Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Is this a staring contest, or are we having a meeting?” Ambrose asked.
“We should talk as a family before the sheriff joins us,” Remington said.
I started to leave the room, but Ambrose grabbed my arm. “He stays.”
“We’re not sharing private business with an outsider, particularly one who is in law enforcement.”
“Damn, have you been working on your I’m-in-charge voice. You sound even more officious than usual.”
“Ambrose.” Dax used his I’m-warning-you tone.
“Eric is part of this operation.”
“So are several of our informants, but they aren’t here today.”
“Either talk about the plan, or I’m done,” Ambrose shouted.
Dax frowned. “Have you eaten today?”
Ambrose’s hand tightened on my arm, and I knew he was about to hang up on them.
“Pizza is on the way.”
“Thank God,” Dax said. “Anytime he gets like this, feed him.”
“I’d gotten the impression he just ate roots and sticks and shit out in the bayou.”
Ambrose glared at me. “I don’t need you joining them.”
“I’m serious. You were proud of being the wilderness expert, and I didn’t think you needed things like regular food or a working toilet or—”
“My compost toilet works quite well.”
“Don’t let him get away with that,” Dax said. “Demand better.”
Corbin frowned. “Why does Eric need to use—”
Lance snorted. “Keep up. They’re obviously together.”
Corbin’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute—”
Ambrose held up a hand. “We are not talking about this.”
“Maybe he’ll confess after he eats,” Dax said.
“Eric is mine. End of discussion. Now, we need a plan to kill Carlotti.”
“We do,” Remington agreed. “And if all of you will shut the fuck up, I’ll explain it to you.”
I had no doubt Ambrose would be giving input, but Remington’s tone silenced everyone. It was amazing to see all those strong men defer to him. But I understood it. He had an aura of command. It was clear he expected to be listened to. I wondered if he’d conveniently been born with that or if he’d learned it.
I also wondered what he was like when he was alone with Peter. Being a leader all the time had to be exhausting.
“We have put our plan in motion to deprive Carlotti of all his support. As you already know, he’s deeply in debt. His creditors are about to call those debts in.”
“How did you manage that?” Remington’s brows rose, and I realized I was probably expected to be a silent participant.
“Through our connections,” was all he said.
I didn’t think there was any point in asking for more information from him, but Ambrose wasn’t ready to let the subject drop. “If we’d had those kinds of connections a few months ago, you would have used them. Who are we working with now?”
Remington turned to me again. “This information does not get shared with anyone. You’ve seen our work. You know what happens to those who go against us.”
Ambrose growled. “No one is touching him.”
“Then you better be right to trust him.”
There was nothing like having my life threatened by the bad guys I’m working with to get rid of worse bad guys. How the hell had I ended up here when I thought I was moving somewhere slow and quiet?
“I consulted X,” Remington said.
How much did he think I was going to get from that?
“He had shit on Carlotti?” Ambrose asked.
“X has contacts who work with several of Carlotti’s most elusive creditors.”
Lance snorted. “He would. Is he sending his guys to work with us?”
“Yes. You’ll get to see your special friends again, or at least some of them.” Sarcasm dripped from Remington’s words.
Ambrose laid a hand on my shoulder. “Lance took off without Remy’s permission and inserted himself into one of X’s operations. Tony went with him. It was a lot of fun.”
I could only imagine.
Remington continued, ignoring Ambrose and Lance. “Between X’s contacts and our inside informant, we’re nearly ready to arrange a meeting with Carlotti.”
“Are you sure we can trust this informant?”
“I am.”
“How can you be that certain? How did you get in contact with this man?”
“He was working with the FBI.”
“Then how did you…”
“They owed me a favor.”
Lance’s eyes went wide. “The FBI owed you a favor?”
Remington nodded.
“And you’re not going to elaborate on that?” Ambrose asked.
“No.”
“How the hell do you know he’s not informing on us too?” Lance asked.
“Because I have an understanding with his handler, and I’m offering a much better extraction option.”
I could feel Ambrose’s tension rising. “I don’t like this. I don’t think we can trust this guy.”
Remington scoffed. “You don’t trust anybody. I’m not even sure you trust all of us.”
Ambrose ran a hand over his hair, leaving it spiked up on top of his head. He looked around at each member of his family. “I do trust you. You might make some stupid ass decisions, and you might have grown a little bit too soft living your cushy lives—”
“Indoor plumbing does not qualify someone as having a cushy life,” Dax said.