Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 66977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I shift my body and stare upward at the same time Consuelos states, “Greatest western of all time has got to go to El Topo.” She keeps her weapon pointed downward at the corpse she created. “Alejandro Jodorowsky is fucking legendary.” The offhanded shoulder shrug threatens to have me crack a smile. “I mean yeah, I do stunt work now, but I used to dreaaammmm of being in an Alejandro Jodorowsky classic.”
“Yeah, experimental film shit isn’t somethin’ I’ve ever really gotten into.” Aiming my firearm at the door is followed by her doing the same. “But pump enough tequila into the situation, and I’m a lot more willin’ to try.”
“Aren’t we all?” Consuelos good naturedly jabs back.
“Look who almost missed bar trivia with us,” Blu playfully announces while pushing his zip tied captive forward. “I made sure he cancelled his ride share so he could stick around.” Another hard shove sends the assailant straight towards me. “His mouth may be sealed now but before it got that way, he wanted me to tell you that Dead Man should be on the greatest western list, too.” Amusement is thrown in my direction in the form of bouncing eyebrows. “Pun unintended.”
“Blu.”
“Fuck, alright, fine. Great pun very much fucking intended.”
“Mediocre.”
“Fuck you. That shit was super clever.” He forcefully nudges the masked individual onto the nearest barstool. “Sit.” My best friend lifts his own pistol to press against the person’s forehead. “First round is on you, buttercup.”
The three of us rotate our positions so that I’m directly in front for interrogation, leaving them to assist from the sides. “Consuelos, mask.”
Keeping her gun directed at the male with one hand, she uses the other to yank off the item.
Immediately, I lower my weapon at the reveal and grunt in disbelief. “McPherson?”
His expression instantaneously shifts to shock too as he muffle shouts my name in return.
Blu quirks an eyebrow and cautiously investigates, “You two know each other?”
“Yeah,” I motion for Consuelos to rip off the duct tape next, “this hellhound and I go way back.”
Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t kill him.
Especially for coming after Arley.
“Devil Dog, Superman,” Mick McPherson grumbles prior to wiggling his square jaw. “You know the term is fuckin’ Devil Dog.”
“What I don’t know, McPherson, is why your ass is barkin’ around in my backyard.” Holstering my weapon precedes me folding my arms across my chest. “Explain.” The narrowing of my gaze has him swallowing his nervousness. “Quickly.”
“Not much to explain. We were hired to secure a package and eliminate waste.”
“Personal?”
“Contract.” He adjusts himself on the stool. “Through the company.”
“Don’t bullshit me, McPherson. Gunz and Kammo is private security. Not paramilitary.”
“It’s primarily private security, but a few years back, Gunz branched out as a favor to an old special ops buddy. One thing led to another and now…the company does a handful of these a year. Not enough to be on anyone major’s radar – like Haworth – but enough for better baristas in the breakroom and bigger bonuses at Christmas.”
“You have your own fucking baristas?!” Blu gapes in outrage.
“Did they tell you who the package was?”
“Negative.” His brown eyes remain locked on mine. “We were given a photo for confirmation. And that,” he tips his head Consuelos’s direction, “is not the photo.”
“Show me.”
McPherson cuts his gaze over to my second in command who looks completely clueless. “This round’s on you, asshole.”
It takes Blu a moment to realize why our attention is on him, and once he does, he retrieves the device from his back pocket. One swipe wakes the device up. Afterwards, he angles it in front of McPherson for facial recognition, which then unveils a picture of a female the instant it’s confirmed.
Rather than respond to the building ache in my chest over seeing her most recent employee database photo, I simply ask, “That her?”
Blu lifts it up for him to confirm. “Affirmative.”
I nod to my second to put the phone in his pocket for us to have Wiz analyze later. “Were you given any other details on the package itself?”
“No.”
“Do you have any idea who hired you?”
He quickly shakes his head. “You know the drill, Wahl. We don’t look at the package unless we need to. And we don’t look at the receipt unless we’re told to.”
“I’m tellin’ you to.” Closing the small gap between us is accompanied by balling up the collar of his shirt with one hand and yanking him uncomfortably close to my face. “That package is not only Haworth property, she’s my fuckin’ woman.”
His eyes widen to the size of the shitty, round, overhead lights.
“Blacklist her.” Tightening my hold on the fabric mindlessly occurs. “No assignment – of any kind from any company – is to be taken. Let what happened here today be a goddamn PG preview of what’s to come if any other firm so much as thinks about coming after her. Make sure they know that if they do, it’s a declaration of all-out fuckin’ war. We clear?”