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)
Cabrera snagged the keys to one of the pool cars off the hook. “All right, I’m off to go sling some drinks and dodge some sticky fingers at Hawg Wild.”
“I’ll walk you out,” Crew announced.
Nox shared a glance with Finn. One side of his redheaded brother’s mouth pulled up. Then he made an “O” with his fingers on one hand and plunged his index finger from the other in and out several times in the universally known hand motion for fucking.
As soon as the door shut behind Camilla Cabrera and the task force leader, none of them bothered to be quiet about it.
“They’re fucking, aren’t they?” Torres asked.
“My guess,” Nox answered.
“Of course they are,” Finn agreed. “Don’t you notice how tense he gets around her sometimes? Like he’s working hard not to say the wrong thing around us? Something that’ll give away that Cabrera has seen his tiny pickle?”
Decker laugh-snorted. “He’s also struggling not to touch her in front of us. He knows he’ll be flayed open if he does.”
“If he is doing her, her father being one of the top dogs at the DEA must keep him puckered twenty-four-seven,” Finn said.
“No doubt,” Torres answered. “You couldn’t pay me enough to touch one of the top brass’s daughters.”
“Good call since you’re married,” Nox reminded him.
Torres huffed, “I meant if I wasn’t, Fort Nox. In fact, I’d have more than a puckered asshole. I’d have heartburn, indigestion and diarrhea.”
“You sound like a candidate for Pepto Bismol,” Finn laughed. “Should I sing the jingle?”
As he opened his mouth to belt it out, everyone yelled, “NO!” in unison.
Nox’s mouth twisted into a half-grin.
“You don’t sing to Mel, do you?” Torres asked.
“Every night,” Finn boasted and puffed out his chest.
“And she hasn’t smothered you with a pillow yet?” Decker asked.
“Guess not, since I’m sitting here still breathing.”
“Damn shame,” Torres muttered.
When Crew came back through the door, his eyes held a gleam. He looked as guilty as fuck.
They all made kissing noises.
“Fuck off,” he growled.
“You never walk me to my car,” Finn complained.
“Anyway, back to business,” Crew started.
“Speaking of business… You’re giving it to her, aren’t you?” Finn pounded his fist into his palm. “You can tell us. We promise not to tell anyone else. It’ll be our little secret.”
Crew released a loud sigh.
“Why don’t we have security cameras around this place?” Torres wore a mischievous smile.
“Because it would come out of the MC’s funds and the club’s account is still at rock bottom after refurbing this building. We can barely scrape together enough money every month to keep the damn lights on and the water running. That’s why we don’t have fucking security cameras. And you only want them to spy,” Crew accused Torres.
“Of course. We all do. Right?”
“Yep,” Finn answered. “We want to see you sucking face with our newest member.”
“I don’t suck face,” Crew muttered.
“Suck dick?”
“Why are you such a fucking child, Pippi?” Of course Crew had to add a childish nickname to his accusation.
“Nothing wrong with being young at heart.” Finn blinded everyone with a huge smile.
“Anyway, on a more serious note… After Fletch’s call, I’m now wondering if they have anyone installed in the other chapters.”
“I wouldn’t put it past them. La Cosa Nostra tends to be paranoid. I highly doubt they ever trusted an outlaw MC named the Deadly Demons,” Decker said. “Those two organizations aren’t best buddies, they’re business partners. Lots of business partners end up shafting the other.”
“All for the mighty dollar,” Nox mumbled.
“So, what’s our next step?” Finn asked. “How do we prepare for the fallout, J. Crew? Because we all know the Russos aren’t going to simply let it go.”
“I’ll let the AUSA know that they need to hurry the fuck up with these goddamn indictments.”
Torres blew out a breath. “Won’t happen. I have a feeling they plan on hitting the Demons with RICO charges. For that, a grand jury will take a while. Then add on trial time with endless ridiculous motions to dismiss or delay. With dozens of defendants, it’ll also take finesse and top-notch organizational skills.”
“You know Pam’s got the skills to keep shit organized, Torres,” Crew told him, “but time is the issue none of us can control. Not only do we want the grand jury to indict every one of those fuckers—or at least enough of them to scorch the MC to the ground—we want those charges to stick when it comes to the trials. Hell, we need the indictments to make it to trial.”
Decker nodded. “I doubt any of them will flip, either. They know that would be a death sentence.”
“True that,” Finn muttered. “And I agree… Time will not be our friend on this. What happens if shit hits the fan before the teams can go in and sweep them all up?”
Crew frowned. “Then we wait until the dust settles and see who’s left.”