“That’s the idea.”
They left the club and drove into his quiet neighborhood. From the front, his house looked undisturbed, but Stryker new the destruction that waited inside. He pulled into his garage, cut the engine.
“Ready to clear?” he asked.
“Absolutely.”
With weapons in hand, they walked through the first floor. Other than the hole in the French door, nothing had been disturbed. Next stop, his basement. All good down there.
Despite seeing the video, nothing could have prepared him for the destruction in his bedroom. His bed and his headboard were riddled with bullet holes.
Spinetti’s putting the screws to me.
“I’m bagging the slugs and shell casings,” Emerson said. “Do you have any plastic baggies?”
She snapped a few photos of his bed before bagging what she needed. Then, she turned her full attention on him. “We are not a team if one of us is lying or withholding information. Are we clear on that?”
“Got it.”
“Who do you think did this?” she asked.
“Spinetti’s crew.”
“Going forward, you’re wearing a vest.”
“Then, so are you.”
“Me? I’m not a target,” she replied.
“If you’re with me, you are. We both wear vests.”
“Fine. Whatever it takes to keep you alive.” She glanced around the room. “Let’s pack you up. You’re staying with me.”
He could crash at the club, but this was a no brainer. “You know, Easton, if you wanted me to move in with you, all you had to do was ask.”
“Not funny.” She threw him some shade. “I’m still angry with you, but there is no way you’re dying on me.”
He threw clothing into a couple of leather overnight bags, snapped a few pictures of the bed. As he turned out the light and shut the door, a chill traveled down his spine. Was their intent to kill him or terrorize him? He didn’t fucking know.
He texted the pictures to Cooper. Within seconds, his phone rang. “Are you okay?” Cooper asked, his voice groggy. “When did that happen?”
“A couple of hours ago, but I wasn’t here.”
“Spinetti?” Cooper asked.
“It’s gotta be. Before you lecture me, I’m not going to visit him in prison.”
“Good choice,” Cooper said. “Need a place to crash?”
“I’m staying with Emerson, but thanks.” Stryker ended the call, then called a twenty-four-hour glass repair company.
“They’ll be here by two this morning,” he told Emerson.
Emerson brewed a pot of coffee before sitting at his kitchen island. “How did you end up living with your aunt and uncle?” She sipped the hot drink.
He couldn’t have the kind of relationship he wanted if he wasn’t open with her. Easing onto the chair beside her, he paused to sip the joe.
“A few months after my mom died, my dad started traveling for work again. He asked Heather, my mom’s sister, if Trudy and I could stay with her and Gordon for a couple of weeks until he sorted things out. He showed back up last month.” Every muscle in his body tensed.