Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Crew tipped his salt-and-pepper head to the side in agreement. “We can do that, too.”
“I have to say,” Torres started, “I’ll miss working with you fuckers. This assignment has been the tits. Unlike the last one I was on.”
Closing down the investigation meant anyone on the team not a federal agent would go back to their regularly scheduled programming. For Nox, he’d go back to patrol at Shadow Valley PD.
Working on the task force was a change he needed after losing Jackie. He would be forever grateful for the opportunity and the new connections he made with members not part of the BAMC.
“Now that Nox has Liyah, he can stop watching the footage from The Peach Pit for his spank bank material,” Finn announced.
Nox grimaced. “You’re welcome to watch it instead. There’s nothing on that stage that remotely makes my dick hard. Unlike you and Rez, apparently.”
Crew burst out laughing. “Damn, the man is definitely on the track back to his former self.”
Rez shot Nox a grin. “Yeah, an asshole like the rest of us. Welcome back to the dark side, Hard Nox.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Anything?”
Fletch’s voice filled Nox’s ear. “Not a fucking word.”
“So, can we safely assume that motherfucker is no longer a Demon?”
“Does it matter if he is or isn’t?” Fletch asked.
“If he is, Crew said they can indict him. If not, we need to get the locals involved to solve that problem since the Demons didn’t,” Nox explained. “Or…”
“Or?” Fletch prodded.
“Or we can serve our own justice.”
Since only silence filled his ears for a few seconds, Nox pulled the cell phone away to make sure the call hadn’t been dropped.
“Who is we?” Fletch finally asked. “Certainly not the whole damn task force.”
“No.”
“Nox…”
“Again, Crew would only guarantee that fucker’s indictment if he’s still a Demon. Otherwise, he wants us to turn over any evidence against T-Bag to the local PD that covers the motel and let them handle it.”
“Well, there you go. Problem solved. And your hands don’t get dirty.”
“Fletch, the man needs a reckoning.”
“I won’t disagree with that. But is having a come to Jesus meeting with one sick bastard worth your careers and possibly your freedom?”
“We would need to be careful how we handle it.”
“Careful would mean going about it the legal way. I’m not sensing that here.”
Nox had to admit, Fletch always had good senses. “We need to guarantee he won’t pull the same bullshit over and over, destroying more women’s lives.”
“I won’t argue the fact that he’s a piece of shit who needs to be wiped. But—”
Nox interrupted him with, “There will always be buts. Life’s full of them, brother.”
Fletch sighed. “Listen, I haven’t seen him. I’ve not heard his name mentioned. He’s not been at any parties. He’s also not been at any church meetings. Within that club, it’s like he never existed. Take that information as you will.”
“Okay, I’ll take that as he was only stripped of his colors. Either that, or he gave up his colors willingly before the Demons could deal with him.”
“It’s possible,” Fletch agreed. “You said he partnered up with Saint in this endeavor?”
“Yeah.”
More silence hit his ears for a few heartbeats. “Okay, I’ll keep a closer eye on Saint when I’m in his presence. However, I’m rarely around him since he’s busy running The Peach Pit.” Fletch cursed under his breath. “Could it be that Saint’s telling Wolf he’s tied up with the strip club when he’s actually running this little side hustle with T-Bone? If so, him not being around much wouldn’t raise any red flags to Wolf, Viper or any of them.”
“Having a meth stash that’s light might,” Nox told him.
“If they were aware of it. Who controls the meth in the stash vehicle at The Peach Pit?”
Fletch’s question was rhetorical since they both knew it was Saint. That meant, skimming meth from that stash would never come under the microscope as long as Saint was managing the strip club.
Nox sighed out a, “Yeah.”
He yanked off his baseball cap and scraped his fingers through his hair, once again scanning the dark parking lot of the motel. While he did that, an SUV pulled up next to T-Bone’s piece-of-shit rust-mobile and a second later, the former prospect got out of the driver’s side to greet the newcomer.
A man climbed out of the vehicle and as the two shook hands, Nox had no doubt money slipped from one palm to the other because a second later, T-Bone jerked his chin toward the motel room door. With a nod, the customer walked through the door and closed it behind him.
Son of a fucking bitch.
This was the fifth john of the night that Nox was aware of.
It took everything in his power not to go over to the motel, kick in the fucking door and pull that woman out of there. But, one, he wasn’t sure if the woman wasn’t a willing participant. Two, it would be a mistake to out himself to T-Bone. And three, he shouldn’t do it alone.