Chapter 18: Touch her and die

Rick’s POV

I hadn’t slept a fucking wink.

Every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was baby blue eyes staring up at me from my tattoo table, daring me to take what I wanted. I could still feel the phantom sensation of her soft skin under my fingertips, the smell of her intoxicating scent clogging my lungs. I had almost lost it. If I had stayed a second longer in that room, I would have ruined her. I would have dragged her straight into my fucked-up world.  

I took a slow sip of black coffee, staring out the window of my private office above the bar. It was barely dawn, the streets outside quiet and gray.

Then, the heavy silence was violently shattered.

The low, synchronized roar of heavy motorcycle engines vibrated through the floorboards. It wasn't just one or two bikes. It was a pack.

Before I could even set my mug down, the door to my office burst open. Louis, my head of security, stepped in, his hand already resting heavily on the holster beneath his jacket. His face was dead serious.

"Boss," Louis said, his voice tense. "We've got company out front. It's The Jackals. Don Pedro is leading them."

I didn't blink. I slowly stood up, adjusting the cuffs of my shirt, letting a cold, lethal calm wash over me. "How many?"

"Six bikes. They just parked right on the curb."

"Keep the boys downstairs on standby," I commanded smoothly, walking past him. "Don't draw unless they do."

When I walked out onto the front steps of the bar, the smell of exhaust and burning rubber filled the morning air. Six sleek, blacked-out motorcycles were lined up, their engines cutting out one by one. At the front of the pack, a man kicked his kickstand down and pulled off his helmet.

Don Pedro.

He smirked, running a hand through his slicked-back hair as he stepped off his bike, his heavy leather boots clicking against the pavement as he walked toward my steps. He looked up at me, his eyes gleaming with a disgusting, calculating amusement.

"Well, well, Rick," Pedro drawled, leaning against the handrail like he owned the place. "You're a hard man to catch these days. Word on the street is you've been busy. In fact, I heard you’ve got a sweet little snack for me."

My blood turned to absolute ice. The image of Samantha’s smiling face flashed behind my eyes, and a primal, murderous urge slammed into my chest. They had been watching us.

I took one slow step down the stairs, towering over him, my expression completely blank, hiding the storm raging inside me.

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about, Pedro," I ground out, my voice dropping into a dangerously low, warning rumble. "And you have exactly thirty seconds to get your bikes off my property before I have my men paint the asphalt with you.”

Don Pedro smirked, strolling up the concrete steps until he was standing right in front of me. The stench of stale smoke and cheap leather rolled off him, but I didn't give him an inch of ground.

"Come onnnn, we're all family," he said, tilting his head with a mocking, wide smile. "Family should know each other, don't you think?"

Suddenly, his smile faded. The fake charm vanished, his expression turning pitch-black as he leaned in close enough for only me to hear.

"You screwed my woman," he hissed, his eyes venomous. "It's only fair I screw yours. Right, guys!?"

He turned back toward the curb, throwing his arms out to his men. The Jackals instantly erupted into a chorus of rough shouts, barking laughs, and dark jeers, revving their motorcycle engines in agreement with their leader. The noise echoed down the empty street, loud and threatening.

Behind me, I heard the sharp, distinct click of Louis disengaging the safety on his firearm. My security team was ready to drop every single one of them right here, right now.

But my mind was temporarily paralyzed by the weight of his words.

"I didn't know she was yours," I said, my voice dropping into a deadly, flat monotone.

It was the truth. The woman from months ago had been a passing distraction, a nameless face in a bar before Samantha ever walked into my life and ruined my ability to look at anyone else. I had no idea she belonged to a Jackal.

But as Pedro’s disgusting threat hung in the morning air, my chest tightened. I tried with everything in me not to imagine him laying even a single, filthy finger on Samantha. The mere thought of anyone touching her—especially a snake like Pedro—ignited a wild, primal fury in my veins that I could barely contain.

Pedro saw the tension in my jaw, and his dark smile slowly returned. He knew he had struck a nerve.

"Okay well, when I find her and fuck her, I'm going to act like I don't know either," Pedro sneered. He burst into a loud, mocking laugh, and his crew instantly joined in, their ugly chuckles echoing off the concrete.

The roar in my ears was deafening. I could feel the blood pumping violently through my veins.

"Leave the women out of this," I ground out, my knuckles turning white as I twisted my hand into a tight fist at my side. I forced my voice to stay dead and flat, hiding the terror clawing at my chest. "I don't have a woman. Don't go after an innocent woman... I'm warning you."

Don Pedro’s laughter died down. He stepped up even closer, invading my space until we were practically chest to chest. "Are you threatening me now?" he scoffed, tilting his chin up.

I didn't back down. I closed the remaining distance, invading his space right back, using my height to tower over him until he had to look up.

"Call it whatever the fuck you want," I hissed, the lethal calm finally taking over. "And you should learn to stay in your lane. Next time I see you or any of your people on my property, I'll shoot you right where you stand."

Pedro stared at me for a long, tense second, trying to see if I was bluffing. He found nothing but a promise of death in my eyes. Slowly, a smirk pulled at his lips again.

"It's always a pleasure to see you, Rick," he mocked.

He turned on his heel, strutting back down the steps toward his motorcycle. He hopped on, kicked the stand up, and fired up the engine. The rest of The Jackals followed suit, turning their bikes around and roaring down the street, leaving behind nothing but a cloud of exhaust and a lingering threat.

I stood on the steps, watching the taillights disappear into the early morning fog. My heart was slamming against my ribs. He was going to look for her.

"Louis," I barked, not even turning around.

"Boss?" Louis stepped up beside me, his hand still on his weapon.

"I need more men around Samantha's apartment," I commanded, my voice shaking slightly with raw fury. "Follow her to work, to the mall, to the fucking supermarket. I want eyes on her twenty-four-seven. But make sure you're very discreet. If she spots you, it's your ass and if anything happens to her, I'll fucking kill you myself. Do you understand?”

Louis nodded grimly. "Yes, boss. Crystal.”