Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
See what you can dig up on Bean.
I haven’t told Rose some of the finer details of our latest revelation. Like Nolan being blackmailed and who’s blackmailing him.
“Where’s Beau?” she asks. “I need her help with the spa’s color palette.” She smiles wide. “The spa that’s going to be finished anytime so we can decorate. Right?”
I ignore her, having a little natter with Maggie while I walk up and down the kitchen, winding down, thinking calming thoughts. Before I go out and kill a few men.
“Right?” she prompts.
“I thought you’d be distracted by the new land you’ve obtained,” I mutter. “Permits, plans, fancy furniture.”
“It’s all in hand, dear.”
I growl at her as I hand our daughter over. “You look delightfully fucked this morning.”
She smirks. “When are you telling him?”
Kill my buzz, why don’t you? I feel a stressed sweat coming on. “I don’t know.” Of all the shit I have to deal with, I’m looking forward to that problem the least.
“He needs to know,” James says, checking his watch.
“Agreed.” Nolan doesn’t win that fight. “But for now, we need Brad’s head on straight.” I drop a kiss on Rose’s forehead. “Where’s the kid?”
“Showering. He should be at school.” She sighs. I agree. He should. “He wanted to see Barney. I said no.”
“Come on, Rose. Give the kid a break.”
Her indignance is fierce. She sees any intervention as me questioning her mothering skills. “He threatened to stab a kid, Danny.” She pushes her face close, her eyes as fierce as her indignance. “With your shiny gold letter opener.”
“Such emphasis put on yours,” I reply, making sure she sees my fierceness. “Is it my fault?”
“No.”
“Is it the kid’s fault?”
“No.”
“No, it’s Preston Bean’s father’s fault.”
“And you’re leaving that situation well alone. Right?”
“You’re firing a lot of rights? this morning, baby.” I push my face into her cheek. “I told you not to worry. I’ve got other shit to deal with at the moment.”
“Like shoot-outs.”
“Exactly.” I turn her and pat her bottom. “Have a lovely day, dear.” I give Tank a nod when he immediately falls into position like the mind-reading robot he is.
“Right.” I give my attention to James and Otto, frowning to myself. “Okay. My office. Now.” I march out across the foyer and down the corridor, pushing my way through the door and doing what I always do when I enter—breathe in my old man and his lingering scent that’s still embedded into every thread of fabric. Minus the rug that’s been replaced a few times.
“What bright spark thought I could retire, eh, Pops?” I sit at the desk and open the drawer, pulling out the letter opener, smiling at the blade as I spin it. Then the photo of Pops. He thought he took the secret of Brad’s parents to the grave with him. He should have given Brad more credit. Bombshell after bombshell. And where the hell has that Russian fuckhead put his body? “I’ll find you, Pops.” I slip the photo back into the drawer when the men file in. And Goldie. She looks around. “Where’s Brad?”
“Going to the club.”
“Alone?”
“No, not alone.” I point to the couch. “Sit.”
She lowers, but not without her usual attitude.
“I’ve got Fury on him.” I rest back in my chair. “I need him not to be here while I get a debrief.” So much has happened the past few days, I’ve forgotten who I’m supposed to be killing.
“I have something,” Otto says, winning the attention of everyone in the room, naturally.
“Go on.”
“I picked up on a sale of a derelict warehouse by MIA.”
“Okay.”
“It was paid for by wire transfer from a bank in Moscow.” He taps away at his keyboard so casually. “Naturally, such activity promoted me to investigate further.”
“Naturally,” I murmur, noticing James shaking my head in amazement.
“And I found another unit half a mile up the dirt track that’s been paid for by wire transfer from a bank in Mexico City.”
My mouth falls open. “That’s kind of convenient.”
“I thought so too.” He snaps the lid of his laptop closed. “So, given the evidence, I’d say the Russians and the Mexicans, both of which have beefs with us, might be joining forces.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same,” I say, thoughtful. “That’s quite a force.” There’s familiar worry on everyone’s faces. “And to add to our problems, we’ve got Bernard King as the possible supplier of their weaponry.” I smile. “Fabulous. Oh, and let’s not forget the few drive-bys and the fact that Amber Kendrick’s body’s just turned up.” For fuck’s sake. “I need some breakfast.” I get up and go to the bar, pouring myself a Scotch, necking it. “And in addition, Daniel’s school principal threw him out as a direct result of a cop called Bean who’s been trying to blackmail Nolan for information on us in return for keeping his mouth shut about the fact that Nolan is Brad’s kid.” I exhale, smiling. “Everyone clear?”