“You’re not anymore?”
“No.”
She was quiet a moment. “The brush was my grandmother’s.”
I took note of the personal information she parceled out but I didn’t comment. I made a few more passes with the brush then set it down and ran my fingers through the strands because I wanted to. “All done.”
“Thank you.”
“Welcome.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “I’ll let you finish up.” I needed to get the hell out of here before I did something stupid, like pull her into my arms. “Meet me upstairs in the kitchen when you’re done.”
I didn’t wait for an answer. I took the stairs two at a time. Pulling out my phone, I strode through my bedroom to my deck, already dialing.
“I GOT A PROBLEM.”
Candle laughed. “Lemme guess. Blonde, blue-eyed, five-nothing, face of an angel?”
I didn’t want to discuss Siren with him yet. “She’s not the problem.”
“Women are always a problem.”
No shit. “Know anythin’ about the illegal trafficking that goes through the port of Miami?”
“This doesn’t sound like a conversation we should be having over the phone.”
“I’m on a time constraint.”
Candle sighed. “I’ll call you back.” A second later¸ a blocked number came up on my display.
“Better?” I asked.
“Marginally. Start talking.”
“You know the Maldonado family?”
“Dirty fuckers, all of them. Glad the patriarch is dead.”
“His cousin’s in the correctional facility in Miami.”
“So I heard.”
“He’s puttin’ hits out from the comfort of his cell.”
“I can see where that could be a problem,” he said cautiously.
“You got any members in lockup down there?”
“I’m not looking to start a turf war.”
I gave the only piece of information I knew he’d take offense at. “The hit is on a twenty-year-old woman.”
Candle cursed. “Fucking asshole has no boundaries.”
“I hear he’s tryin’ to cut a deal,” I lied. “Wants to snitch on anyone who’ll get him walkin’ papers. Word is he’s already got the Feds’ ear and he’s not a fan of bikers.” I didn’t know what past, if any, Maldonado had with any bikers, let alone the club Candle belonged to, but I took the gamble and played it because chances were they’d crossed paths plenty of times.
Candle snorted. “Deal like that can shorten a man’s lifespan.”
That was what I was hoping. “So I hear.”
“And rumors about a snitch can spread fast…given the right kinda push.”
Now I was getting somewhere. “Sounds like his days are numbered.”
“Could be,” he said noncommittally. “Or maybe he should be counting his hours.”
Even better. “No one likes a snitch.”
“Amen, brother.”
He hadn’t served with me and I didn’t trust him for shit. He wasn’t my fucking brother but I let it slide. “Later.”
“Hey. Anything else you wanna share with me?” he asked pointedly.
“Not yet.” Randy would know soon enough I was coming for him.
Candle muttered something about cowboys and I hung up.
I stood on the deck, breathing in the fresh salt air a few minutes before I walked back into my room. Heading for my home office, I stopped short. Wrapped in a towel, her back to me, Siren was looking at the suits in my closet I rarely wore.
“You lost?” I asked casually.
She didn’t turn around. “You have nice clothes.”
“They were a gift.” I had no fucking clue why I told her that.
She fingered one of my custom-made dress shirts. “From who?”
“Ex-wife.”
“She has good taste.”
I told myself not to but I did it anyway. I let the goddamn cat out of the bag. “Had.”
She turned and took in my expression like she was reading my soul. “Had?”
Seeing the bruising on Siren’s delicate face, something strange happened. My heart didn’t take its usual blow over the thought of my dead wife. Instead, it took a hit seeing Siren’s bruising. “She’s dead.”
Nothing changed in Siren’s expression. “Leigh?”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t have to.
She nodded. “I can’t imagine what you went through.” Her voice clear, her eyes studying, she didn’t react with pity or sympathy or fake bullshit understanding. She didn’t even look at me like I was broken.
Air filled my lungs and I inclined my head at my clothes. “You need somethin’?”