but it didn’t faze him.
Vincent closed the door and let go of Kline. “Did you assault Tina?”
Silence.
Vincent shoved him toward the open toilet. “Get on your knees.”