Page 74 of Protected

He wanted his hands free—just in case. Slipping the phone into his pocket, Parker thought about his options. His 9mm was in his glove compartment, but he had a small Glock in his ankle holster. Or he could just fistfight his way out of whatever was happening here.

“Parker Wilcox,” the first guy said when they were a couple of feet away. “Need to talk to you?”

“Do I know you?” he asked, trying to buy some time while taking in the situation.

He gave them both a quick once-over. One was tall, around his height, but not as big. The other might’ve been about five feet ten, with some extra weight on him—weight that wasn’t muscle.

Parker could take them.

When his attention returned to the talker, the tall guy, he noticed the full sleeve of tattoos on his left arm, and his breath stalled in his throat.

Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

He looked away. He didn’t want to bring attention to the fact that he’d spotted a six-point crown tattoo with flames shooting out of the center point on the inside of the man’s left wrist.

The Kingz.

The other, who had managed to move closer when Parker wasn’t paying attention, didn’t look like a banger, but…

Parker felt the muzzle of a gun in his ribs, and he gritted his teeth. He could disarm the asshole, break his hand, and put a bullet in the other dude before they knew what happened.

He wouldn’t.

Not yet.

Not before he got some answers.

“Don’t make a scene and no one gets hurt,” the guy with the gun said close to his ear.

“If you don’t want a scene, get that damn gun out of my back.” Parker might’ve sounded calm, but inside he was fuming.

“Can’t do that. You being former SWAT, you probably have a few tricks up your sleeve.”

Someone did their homework, but the tall guy had called him Parker. NotJunior.

Parker suddenly had a bad feeling that whatever was going on here had something to do with the two visitors at Supreme the other day.

“Just want to talk.”

“Then talk,” Parker snapped.

“Not here.”

“I don’t know who you are or what this is about. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“See that little girl right there?” the other guy said of an adorable grade-schooler who was skipping toward the entrance of the restaurant with her parents strolling behind her.

“You either take a walk with us or I’m gonna shoot her. I won’t kill her. I’ll just maim her, then I’ll do the same to her parents.”

The last thing Parker wanted was for innocent bystanders to get hurt, but…

Ah, hell.Chelsey.

Dammit!

She was in the parking lot walking toward the restaurant. On any given day, he’d be able to spot her anywhere, even if he wasn’t looking for her. But today, the yellow blouse she was wearing was like a blinking neon sign that screamed:look at me.

He needed her to get out of here. Or maybe he could go with these guys, and at least get them away from the restaurant.