Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
I snatch a pen from his desk, leaning down to start signing. I don’t bother reading the shit. Finn and I have worked together for ten years. I trust the man with my life. He wouldn’t fuck me over. He needs me too goddamn much.
“What’s the situation here?” I ask.
“Same shit, different day.” Finn sighs. “Guerrero and his people are lining up rival cartels and knocking them down. We just cleaned up our third dead body, and word on the street is that we can expect a whole helluva lot more before he’s finished.”
“Jesus Christ,” I mutter. It’s what we expected, but it’s still not what I wanted to hear. A cartel war is the last thing we need popping off. “The guns?”
He hesitates.
“Just tell me.”
“They’re the reason I called you back. The gun we found at the shooting last night is one of ours.”
I close my eyes, hanging my head in defeat. “I almost hoped they'd sent them across the border."
“Me too, but it looks like they’re going to use the fucking weapons we put in their hands to initiate this cartel war.”
“Does Brady know?”
Finn shakes his head. “Didn’t see a reason to tell him. I’m trying to get him transferred off the task force because he feels so fucking guilty. He doesn’t need one more goddamn thing to live with.” He narrows his eyes on me. “And you aren’t going to tell him either.”
I jerk my chin in a nod. “Agreed.”
Finn blinks, suspicion written all over his face. “You actually fucking called him.”
“Yeah.” I finish signing and toss my pen down on his desk, sighing. “You were right.”
A grin slides across his face before he cups a hand around his ear. “Say that again.”
I flip him off, making him grin. “He’s fucked up over it already. No need to add to it, especially since I fully intend to find those fucking guns and get them back.”
I have no fucking clue how we’re going to accomplish that, but one way or another, we’re taking our shit back. If Guerrero wants to start a war, he isn’t going to use our weapons to do it. Fuck that.
Finn cocks his head to the side, eyes narrowed on me. “Something is up with you. You’re being way too fucking reasonable.”
Reasonable? I don’t feel reasonable at all. If anything, I feel less reasonable than ever. In a matter of days, one of the two most important things in the world to me will be in this city, where I’m a goddamn target and a cartel war is brewing. There’s nothing reasonable about that.
The only way to protect her is by stopping Guerrero. I’ll do whatever the fuck I have to do to ensure we accomplish that. I don’t have another choice. Mila will be safe. There is no other option, not one I’m even willing to entertain.
“How do you deal with having your wife in this city?” I ask Finn. He’s been married for a few years now. He rescued his wife from an MC.
“Why? You thinking about bringing Tahani to LA?”
I shake my head, scrubbing a hand down my face. In all the time we’ve talked over the last couple of weeks, I haven’t told him about Mila. Shit, I’ve never told him about Mila.
“I have someone,” I say carefully, not sure how the fuck I even begin to explain that my daughter’s best friend is the only woman I’ve thought about for the last four fucking years. “Someone who’s mattered for a long goddamn time.”
“Mila,” Finn says, shocking the hell out of me. He must see the look on my face because he chuckles. “Motherfucker, I’ve known you for twelve fucking years. You think I didn’t see the way you looked at her at Tahani’s graduation? You think I haven’t noticed that you do as much for her as you do for your kid? You haven’t dated since Tahani started college. I’m old, not fucking blind.”
He’s not that goddamn old. He’s forty-five.
“It’s complicated.”
Finn snorts. “The shit worth it is always complicated, Roman. That’s when you know it’s worth it. The fact that you’ve been hung up on her for four years means something. And I’m guessing the fact that you’re asking me questions about my wife now means that you finally decided to do something about it.”
I jerk my chin in a nod. “She was in Santa Cruz with me.” I exhale a breath. “She’s moving to LA. Three days. I have three days to make sure she’s safe.”
“Shit.” He hauls himself to his feet. “Then why the fuck are we sitting around here? Let’s fucking go.”
By the time I finally make it to the condo, I’m fucking exhausted. Finn and I spent hours hitting up every fucking source I have, looking for info on Guerrero and what he’s doing.
No one knows shit. At least, no one willing to talk. The motherfucker has his people on a tight leash. Anyone else who might have had info about his plans were the first people he took out.