Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“I’ve been better.”
“This whole thing getting to ya?”
“You could say that.”
“What’s got you so twisted?”
“Every fucking thing.” I leaned back in my seat. “I feel like everything’s on the line, and it’s up to me to make sure this whole thing doesn’t blow up in our faces.”
“It’s not all on you, brother.”
“It certainly feels that way.” I shook my head. “It’s been weighing on me so much I feel like I can’t fucking breathe.”
“It’s not the weight of the load that will get ya. It’s the way you carry it.” He reached over and placed his hand on my shoulder. “This is one load you don’t have to carry on your own. We’re gonna be right there carrying it with you.”
“Appreciate that, brother.”
“Just telling it like it is.” He lifted the camera he’d been working on as he said, “Now, quit your bellyaching and help me get this shit ready.”
Big and I got the mics and cameras prepped, then carried them to the conference room. There, we ran through the entire plan with Stitch and Maverick, discussing where each of the brothers would be positioned during the meet.
Once we’d gone over every detail, we went out to the gun safe and gathered our artillery. We checked the rounds, then loaded everything up into the assigned SUVs. I got in the truck with Cotton, and with Stitch and the others following close behind, we drove over to Bruton’s place.
On the way over, neither of us spoke.
We used the time to mentally prepare for whatever lay ahead—but neither of us could’ve prepared for what was coming.
When we pulled up, I was surprised to see that there were no guards, no crazy drones flying overhead or vicious dogs ready to attack. It was just a regular house with a black Honda Accord parked in the drive. Cotton killed the engine and announced, “We’re here.”
Maverick was quick to reply, “We’re in position and have you covered. You’re good to go.”
While I was relieved to know that they were there and watching, I still had an uneasy feeling when Cotton turned to me and asked, “You ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
He nodded, then opened his door and got out. I followed suit, and we both made our way up to the front door. Cotton knocked, and as we waited for Bruton to answer, I turned and looked around at all the rose bushes and potted plants. It didn’t seem like we had the right place until the door eased open, and Bruton appeared.
I found it almost humorous that our mysterious adversary was wearing a pair of black slacks and a white button-down with a maroon sweater vest. His horn-rimmed glasses were perched high on his nose, and his thin, gray hair was neatly combed to the side, making him appear to be nothing more than your typical grandpa.
Like we were long-lost friends, he greeted us with a warm smile and said, “Well, hello, boys. It’s nice of you to stop by.”
“Hello, Mr. Bruton.” Cotton cocked his brow as he asked, “Or should we call you Davenport?”
“Bruton’s fine. Just fine.” He motioned us inside as he said, “Come on in and make yourselves comfortable.”
Cotton was cautious as he stepped into the house. He took a quick look around, checking for any signs of potential danger, and once he felt the coast was clear, he gave me a nod, letting me know to follow. As soon as Bruton closed the door behind us, he grabbed a glass from the side table and stepped in front of us. “I think it’s best that this conversation stays between us.”
“I’m not following.”
“Your listening devices. You won’t be needing them.” He raised the glass and gave it a slight shake. “Oh, and while you’re at it, you can tell your friends that I’m unarmed. There’s no need to keep a watchful eye. You both are in good hands.”
His phony smile and friendly tone unnerved me, and I could tell Cotton felt the same when he looked over to me and removed his earpiece. He dropped it into the water, then they both waited for me to do the same. As soon as I lifted my hand to my ear, I heard Stitch say, “Just do it. We still have the chip in your belt and the camera. We got you.”
I was reluctant, but I did as Bruton requested and took the earpiece from my ear. When I dropped it into the water, he smiled and said, “Good. Good. That’s much better.”
Bruton placed the glass back down on the table, then smiled and asked, “Can I get you fellas a drink?”
“Enough of the bullshit, Bruton,” Cotton growled. “Just tell us what you want, and then, we’ll be on our way.”
“All in good time, son. All in good time.” He motioned us over to a small sitting area as he said, “Come have a seat and let’s get to know each other for a bit.”