I didn’t like losing that kind of crazy on this side of the border, but if there was a situation going on down there, he was someone who was capable of… sending a message.
There was no room for subtle when it came to cartel warfare. Shit was rough between syndicates. Literal gunfights in broad daylight in the streets.That had been the life I’d grown up in. And because there wasn’t a whole fuckuva lot of options to get out of the debilitating poverty I’d been born into, I’d gotten myself wrapped up in that world before I was even in middle school.That life makes you hard, and it does it fast.I hadn’t so much as blinked at the idea of torture since I got my twelve-year molars in.“I’ll get him the message,” Marco said, nodding. “You heading out?” he asked when I reached for my keys.Here is where never letting anyone close enough to you to truly know your tells came in handy.Because I had to lie right to his face.“Val’s gotta hit the vet. Got something going on with his stomach,” I said, shrugging.“Want me to come?” he asked.“Nah, ‘less you want to be the one to clean up puke and shit in the car,” I offered, wanting to smirk with how quickly he lost color at that. “Didn’t think so,” I said, grabbing a leash off the hook, then heading out back to find Val.I didn’t like to outsource any kind of work to someone outside of my organization if I could help it. That was how you ended up with a shiny new pair of bracelets and a free bus ride to the state pen.But the fact of the matter was, I’d been trying to figure this shit out on my own for weeks without making a damn bit of progress.I couldn’t watch my men like an outsider could watch them. They’d sense something was up. I had to have someone else who could see shit that I wasn’t seeing, then report it all back to me, so I could decide how to move forward.I had a place in mind since the idea came to me.I had several reasons.One, they weren’t a big company. They would see dollar signs when they heard I was looking to hire them.Two, they weren’t exactly known for being the most moral of PI companies. They were willing to get a little dirty.And three, yeah, Hope.I was still relatively new to this little town known as Navesink Bank. But I’d learned quick about the organizations that ran the place. The Grassi Family mafia. The Henchmen bikers. The Mallicks were a family of loan sharks. Hailstorm was some sort of paramilitary organization.Each of those organizations had spawned off a new generation.Hope was of that new generation. The daughter of a biker from the Henchmen club, and a profiler from Hailstorm, she’d decided, for fuck-knew what reason, to become a private investigator.See, the thing was, Hope wasn’t exactly a fan of mine. That didn’t mean that I didn’t have respect for a woman like her.Tough as nails.Capable.Take-no-shit.That was the kind of person you wanted working for you.And I liked the idea of her being on the team.For her talents and determination.Though, I won’t lie, she was nice to look at, too. I figured if I had to get bad news, might as well get it from a beautiful woman.And she was.Beautiful.She either didn’t know it, or didn’t put any stock in it, though. Always dressing in somewhat utilitarian pants, black tanks or tees, and—weather permitting—a bomber jacket.She was tall and lean with long, dark hair that, when the sun caught it right, had little flashes of red in it. Thanks to her biker daddy with his red hair. She also inherited blue eyes from him. But where his were bright, hers were dark and stormy.Her Ma was Asian and Dutch, if I remembered that shit correctly, and you could see that evidenced in her bone structure and features.She had a little bit of an edgy look to her, too. What with her ink and her double nose piercing.When I opened the door to the office, my gaze landed right on her. Sitting at a desk, pouring peroxide over a wound in her leg. She barely fucking winced.In another world, she’d have made a grade-A criminal. And I guess, in a way, she was. Trespassing and spying on people and shit like that.It seemed like most of the female offspring of that biker club went on to live more straight-and-narrow lives. It wasn’t until recently that they started letting women prospect to become members. I wondered a bit distractedly if Hope would have signed up if she could have.She’d look sexy as fuck on a bike.And pointing a gun.But then I got to watch the wildest shiA take-no-prisoners, badass woman who never let anyone even look at her sideways… let her coworkers talk to her like absolute shit. The fuck was that about? I had no idea, and then I was being ushered into the back with the men while Naomi sat in the front, watching my dog like he was planning on charging her or something. I sat there, saying very little, as the Peter guy prattled on and on and fucking on about their experience andAnd, at the end of it, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t trust a damn one of them to handle my shit. Hope, though? With her biker daddy and her biker uncles and her aunts that did all sorts of illegal shit? She could be trusted. Besides, it was funny as fuck to watch those men’s faces fall when I demanded it be Hope. If there was one thing I’d learned in life, it was that it was satisfying as hell to take a person of power down a peg or two. With that, I walked out, a smile tugging at my lips as I walked Val down the street with me to order som
“Nah, man, he spent the morning cleaning up puke and shit,” Manny said, walking up behind Luis with an even more stacked plate. “I wouldn’t be hungry either.” Luis’s brows pinched as he glanced over toward where Val was sitting at the front window, watching the grounds, likely itching to get out there with his friends. But the dogs were on schedules. Some were in the house a good chunk of the day, but outside all night. Others had the opposite. I didn’t believe in having dogs living outside, not even for protection, but some of them—like Val—seemed to live for their guardMy gaze kept drifting toward the clock, watching the hours tick away, getting more and more concerned that I hadn’t heard from that PI place. Were they really going to shoot themselves in the foot by not letting Hope take on the case? I mean, they got paid whether she solved the fucking case or not. Though, yeah, I had no doubts that she was capable of sussing shit out. If for no other reason than spite. Spite
Nah, man, he spent the morning cleaning up puke and shit,” Manny said, walking up behind Luis with an even more stacked plate. “I wouldn’t be hungry either.” Luis’s brows pinched as he glanced over toward where Val was sitting at the front window, watching the grounds, likely itching to get out there with his friends. But the dogs were on schedules. Some were in the house a good chunk of the day, but outside all night. Others had the opposite. I didn’t believe in having dogs living outside, not even for protection, but some of them—like Val—seemed to live for their guardMy gaze kept drifting toward the clock, watching the hours tick away, getting more and more concerned that I hadn’t heard from that PI place. Were they really going to shoot themselves in the foot by not letting Hope take on the case? I mean, they got paid whether she solved the fucking case or not. Though, yeah, I had no doubts that she was capable of sussing shit out. If for no other reason than spite. Spite
So I wasn’t afraid of male anger, knowing that no matter what form it took, I could defend myself against it. That meant I didn’t jolt or shrink or feel like I was going to cry when someone was in my face and screaming. Instead, I kind of just focused on how ridiculous their actions were. How they reminded me of the emotional regulation of a five-year-old instead of a fully grown man. Peter, he always got red. Liam kind of spat a little when he was yelling. Elijah cursed so often when he was pissed that I actually started a mental ticker when he started talking. It was only Vane’s anger that I even remotely worried about. Unlike our other coworkers who ran hot and emotive, Vane was a cold sort of fury. Quiet. Unpredictable. Or maybe I was just reading too much into shit, given our history, given the fact that we barely spoke since… well… all that shit went down. I was sure he wasn’t happy that the biggest client we’d landed in six months wanted me, and only me, on the case. B
Which is someone working behind—“ Elijah started. “I know what a fucking snake is, E,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Did he say why he thinks that?” “He didn’t give a lot of specifics,” Liam said. “He mentioned some vague things about things getting leaked that shouldn’t have been if ‘all the holes were sealed up,’” he went on, air quoting the part A had said. “Pretty much. We can’t go asking questions, but need to have answers,” Peter said. “Now why don’t you run along and tell the client what is going on, then take your ass home, so we can get to work?” I wanted to snap back at that, but I didn’t say anything as I grabbed my wallet, took another sip of my cold coffee, and headed out the door. The problem was, I didn’t have a phone number. Honestly, I doubted Peter and the guys did either. Jay struck me as more careful than that. And I couldn’t exactly show up at his house either. So my only choice was to wait for him to leave, hope he was alone, then follow him. It took longer t
While I waited for it to be filled, I popped into the local big box store, grabbing some more supplies to treat my wound since I was running low at home. Don’t ask me why, but I walked my ass casually down the book section. And when I saw Les Miserables and the first Wheel of Time book—that was now a TV series, according to the sticker on the front—I grabbed them and tossed them into my basket. I tried not to think too much into that as I checked myself out, then grabbed my food, and headed home. Then, about a foot into my place, I forgot I even had books in my bag. Because I realized almost instantly that I wasn’t alone… Naomi I’d never been so grateful for a plastic bag ban as I was right then. Because as I set my canvas totes down on the floor, so my hands were free to reach for my expandable baton and knife, they didn’t make a single sound. My apartment had a weird setup. It wasn’t in a complex like most people had, but on top of a store that, judging by the fact that it w
Hey, I need a place to crash for a few days. You don’t mind, right? Then: Where the hell are you? I’ve been here two days already and haven’t seen you yet… “Right,” I said, shrugging as I went across the apartment to tuck away the gun, and plug in my phone. The texts could wait until the morning. If there was something serious up, Violet would know about“How long are you crashing?” I asked, looking over at her. “Probably just another couple of days. Work has been surprisingly light lately. If you want privacy, I could go crash with…” she paused then, going through the list of cousins, mentally checking off the ones who’d recently gotten shacked up and were spouting out babies. “I know. The list is getting shorter,” I said, nodding. “You’ll always have me. I don’t plan on shacking up with anyone,” I told her as I went to grab the bags. “I know, right? Who the hell has the time?” Vi agreed, following her nose into the kitchen with me because, if there was one thing you could coun
That skip had originally been pulled in for a particularly horrific case of domestic abuse before getting let out on bail. Because, well, our justice system didn’t seem to give a fuck about the victims of domestic abuse. Violet had wanted him to know what it was like to be made to be a victim by someone with more power than he had. She didn’t often bend the rules. But she had her moments. When it seemed appropriate. “Why would he come to your place instead of one of the other ones?” Vi asked. “I mean, I’m not trying to be insulting or anything.” “No, that’s fair,” I agreed. It was no secret that there were bigger and, arguably, better private investigation offices he could have gone to. “I guess maybe he didn’t think they would take on his case, given who he is. And maybe what they know will happen to said snake once he’s found out.” Vi nodded at that, her attention turning to the TV. And I thought that was maybe it. Until she spoke. “I think it’s because of you.” “What?” I as