“I think she’s trying to say Marcus something.” Well, shit. Marcus was just making all kinds of friends lately.

“Marcus Whaler?”

Nassir repeated the question and then got distracted as the doctor apparently showed up. “Yeah.”

I blew out a breath. “Marcus Whaler is in a hospital bed right now because I took a tire iron to both of his kneecaps last weekend. What in the holy fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know, but it needs to end now.” Nassir went from furious to deadly cold. That was when he was at his most terrifying.

“Bax is with me now. I’ll make a stop and see what Marcus has to say. Do you think this is tied to Novak? Could it be one of his guys the feds missed?”

“I don’t give two fucks who it is. This is our town now, and I’ll do whatever it takes to protect it.”

I didn’t disagree with him. “Shoot me a text and let me know that she’s okay.”

I hung up and looked at Bax. His shoulders had tightened up and his dark eyes had deepened in a way I knew meant he wasn’t happy.

I put my phone away and lifted a hand to rub the back of my neck. “Roxie got beat up. Nassir has her down at Spanky’s waiting on a doctor. He says it’s pretty bad.”

He flicked his cigarette away and pushed off the car.

“One of her johns?” His tone was as hard as the look in his eyes.

“No. It sounds like someone set her up to send a pretty clear message to me and Nassir. She said he told her to tell us ‘this is just the beginning.’ ”

He just stared at me for a minute and made his way to the other side of the car. “That’s the thing about trying to get the upper hand in a place like the Point: it always fights back, and more often than not, it’s the innocent that end up getting hurt.”

I got into the car and looked out the window as he pulled out of the parking lot with a squeal of tires.

“Head to the hospital.” He didn’t respond as the car raced through traffic. “The guy she was supposed to hook up with is there. I want to talk to him.”

“Talking is overrated when a girl gets hurt, Race.”

I looked at him out of the corner of my eye and told him, “It’s the same guy who tried to get out of his debt by hiring the muscle to work me over. He’s not going anywhere, Bax. I shattered both of his kneecaps after I got rid of the thug.”

He turned his head to look at me and I saw the edge of his mouth quirk up in a slight grin. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

I snorted at him. “Really? Your wrist didn’t snap itself the night we met, now, did it?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that did surprise me. I thought you and all that blond hair and sissy-rich-boy attitude you were prancing around with was going to make for an easy mark. Funny, with you nothing has ever been easy.”

“No, it hasn’t. Do you think it’s worth it? After everything we’ve been through?”

He lifted a shoulder and let it fall as he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. “Your sister is worth it. The garage is worth it. Novak being gone is worth it. You and Titus making it out of that shit storm of beatdowns and bullets is worth it, so I guess it’s all in how you look at it. I’ve been here too long to think it’s ever going to get easier, but now being in the thick of it means something different. I have a reason for doing what I do.”

“What’s that?” I figured I knew the answer already but hearing him say it would put a lot of that trepidation I had about him and my sister to rest.

“Dovie. Good, bad, and everything in between, I do for her, because of her.”

“Me too, Bax. Me too.”

He looked at me and we had a moment where I think we were finally on the exact same page about what was happening in our world right now and our roles in it. We would both sacrifice everything for those we loved, and it didn’t matter what kind of men that made us.

Finding Marcus was easy enough. All I had to do was ask where the whiny and sleazy guy with two broken legs was. Plus, Marcus was kind of a tool and wasn’t really the type of guy who endeared himself to anyone. Especially to the pretty nurses in charge of his care, to him they were just prey. When we walked into the room, it was clear they had him on some intense pain medicine, because instead of freaking out or calling for help, he just gave me a dopey grin.

Both of his legs were encased in plaster from midthigh to his foot. They were suspended from the ceiling on some kind of contraption that kept them elevated above his heart, and he looked more like a mummy than a man. One of his eyes was still swollen shut from where I had socked him, but a big, sloppy grin was on his face, making me wonder how much help he was going to be.