Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 117494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“If we don’t want to have the guys digging graves out back, I’m going to need three months,” I told him. “At the least. I also need that time to do the initial job.”
“The window for our move is gonna be tight,” he countered.
I grunted because selfishly, I was okay with that.
“Gloves made his choice,” he said in a low voice. “We’ve upheld his wishes, helped the mother and one sister. We’re moving forward.”
I ground my teeth. It wasn’t right.
“What about the other sister?” Max asked.
“She wanted us gone, so we split.”
“You still think she’ll be a problem?”
The way he said that… I didn’t get a good feeling. Killing wasn’t something I second-guessed—not now, not after so long in the service and after doing this life. There was no way up if you didn’t take a life. But I didn’t want it to come to that with Kali.
“We did what she wanted so why would she be a problem?” I asked. It was the most non-answer I’ve ever given him.
“What the fuck does that mean?”
I gripped the phone tighter, hearing laughter burst out as The Bonfire’s doors opened. Some of the guys spilled onto the sidewalk, their arms around some sweet butts.
“I gotta go, Prez. There’s not a lot of privacy where I’m at.”
“You set on those three months?” he asked.
I’d stood up from my bench, but paused. “No ditches need to be dug in that timeframe.”
“Make it happen because I’m not being bitch for the fucking Estrada cartel anymore.”
With that, he hung up. He’d said his piece. I’d said mine. I got the extension I wanted, and he’d ended with a reminder of what all this was for.
Max made a call years ago and got us in business with a cartel.
That cartel had been weakened over the last year. No one knew why or how it happened, but it did. We’d voted, and all of the Red Demons wanted out from under the cartel’s thumb.
“Ghost.” Stripes came toward me, a beer in one hand. He glanced up and down the street, which was empty except for a few Frisco residents driving through. “We gotta problem with Roadie’s lay or sweetie, or whatever the fuck she is.”
I grinned. I meant what I’d said to Maxwell. Stripes was smart, and he could be an asset, but also, he was maybe too smart. He was the kind who could mastermind shit without blinking an eye. That made me think he could work something against us, and we’d never see it coming. I wasn’t sure if he had the balls, but we’d see. He was young and had caught the eye of more than a handful of women on our trip, but to my knowledge, he hadn’t taken any of them to bed.
Another weird thing about him.
“Gloves’ sister?”
He gave me a tight nod, which told me he agreed with my sentiment. Claudia Hinton was a problem. She’d followed us on our trip, driving separately with a couple of her friends, but when we set up shop here, she’d stayed put.
“What’s going on?”
“She’s throwing a fit—found Roadie balls deep in her friend. The two are catfighting.”
Well, shit. I sighed. “Get Roadie out here,” I barked, knowing Stripes would repeat it exactly that way.
He disappeared with a nod, and a few moments later, Roadie hurried his ass out here, zipping up his pants at the same time.
I gave him a look. “Your two bitches are fighting and you didn’t find the time to put your dick away?”
He gave me a lopsided grin, raking his hand through his hair. “Hey, man.”
“Hey, man, my ass. What the fuck you think you’re doing?”
His eyes widened, and he dropped a bit of that grin. Straightening up, he swallowed. “You mean the girls?”
“I mean Gloves’ sister. She’s Gloves’ sister. You forget what we’re asking him to do? And you’re what? She gonna be your old lady? A sweetie? If she’s a lay, it’s a long fucking lay. You think Gloves will be happy if she turns into a sweet butt?”
That grin was gone, and panic crept in. He blanched. “I didn’t really think it through, to be honest.”
“No shit.”
He grimaced again, rubbing a hand over his face. “Fuck. What do I do, Ghost?”
“You don’t want her to be a sweetie?” I knew he wasn’t mature enough to take on an old lady.
He considered it, regret written all over his face. He went so white he looked like Casper. This fucking idiot.
“She’s followed us the whole route,” I pointed out. “No one’s said anything because of who her brother is. Now you’ve created this situation, and you better be real fucking thoughtful in the way you’re going to fix it.”
“I don’t want a sweetie, but…”
He was considering it.
Goddamn. He’d tell her the words, she’d be over the moon, and he’d be back inside her friend by the end of the same night.