Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 20394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
Chapter 16
Pres
I drive the blacked-out Suburban through the high-dollar neighborhood. I was right about the congressman's car. It's a black Suburban with tinted windows. You can't even see into it because the windows are so dark. I pull my hat low on my head and sink down farther into my seat. In case someone is able to see a shadow, it will look like someone smaller is driving.
I hit the garage opener when I pull into the driveway. I stare at the big white house in front of me, and my stomach drops. I have nothing that could compare to this right here. It’s two stories with big columns and a wrap-around porch. It screams money.
I shove that thought far from my mind and drive through the open doors. As soon as I'm parked, I hit the button to close the garage doors behind me. "Ready?" I say. Diesel, Reaper, and Grayson raise up from the back seat. Without talking, we all get out. We're all on mission mode. All of our minds are on the prize right now.
One of Walker and Nash's guys has already hacked into the video feed for the security camera here. If Bruno happens to be watching, he's going to see an old video of Allison coming into the house. He'll see her go into the kitchen, do a few things, put a few things away, and then sit on the couch to read. His guys made hours of tape because we weren't sure how long we would be here, but I honestly don't think we'll need it.
I'm getting the same prickle on my neck as when shit is about to go down. I've learned to trust my gut, and my gut tells me that it's time to get ready. We get everything set up and are all stationed throughout the house, keeping an eye on all angles of the perimeter. It doesn’t take long before silence is broken. Grayson is the first one to talk. "So what's going on with you and Allison?"
I peek out the blinds, watching for any movement. I'm listening to the guys breathing into the earpiece of my radio. "Nothing. And what, do we gossip now when we're on a mission?" Grayson is quiet for all of one minute. "I'm just saying it doesn't seem like nothing." "Mind your own business, Gray," I tell him, but I should have known that's not going to shut him up.
"All I'm saying is I've seen a change in you this week. If you like her, just don't let her walk out of your life."
I grunt. "Oh yeah, if we’re talking about our love lives, why don’t you talk about why you’re wearing some damn wedding ring on your dog tags, brother? Let’s talk about that.”
I know I’m frustrated and shouldn’t be taking it out on Gray. He hasn’t been with us that long, and for the most part, he’s a good dude. He keeps to himself, but he never flakes on any mission, he’s a perfect shot, and he handles his shit.
His silence is almost deafening. It takes him a good minute to respond. “I wear this ring around my neck because I’m married, asshole, and I fucked up. I’m trying to save your sorry ass from doing the same thing.”
Fuck. I groan into the air. Of course I’m going to stick my foot in it. I don’t even have the heart to get on to him for calling me an asshole at this point. I deserved it. “Thanks for the tip, Gray. Now can we get to work? We got company. Side street, two o’clock."
There's a car that just drove up and parked on the side of the road. A man gets out and looks up and down before cutting across the lawn, heading toward the house we're in. I let the blind go and walk quietly down the steps. "He’s heading for the front door. I got this," I tell the guys as I make my way to the front foyer. Just as I'm taking the last step, I can see the knob turning in front of me. I step behind the door, and the man walks quietly in. From pictures, I already know that it's Bruno, and he has a gun in his hand. I won't lie. I had hoped this would be harder, that maybe I would get to take some of my frustrations out on him, fuck, at least get a few punches in.
I walk up behind him, knock the gun from his hand, and restrain him. He grunts and tries to fight, but he's no match for me. I have him handcuffed and face planted onto the hardwood floor in no time. He's yelling as the other guys all come running down the stairs. We all stare at each other in amazement because missions never go this easily. We're obviously dealing with someone that is a complete amateur. I should feel good. I mean, our mission is accomplished. Allison is no longer in danger. She can get her life back together. So why do I feel so fucked up right now?