by CJ Bishop
RECRUITMENT
Regulators (Book 1)
A Cowboy Gangster novella
CJ BISHOP
___________________________________
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RECRUITMENT: REGULATORS BOOK 1 (A Cowboy Gangster novella)
Copyright © 2021 Audrey M. Snead | CJ Bishop (pen name)
All rights reserved. Including right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by A.M. Snead
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For questions and comments about this book, please contact the author at [email protected]
Written as CJ Bishop
Proper reading Order
#1 – The Phoenix Club series
#2 – The Phoenix Chronicles
#3 – The Cowboy Gangster series
#4 – The Phoenix Wedding series
#5 – Precious Jules (a Cowboy Gangster novella)
#6 – The Innocent (a Cowboy Gangster novel)
#7 – Hope: The Innocent (pt. 2) (a Cowboy Gangster novel)
#8 – Reaper: The Innocent (pt. 3) (a Cowboy Gangster novel)
#9 – Paradise Lost: Lost Book 1 (a Cowboy Gangster novella)
#10 – Innocence Lost: Lost Book 2 (a Cowboy Gangster novel)
#11 – Lost World: Lost Book 3 (a Cowboy Gangster novel)
#12 – Lost & Found: Lost Book 4 (a Cowboy Gangster novel)
#13 – A Little Lost: Lost Book 4 (a Cowboy Gangster novella)
Guilty by Blood (Santiago Family series): Companion Novel to ‘Reaper’
Cowboy Love (A Cowboy Gangster erotic short story)
Cowboy Up (A Cowboy Gangster short story)
Private Invitation (Phoenix Club/Boys of Porn crossover novella)
A Very Phoenix Christmas (A Phoenix Club novella)
Hunted Hearts (stand-alone novel)
Written as A.M. Snead
Lost in Love
Boy in the Shadows
Made to Be Broken
The Brokenhearted Necklace
Home for the Holidays
Change of heart
The Boys We Love (M/M short story collection)
Micah’s Miracle: A Christmas Love Story
Boys of Porn series
Jack: Gideon’s Angels (Vol. 1)
Royal: Gideon’s Angels (Vol. 2)
Special Delivery (Boys of Porn novella)
Private Invitation (Phoenix Club/Boys of Porn crossover novella)
Sean (Curious Boys #1)
Dylan (Curious Boys #2)
Samson (Curious Boys #3)
Haunted Lovers (a Boys of Porn presentation)
Fallen Angels: Fallen Book 1
Fallen Hearts: Fallen Book 2
Soulscape series
Dark Soul
Black Heart
Burning Love
Deadly Devotion
Wander Lust series
Fallen Angel
Broken Halo
Winterhaven series
Slippery Slopes (volume one)
Blackwell Series
Ghost of a Chance
The Ghost of Devon House
This Present Darkness
Love Conquers All series
A Thin Line Between Love & Hate (Original Volume 1)
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
PROLOGUE
…Three Days Earlier…
“Motherfucker!” One punch. Two. Three. Blood sprayed from the nose as the head snapped back and forth. “God.” Fist to the temple. “Damn.” Another to the nose. “Fucking.” Uppercut to the chin. “Shit!” Kick to the chest. The chair went over, taking its restrained occupant with it.
“Ahem.”
Straightening to his full height, bloody fists clenched, the aggressor twisted around. Had his hair been longer, it would now be hanging in his face, fostering the image of a madman. But the short neat style retracted from the wild appearance. He was indeed mad—enraged—but he was no madman.
“Save some scraps for questioning, boss,” Agent Gentry said.
Javier Alvarez grunted and grabbed the chair, hauling it upright. The man strapped to the piece of furniture coughed, spraying bloody spittle down his chin. Alvarez grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked his head back. “Who the fuck was your contact?” He craned his head further back, straining his neck cords. The man’s bruised and bloody face flushed hotter as Alvarez threatened to snap his neck. “Speak, fucker—or I’ll have one of my boys lop off your head with a fucking machete.”
Agent James emerged from the gloom, brandishing the weapon in question. The ebony muscle-man grinned, his pearly whites practically glowing in the poor lighting, and touched the blade to the man’s taut throat. “Just one little flick…” He pressed a little harder. “… and that tight skin will pop like a watermelon rind.”
Eyes bulging, the warden’s face twisted in an ugly scowl. “Fuck you, nigger.”
“Wrong answer, fuck face.” Alvarez punched him in the head. “Try again—who the fuck are you working with? And don’t try to tell me one of these shit-for-brains border agents was the mastermind.”
“Fuck you, too,” Sorensen spit at his captor. “Why would I tell you a fucking thing? You’re going to kill me, either way.”
Alvarez released his hair and the warden’s head fell forward. He craned his neck, one way and then the other. “You’re goddamn right I’m going to kill you—but how you die is up to you. My boys and I… we have no place to be. We can hang out here for days, testing new ways to make you talk.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“A tough bastard, huh?” The senior agent huffed. “You think because you curse and fuck children—that makes you tough?”
“I only fucked one.” He snorted. “Yours.”
Alvarez smashed his elbow into the man’s temple. His left eyeball bulged beyond the socket and didn’t retract. Sorensen’s head lolled and flopped forward, chin striking his chest. Bloody drool oozed over his swollen lips and down onto his shirt. Grabbing his hair again, Alvarez lifted his head. “First of all—you’re a fucking liar. Second—if you think you can piss me off to the point where I just fucking kill you, you’re sorely mistaken. Trust me, motherfucker, it is not in your best interest to piss me off—because it will make me kill you even slower.”
The warden’s dislodged eyeball flickered back and forth, unable to focus. His head sagged backward, then forward, and he grinned, baring bloodstained teeth—some cracked and busted. “You…” He wheezed. “You think taking me out… and shutting down the border station… will save the brats?” He laughed—and wheezed harder, breaking into a fit of coughs.
“You can’t stop it… they’re everywhere… they go all the way to the fucking top.” He sneered. “You’re nothing but an annoying gnat that they’ll slap down so fucking fast you won’t see it coming.”
“What do you mean the top?”
“Of the fucking government, you dumb shit.” A hoarse chuckle escaped Sorensen. “You think this shit isn’t sanctioned by the officials? Look who’s running this fucking country. You think those bastards don’t have their hands in the honey pot? You think they’re not getting their fair share?” He chuffed. “What’re you going to do, Agent? Go after the top dogs?” He snorted. “Good luck with that. All those kids you saved, all those people at the station… someone’s coming for them, as we speak.” The warden’s grin twisted into a sneer. “You really stepped in it this time when you hijacked their merchandise. You are so fucked.” He cackled and coughed.
Alvarez gripped the back of the chair and leaned in a bit. “I want that name. And you’re damn fucking right—I will work my way to the top, one piece-of-shit trafficker at a time.”
The warden shook his head without offering up a name.
The senior agent snapped his fingers and Gentry walked over and smacked a pair of needle-nose pliers in Alvarez’s palm.
“I want your contact.” He ran the tip of the pointed pliers beneath the warden’s index fingernail and clamped tight. “Everyone in the chain knows something. You give me his name, and he can give me the next name, and so on.”
The warden’s facial muscles twitched as he stared down at the pliers. “I did business with this border station—no one else. I don’t know who called the shots for them.”
“Bullshit.” He began peeling the nail away from the flesh.
“Fuck!”
“The name, Warden—and I’ll rip it off quick.”
“Fuck you!” Foamy spit and blood bubbled in his mouth.
“Search for it.” Alvarez pulled more of the nail loose.
“Fuuck!” His eyes watered and spilled over, seeping out around his bulging left eyeball, trickling down his mangled face.
“When I run out of nails—I will graduate to the clippers and start taking pieces of your cock. Do you really want to hold out till then?”
Sorensen turned his head and glared at the agent. “Fuck!” He sprayed bloody foam spittle at him.
Alvarez smiled coolly. “The name.” When the warden continued to hold back—the agent ripped the nail free and grabbed the next.
“Shafer!” he spit out through clenched teeth. “Robert Shafer.”
“How do we locate him?” Alvarez kept a grip on the middle fingernail.
“You can’t.”
One-third of the nail came up.
“Goddammit!”
“How do we locate him?”
“He always contacted me. He’s very careful. By now, you can bet he already knows the station and prison have been taken out.”
“Will he come after us?”
“Himself? No. His grunt men. Like I said—they’re already on their way.”
“Is Robert Shafer his real name?”
Sorensen snorted. “What do you think?”
I think we’re done here.
Javier Alvarez pulled out his Glock and shot the warden between the eyes.
• • •
The agents remained silent when Alvarez tucked away his weapon and exited the room.
Renley approached the dead man; eyeball bulging out, fingers dripping blood, and brains splattered on the icy concrete floor behind the chair. “I knew the boss was badass but… fuck. Remind me to never piss him off.”
James stroked his chin. “After this… I don’t think you’ll need reminding.”
Quietly retreating, Gentry followed the boss and found him outside, leaning against the exterior wall of the building. Gentry pulled his jacket tighter around him and took up space beside Alvarez.
“It’s fucking cold out here.”
Alvarez nodded.
Clearing his throat, Gentry asked, “Are you okay?”
The boss man didn’t answer right away, and though he’d left his jacket inside, didn’t seem to notice the bitter chill biting at his exposed skin. He stared vacantly across the gravel parking area. “That was my first.”
“First…?”
Alvarez exhaled, his breath steaming on the cold air. “My first… execution.”
“It’s only an execution if you’re killing a human being.” Gentry shifted. “That thing in there was no human being.”
“I know.”
“He was lucky to get a bullet. He deserved much worse.”
“I know that, too.”
“So, why did you shoot him?”
“Because I didn’t have the stomach to give him what he deserved.”
“You seemed to be doing all right with the pliers.”
Alvarez breathed deep and shook his head. “I wasn’t. Beating him—I was okay with. But torture…”
“Why didn’t you turn him over to the gangsters?”
“They went through enough. They did their job. They deserved to go home.”
The two men settled into silence.
Gentry broke the silence. “Do you think he was telling the truth about others on their way here?”
“I don’t know. But we can’t afford to disregard anything he said.”
“What about the kids and families?”
The senior agent stepped away from the wall and ran a bruised, blood-stained hand through his short strands. “We’ll protect them.”
“How?”
“Get them out of here.”
“And take them where? That’s a lot of people to hide.”
Alvarez walked to the entrance and opened the door. “We’re not going to hide them,” he said. “We’re going to find them a safe place to call home.”
In this country? Gentry had his doubts as he followed the boss man inside.
CHAPTER 1
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Kane lay fast asleep, his chest snug against the Egyptian’s back, arm draped over his waist—unfazed by the consistent knocking on the back door. Cochise grumbled and untangled himself from his lover, dropping his feet to the floor as he sat up and rubbed his face.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The Egyptian scowled. It’s too fucking early.
A fact that caused unpleasant needling in his gut; coming from the back door, it was Clint or Axel. They shouldn’t be up and about yet—even with a baby in the house. Why were they banging on his door this early? He was tempted to lie back down and ignore them. His gut insisted he didn’t want to know their purpose.
Just as he was seriously contemplating the notion, footsteps in the hallway—heading for the back door—aborted the plan. He knew the unique step pattern of each of his kids and it was Donald plodding toward the door.
Clint’s deep Southern drawl sifted up the hallway. Cochise sighed and dressed and left the bedroom, meeting Donald in the hall.
“Clint’s here. Says he needs to talk to you about something important.”
Still recuperating from their last job and the trip home, Cochise wasn’t in the mood to hear something important. Important shit disrupted their lives. “Go on back to bed.”
“Is something wrong?”
“No, I’m sure there isn’t.”
“You just got home.” Donald hugged himself, rubbing his arms. “I don’t want you to leave again.”
“I’m not.” Cochise continued down the hall and found Clint in the kitchen. “You better have a good reason for getting me out of bed this early.”
Clint wasted no time getting to the point. “Alvarez called.”
“When?”
“A little over an hour ago.”
Fuck. “What did he want?”
“To talk to us—face-to-face.”
The Egyptian’s eyes narrowed. “If he brings shit down on us after what we did for him—I will bury the fucker. Agent or not, I don’t give a fuck.”
&nb
sp; “It’s nothing like that,” Clint said.
“He told you what it was about?”
“Yes.”
“And?” Cochise pressed, tired and missing his warm bed and the warm body waiting for him in that bed. Barely two days had passed since they arrived home. He was still making up for lost time.
“He didn’t want to say much over the phone,” Clint said, “but it’s about the kids and families at the border station. He said he knows of a sanctuary for them, but he needs help to get them there.”
Fuck times ten. Cochise sat on a stool at the counter and slowly rubbed his mouth. “So, he wants us to leave again—as soon as we get home?”
“Appears so.” Clint leaned on the counter. “I don’t think he would have asked right now if it wasn’t necessary. He said it needs to happen soon.”
Cochise stood and paced the kitchen, his fingers gouging the back of his neck. It had been a thorn in their flesh to leave behind the kids at the station. Neither he nor Clint had been good with just walking away—but they’d had no choice. Then.
The image of Kane asleep down the hall filled his head. This last job away from Kane had almost broken him. He needed his downtime with Kane—and his family.
The kids and families at the border station don’t get the luxury of “downtime”—they don’t get to go home and forget about the shit for a while. They don’t have a fucking home to go to.
“He wants to meet with us in person?”
Clint nodded.
“When? Where?”
“He said he would come to us. I’m supposed to call him back and set up a meeting place.” Clint rubbed his eyes. “I know how you feel. I don’t want to fucking leave again, either.” He looked at the Egyptian. “We don’t have to take the job.”
Cochise stared back at him. “We both know that’s bullshit. Because this isn’t another job—it’s still the same fucking one from before. And we need to finish it.”
• • •
