Twenty minutes later, I’d drafted and email and sent the pictures to the wife of the CEO, a woman who didn’t need this level of stress when she was already trying to raise four kids on her own without a nanny because her husband claimed it was “her job.” But it was what her lawyer sister said she needed. Proof. Undeniable proof. Because he had the access to the money, which meant he would throw a lot of it toward fighting her about alimony and custody and even child support. Meanwhile, the woman had worked her ass off to support him when he was building his business. It was a case that would end up being pretty high profile, and I was going to pay attention to the progress, rooting for the scorned wife all the way. Then the door was opening, and the muffled male voices spilled out and filled the small room, making Val’s tail waggle furiously, but he stayed where he’d been told to as his owner approached. “We will get started on the case immediately,” Peter said, all ass-kissy whe
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 sto
A 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