Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
The little shit drew a smile from me. I couldn’t help it. “Dork.” I kissed him back.
“Whatever.” He eased away and rested his head on the pillow. His own smile looked a bit forced, and it hit me that this wasn’t entirely easy for him either.
Maybe these two weeks had meant more to him than he’d anticipated too.
Not that it changed anything, but it felt good, nonetheless.
I cupped his jaw and brushed my thumb over his bottom lip. “You’re gonna make an awesome sniper.”
That brought some light to his gorgeous eyes. “You think so?”
“I know so.” I kissed him once more, firmly, wishing I could linger a lot longer. But it was time to go. I rolled on top of him, then climbed out of his too-tiny bed, and I disposed of the condom before stepping into my jeans.
He sat up with a nice bed head.
I wanted to remember that. How perfect he looked when he was freshly fucked by me.
I put on my tee next, and I patted my pockets to make sure I had everything.
My chest felt a little tight. I didn’t like that one bit.
“Hey, Elliott?”
I glanced at him. “Yeah?”
He radiated awkwardness, and I sensed he was going to put himself out there, not for the first time. It made him braver than me.
“I really hope we see each other again.”
I drew a breath and then swallowed. Fucking hell, this actually hurt. It wasn’t supposed to.
He deserved some honesty from me.
“I’m gonna go,” I said, clearing my throat. “Because…you kinda got me attached, and that wasn’t part of the plan.”
He smiled, without awkwardness, without trepidation, and it widened to show he’d really wanted to hear that. “Fucking feelings, right? Be safe out there, sailor.”
I grinned faintly and shook my head. In another time, in another place… Damn. “You too, Coastie.”
Chapter Six
No one could accuse Vincente of not being accommodating, at least.
At two in the morning, after an extensive debrief of all things Carillo Mesa, a guard showed us the guest rooms upstairs. We were also given carte blanche to anything in the house—within reason, Vincente had said with a gleam in his eyes—and being the cool motherfucker that I was, I asked for a whiteboard or something similar.
My mind was fucked with all the running scenarios and information, and I wanted to get things on paper.
I saw no reason for two guest rooms when each one had two queen beds; besides, I wanted Joel close. It was stupid to get separated in a place like this. So I made the decision that we would share, and our room had a balcony that overlooked the pool area and seemingly never-ending party on the patio. Vincente liked his expensive rugs and ceiling murals. The one in our room portrayed the Blanco family tree. The ceilings on this level were almost domed, and the corners and edges as rounded and smooth as downstairs.
Minutes later, the guard was back, and he wasn’t alone. One woman wheeled in a big easel pad, and another rolled in a cart with drinks and snacks. Oh—a third showed up too. She opened a leather bag filled with neatly folded clothes, brand-new. Before she left with the others, she gestured to the bathroom and said it was fully stocked. And if we had any requests, just hit zero twice on the phone between our beds.
There was money in coke…
Once we were alone, Joel locked the door.
He hadn’t spoken since the introductions downstairs, basically.
His mind had to be swamped too.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” I said. “You wanna go first, or…?”
He shook his head, and it looked like he was leaving it at that—until he cleared his throat. “Why would Vincente give Carillo to us? I don’t believe he couldn’t spare a crew to get the job done himself. It’s going to cost him way more to fund our op.”
I’d thought about that too. It was a good question. “I’m not so sure. I was thinking along the same lines as you, until he brought up Europe. Vincente’s men know the SoCal route like the back of their hands, but Europe is a whole other playing field. It might actually be cheaper to send us. We know the area better, he doesn’t risk losing any manpower, and we don’t have any standing Blanco responsibilities that would be put on hold while we hunt that fucker down.”
Because after tonight, one thing was clear. It wasn’t just Crew and Ryan who were heading to Europe. It was pretty much all of us.
When the painkiller kicked in, I could relax a bit more. The discomfort was just annoying enough to mess with my concentration, and I didn’t have time for that. While Joel showered, I toweled off and dug through the cartel-provided bag of clothes from high-end brands. Nothing could be moderate with these guys. Vincente was going to take every opportunity to display his riches.