Free One Touch More by Mandy Baxter Page A

Gotta spread the love, you know what I mean?”
    â€œNah. Why? I’ve got a sweet deal at Tabitha’s hotel. I’m not gonna catch any heat as long as she’s working there, and she’s working there until I tell her she’s not.”
    Damien resisted the urge to pop the asshole in the face as Joey pulled the truck to a stop just inside the yard and flashed his headlights three times. “She used to be your girl, right?” He’d violated his own rule by asking a question, but curiosity burned him from the inside out.
    â€œYeah,” Joey said in a conspiratorial tone that caused Damien’s hackles to rise. “And believe me, I defiled her fine ass.”
    Damien swallowed down the growl that rose in his throat and traded it for an appreciative snort. “But you’re not hittin’ that anymore?”
    â€œTabs likes bad boys, but she wants hers to have more of a conscience. Ain’t nobody got time for that shit.”
    Joey’s statement, coupled with Tony’s not-so-gentle reminder to Tabitha that Joey had her brother by the balls, only helped to confirm that there was more to Tabitha’s involvement than Damien had first surmised. It was becoming more obvious that she was being coerced, which made him wonder exactly what Joey had on her brother that would convince Tabitha to help him out.
    In the distance, a flashlight blinked in the darkness once, twice, and again. Joey opened his car door. “We’re on. Let’s get the cargo and get the fuck outta here.”
    Damien put Tabitha to the back of his mind as he got out of the car and followed Joey. His skin prickled as his senses engaged, fine-tuned to his surroundings and every minute sound that shifted in the distance. It was too damned dark out here. The opportunity for an ambush too perfect. As they approached the three men waiting for them, Damien banished that last bit of concern for Tabitha to the compartment that he stored Parker’s sensibilities in.
    The exchange was made easily enough. Product was transferred from one of the semitrailers and loaded up into the backseat of Joey’s truck. He pulled out of the yard and stopped just outside of the gate to the shipping yard, waiting for it to close behind them, when a disembodied arm reached in through his open window and pointed a gun at Joey’s head.
    The would-be carjacker leaned in the rest of the way, his face undistinguishable in the darkness. “Both of you fuckers, get out of the truck. Now.”
    Obviously Joey’s rival dealer wasn’t done trying to get his hands on Lightfoot’s product. From out of the shadows, the guy’s backup approached from behind a souped-up Nissan. The car was running, but the lights were off. Damien couldn’t see much past the headlights of Joey’s truck, but as the dude sidled up to his partner, the light glinted off the chrome of a 9mm clutched in his grip.
    Joey eased open his door and climbed down from his seat and Damien tucked his forty close to his hip as he followed suit. They had darkness on their side and with what appeared to be two-against-two odds, Damien had the height and muscle—not to mention the training—that would ensure they got the upper hand.
    He kept his stance relaxed as he came around the high front end of Joey’s Ford, using the truck’s jacked-up height to hide the weapon at his side.
    Thug number one jerked his gun in Damien’s direction. “Get your ass over here before my patience runs out, asshole.”
    The fence to the shipping yard rattled closed and Damien used the momentary distraction to strike. He used the butt of the gun and brought it down on the head of the guy closest to him, knocking him out cold.
    Before thug number two could react, he brought his gun up and aimed it at the bastard’s head. “You really wanna do this?” he asked. “Just gather up your buddy, back the fuck off, and let us