by A. J. Macey
As soon as the door to my room was shut, blocking out the rest of the world and all the fucked-up shit that came with it, my mind settled and I got to work. Not going to be much use to Kiera if I’m too busy daydreaming like a sap. Pulling out my laptop, I started it up and waited for the searches that I had continually been running for the last several months to check for anything involving Frankie or his corrupt dealings, to spit out any new information. While that worked, I dialed the number of the one person I could trust to give me straight answers.
“Ronin,” Charlie Thompson greeted, his tone flat. We had never truly seen eye to eye after we were out of the military. While we had been on the same side as Rangers, our alliances now lay on opposite sides of the law. Kind of puts a damper on a friendship. Regardless though, somehow he was willing to usually take my calls and answer my questions.
Let’s hope this is one of those times.
“Thompson. Have a question for you.”
“Why does that not surprise me? All right, hit me with it.” His tone was resigned and muffled, his hand no doubt running down his face as he prepared for whatever I needed.
“Has Hill or Sacher been talkative at all since getting arrested?”
“Those two? No, but we’ve had a couple of the lower on the totem pole men squealing up a storm. Though none of it’s actually useful. Why?”
“Does any of it have to do with Frank Casterelli or Jace Corden?” I asked bluntly, not caring enough to be diplomatic in my questioning.
“Jesus, Stone. Please tell me you’re not meddling with the mob. I can barely tolerate that you’re running with that biker crew,” Thompson murmured. The sounds of ruffling followed by a door closing filled the background, telling me he went somewhere where he wouldn’t be heard. It wasn’t exactly considered proper practice for a police lieutenant to be talking to a 1%er.
“Hell no, I hate Frankie ‘Smokes.’ I just need to know if there’s any information,” I countered sharply, irritated he would even think there was a possibility of me working with that sick fuck. “Either from the Alloy Kings or if you’ve heard anything.”
“Ugh.” Charlie groaned another unintelligible response before finally answering. “None that I’ve heard, but I’ll ask some buddies from our old unit. You better have a good reason for needing this information, Ronin, or I’ll arrest you faster than you can fucking say ‘Grave.’”
“Thanks,” I huffed with an eye roll. So reassuring. After we hung up, I got to work.
Whatever Venry is hiding, I plan on finding it.
Kiera
Grabbing a second energy drink from the refrigerator, I mentally prepared myself to work with Garrett. After how my body had reacted when Venry was here, I knew it would be hard to keep my hands to myself. Shaking myself both mentally and physically, I focused on the task at hand. It was officially time to start our moves against Frankie, and I wasn’t about to let any distractions get in the way.
Business first, fucked up feelings for asshole bikers later.
Guess Stone wasn’t completely useless after all.
“All right let’s get this shit figured out,” I commanded, sinking onto one of the stools next to Garrett. We worked in silence, both of us glancing at the ledger on and off as we tried to crack whatever code he used. “Of course he would change his damn code,” I grumbled, pulling the book closer to me as if practically sticking my nose into the pages would help me figure out what they meant. Osmosis or some kind of shit, that’s how that works, right?
“As much as I hate him, have to give him the credit for being thorough,” Garrett agreed reluctantly. “Well, we know it had to do with the Alloy Kings, so I’m going to go out on a limb and say it had to do with their shipments and whatever was laundered through the Solace.”
“Agreed. Problem is though, until we can figure out the exact numbers, it’s not going to be much help. We can’t have a good projection of what’s to come if we can’t figure out exactly what they were doing. Hold on, let me check some shit real quick.” Rising from my stool, I stepped over to the bank of filing cabinets, running through my mental catalogue of what I had taken from Frankie over the years in an attempt to find anything that could be helpful.
I scanned quickly, my fingers running over the edges of the folders as I read through the labels. Aha, here we go, I thought, yanking one of the files out. All of my previous notes on his codes and other gibberish that Frankie used to keep things from prying eyes and listening ears. Reading through the pages and pages of notes, I sank back onto the stool. Garrett must have realized I’d grabbed something of importance because he leaned over and looked through the scribbles with me.
Unfortunately with that also brought his grease and black currant scent. The familiar smell made my heart ache. Before I realized what I was doing, I leaned closer, my nose pressing into his neck to take a deep breath, lured in by the nostalgic sensation of coming home after a long day. A shaky moan escaped me, but it was then that I realized I was sitting there sniffing Garrett like a scratch and sniff sticker, and I yanked away from him.
“Uh,” I muttered, trying to come up with a good excuse as to why I was being a fucking moron, but nothing came to mind. Garrett’s gaze was heated, the emerald depths sparkling as he smirked.
“I missed you too, Kitten,” he countered with a cocksure smile.
Ugh, fuck me.
“Fuck off,” I huffed, shoving him as I focused back on the notebook in my hand. “Let’s get back to work.”
“I’m not the one who decided to sniff the other, Kitten, so was that statement really for me or was it for yourself?” Garrett whispered the last portion of his statement, his breath shifting the hair around my neck in the softest of teases.
“Aww, look at that Kittycat. Garrett really did miss you!” Chase’s teasing voice called out, bringing us out of our little bubble. Garrett glared over his shoulder at Chase, angry that he had butted in, but frankly, I was relieved.
Not just because he interrupted us, as much as I appreciated that, but it helped reassure me that my little assassin was back to normal and no longer beating himself up over Agent Samson.
“Fuck off, assassin,” Garrett ground out, turning back to the worktable. After throwing Chase a wink, I returned to work. Only, Garrett had other plans. “Oh, but Kiera?”
“Yeah?” I asked, glancing over. A heated stare filled with promises and fire met me, Garrett’s smile growing.
“He’s not wrong,” he murmured. As soon as the words left his damned kissable lips, he shot forward, capturing mine with his in a searing kiss that had my toes curling. But before I could come to my senses and stab him with my pen, he pulled back and picked up the notebook to scan the pages, acting as if he hadn’t just completely thrown me off and sent me spiraling down memory lane.
Cursing my body’s reaction, my greedy pussy aching to be filled by Garrett and his pierced cock, I knew then. Even though I had ignored it, buried the feeling over the months, too busy choosing to focus on the mindset that they'd still have to grovel for ages before I would forgive them, I let myself finally acknowledge the one thing I’d refused to admit for the last six months.
I had missed them.
Four hours and several beers to keep my sanity later, we finally cracked the ledger. Unfortunately, the exhilarating sensation of success was quickly dampened when I realized the severity of what we were looking at.
“Shit,” I sighed.
“That’s… a lot of weapons and shipments,” Garrett agreed, his hand rubbing his stubbled jaw. A lot was an understatement. Based on these numbers, the Solace mob’s expansion was huge.
“Well, no one said this would be easy,” I muttered, already tired as I looked at the numbers.
“Nah, but if anyone can do it, it’s us. Or better yet, it’s you, Kitten,” Garrett reassured, sincerity filling his words. “We got this.”
I fucking hope so; otherwise, we are all up shit creek.
December 14th
Sa
turday Midday
Kiera
The winter sun was bright overhead as I climbed out of my truck, my worn boots thudding on the concrete with each step toward the Aces clubhouse. This was the second time being here since coming back, and it wasn’t any easier. Memories swirled around in my head, reminding me of all the things that had happened. Both the good.
And the bad.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door to the bar. Cheryl’s perm that I had been missing over the last few months was flouncing around as she restocked the shelves. Glancing over her shoulder, she smirked and pulled out a glass.
“Wonderin’ when you’d come strolling back in. Heard the rumors but seems like I missed your return,” she stated with a laugh. “Good to see you again, Kiera.”
“Huh, first time I’ve ever heard that before,” I countered with a grin, taking the glass.
“Right.” Cheryl’s response was skeptical as she cocked a brow. “Like Boss and Warden didn’t immediately kiss your ass the moment you stepped foot onto the compound. Nice try.”
Grumbling incoherently into the glass in response, I took a sip. Chuckling, the Aces bartender turned back to stocking the shelves, content on spending the next little while in silence. At least until Brooks came striding in confidently, his icy blue eyes lighting up when he saw me. I couldn’t help but sigh at the mischievous glint.
Here we go.
“Hey, Baby,” he whispered, his sinfully smooth tone like music to my ears, but I was too focused on Cheryl’s knowing glance as she looked back at me to pay much attention to it.
“We ready to get this shit show on the road?” I ground out, downing my drink and shoving off the stool. “I’m assuming you have that work up for me?”
“Of course, it’s in the office.” Tilting his head, Brooks directed us toward the back room. Following behind him, I couldn’t stop my eyes from drifting down to his ass that was clothed in dark wash jeans that hugged just right. Thankfully, I caught what I was doing before he could notice.
Don’t need him knowing I still find him sexy as hell... not yet anyway, my mutinous mind whispered.
“Here.” Brooks held out a stack of crumpled papers for me to take, his eyes watching me intently as I scanned the information.
“At least crumpled up paper is better than napkins,” I muttered. “Glad to see you’ve grown up and gotten big boy tools.”
“Oh, Baby, you know very well about my big boy tools,” he teased, leaning back against the desk’s dented top. Rolling my eyes, I didn’t respond. Mainly because he was right, and I wouldn’t give the prick the satisfaction of knowing so.
“All right, looks like you actually kept up with what I suggested, but I know there’s a few upgraded systems on the market including new cameras with infrared and night vision capabilities, so let’s walk the compound and I can see which ones would be best to replace.”
“Why wouldn’t we replace all of them?” Brooks asked, for once letting his playboy attitude fall to the wayside as we walked back toward the bar and into the cool winter air.
“They’re very expensive, and I don’t know what your leather wearing boy band’s income looks like. I would recommend changing all of them and having all of your guys’ phones set to ding and alarm when there’s anything suspicious with this hit that’s out.”
“Aww, Baby, you’re worried about us.” Brooks’ chest pressed into my arm, the scruff of his beard rubbing against my temple as he whispered in my ear. Glaring at him, I opened my mouth to snap back, but when he smacked my ass and strode ahead of me, I was speechless.
He’s really liking this one-way trip to getting stabbed.
“Come on—” Brooks started, but a familiar lanky frame and reddish-brown hair appeared in the corner of my vision.
“Hey, Kiera, Boss,” Rider greeted respectfully. Taking the opportunity, I darted over and looped my arm through his.
“Oh, thank god, a distraction,” I muttered quietly so only Rider could hear before raising my voice. “Okay, let’s continue on this tour.”
“Mhm,” Brooks hummed skeptically, his lip curling ever so slightly as if he knew what I was doing.
And knowing how perceptive he was, he probably did.
“What’s going on?” Rider asked me when Brooks started back down the cement path.
“He’s being an asshole, and I need someone else around, or I’ll stab him,” I explained.
“So, you mean he’s flirting up a storm, and you’re struggling to not sleep with him,” my impromptu savior countered, a laugh bubbling out at my half-hearted attempt at a glare.
“It’s not my fault,” I huffed defiantly, letting it go as we caught up to Brooks.
Releasing Rider’s elbow, I got to work. First, getting ahold of Brooks’s phone so I could identify the different camera angles and start tallying which cameras would be best for an upgrade. We worked in silence, the two Aces letting me do my job in peace, while they jotted down anything I said or mentioned for their security system. Brick, the burly asshole who had tried to square up on me twice, was working the front gate again. This time though, he must have realized I wasn’t to be messed with because he kept his gaze firmly turned away from me.
Ha, pussy.
“All right, I think that’s everything. If you can swing getting the new cameras for every one, I would definitely recommend that, but if you can’t”—I passed over the notes I had taken—“here’s the ones that need to be switched out. There’s also an updated version of the scanner and gate gear that I highly advise getting if you guys can swing it.”
“What are the costs of these?” Brooks questioned after dismissing Rider, much to my irritation.
There goes my safety net, I grumbled. I outlined the costs of each piece of equipment and what they’d total up to be depending on what they were willing to change out. Brooks kept the conversation professional, taking the security of his members and compound seriously.
“You’ll get some money back if you sell the current equipment. There are a lot of people willing to buy second-hand equipment if it’s been well taken care of,” I told him, a shiver working its way down my spine as the warmth of the bar chased away the chill of the December wind.
“I’ll go crunch some numbers and see what we’ve got real quick. Want to wait at the bar? Figured you’re not a big numbers kind of gal.”
“I mean… if by numbers gal you mean counting the millions from heists, then hell yeah I am, but if you mean actually calculating and shit, nope,” I popped the p at the end, sinking onto the stool I had always claimed as my own. “I’ll keep my ass right here until you get back.”
“Good, be back in just a bit.” With that, I was left alone in the bar as Cheryl took a pile of empty boxes out the front door and to the dumpster.
“Ah, blissful silence.” I sighed contently, grabbing the bottle of liquor and a clean glass. The burn of the alcohol was smooth and welcome as I took a sip, my whirling mind finally settling now that I was away from all of my guys.
The guys. Not mine. Except Chase and Ciar.
The rest can just fuck all of the way off.
Unfortunately though, it seemed that my alone time was going to be short lived as the front door opened and it wasn’t just Cheryl who came strolling in.
“Ah, Kiera,” Haley sneered, her perfectly plucked brow raising as she eyed me. Her black hair had grown out, no longer just brushing the tops of her shoulders. “Wondered when we’d see you around.”
“Why does everyone keep saying that?” I muttered, my words garbled by the glass as I took another sip.
“Didn’t expect to see you around at all again,” she continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “Especially since Boss and Warden found some of the hang-arounds suitable for company.”
I knew she was goading me, dangling a little thread of argument, so I forced myself to sit still. Besides, who cares if they did? I tried to tell myself, but despite my facade, I felt my lip curl up in a snarl as the rage stirred.
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“Yeah, heard they’d been into the sharing thing ever since you ran off,” Olivia tacked on, her awful orange spray tan for once looking somewhat normal versus a walking talking basketball.
“Though, they’re really into sharing a few of the girls. You know, figured they’d need more than one woman to make those two men happy.” Leah rounded out the group and their—no doubt—planned way to piss me off.
And as much as I wish I could say it wasn’t working, that would make me a liar, and we both know that I would never do such a thing.
HA! Yeah right.
“Brooks and Garrett? Sharing? Yeah, like I believe that,” I spouted skeptically.
“Oh, so they didn’t share with you? I know they’ve enjoyed it with Tiff, Jennifer, and Nadia.” That was it, my body no longer under my control as I stood up, slamming my drink as I did so.
No one touches what’s mine.
Chapter 6
December 14th
Saturday Midday
Brooks
It’d be expensive, but we could definitely make it work, I thought, running a hand through my hair. Increase to two or three drops over the next couple weeks and we’d make up the difference easily. With that in mind, I made my way out of the office and back toward my baby.
