A sleek, black BMW rolled into the Hallandale Beach entrance and paused. The windows were tinted so dark Aiden couldn’t make out the figure of anyone inside. Which meant it was Dustin.
He waited while the car idled a moment.
Come on, dick-for-brains. I don’t have time for this.
The car turned toward him and slid into an empty spot almost next to the entrance. It wouldn’t be a fast getaway, if that’s what Dustin wanted. Then again, he probably had a goon driving him that didn’t know any better.
“Dustin’s here. Got him?”
“In my sights,” CJ replied. “John?”
“I’ve got him, too.”
They didn’t actually think Dustin would be stupid enough to try to kill Aiden here, but the truth was, it was not in Dustin’s best interests to allow Aiden to continue breathing. Between the Eleventh deal and now handling the bitcoin drive, which Dustin clearly wanted to keep quiet from his boss, Aiden was a liability to the prick.
The driver’s door opened and Dustin got out, large, dark sunglasses perched on his nose.
“Is he wearing women’s sunglasses?” CJ asked.
Aiden grunted. If they weren’t, someone needed to tell the fancy designers Dustin was buying from to lay off. That look wasn’t good for any man.
Dustin strode swiftly toward Aiden, none of the cool composure of a man who’d done a hundred or more drug deals in public.
“Wow.” Aiden uncrossed his arms and held his hands up.
Dustin slowed his pace. He must really be shaken if he wasn’t even trying to be covert.
“What happened to you, man?” Aiden slanted his gaze toward Dustin. He turned and leaned against the Mustang next to Aiden.
“Nothing.”
“You’re looking pretty red. Accident at the tanners?”
“Shut it, DeHart.”
Aiden shrugged and tossed the shake into a nearby garbage can.
“Where is it?” Dustin stared straight ahead, as if the street were the most fascinating thing.
“It’s here. Got my money?”
“I’ve got one better than that—”
“Before you finish that sentence, you should know one of my army buddies is up on a balcony across the street. Now, he’s a mean motherfucker and got a couple of medals for being able to pick guys off.”
Dustin stared at him now, mouth slightly ajar.
Aiden smiled, but he didn’t feel it. “After this, we’re done. I don’t care about your secrets. I don’t want to know who you’ve done wrong. Let’s forget we ever knew each other, okay? I don’t want any trouble.” It was a line. All of it. Dustin would agree, and in a day or so, he’d try to kill Aiden. Except, Dustin didn’t know they were about to put him in a world of hurt tonight.
“You sneaky son of a bitch.”
“Takes one to know one, Ross. My money?”
Dustin flashed an envelope in his jacket pocket. Aiden’s stomach rolled at the thought of touching it, but it was part of the ruse. If he didn’t act like he wanted it, Dustin would be suspicious.
“My drive?”
Aiden sniffed the air, tilting his head sideways. “Is that—pepper spray?”
He couldn’t smell a thing, but he was sure enjoying the way Dustin was fuming right now.
“Fuck you.”
“Man, that shit’s nasty. I’ll give you a tip. Soap or anything else is really only going to activate it. Try scrubbing it with plain water and see if it helps. You must have pissed someone off.” Aiden shook his head and bit the inside of his mouth.
“Really?” Dustin turned to face him a little. “I tried soap earlier and it did burn a bit.”
Damn, had the man never heard of Google?
“Yeah, it’s the soap.”
“Huh. Good to know.”
“It’s in a plastic bag in that trash can.” Aiden thumbed at the receptacle he’d just thrown his shake into.
“Really?”
Aiden shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”
Go on, go dig around in the garbage, you piece of trash.
“Shit.”
Dustin sighed and crossed to the garbage can. He glanced over the edge and wrinkled his nose.
“Did you really have to do that?” CJ asked through the headset.
Aiden merely chuckled.
Dustin reached over the edge and snagged the plastic bag. He pulled it out, holding it at arm’s length despite nothing being on the plastic, and carried it to his car.
This was the moment of truth.
Any crook worth his salt tested the merchandise first. Emery had worked hard to make this new drive look exactly like the old one, down to stripping the casing and putting it on the new one. The question was, would Dustin know what to look for to verify the bitcoins?
The currency was still so new, Aiden didn’t think Dustin would know what he was doing.
Dustin set a laptop on the hood of his car and plugged the drive in.
“Think it’ll work?” CJ asked.
Aiden wanted to reach through the headset and smack the FBI agent. Like he could answer a question at a time like this.
Dustin poked at the keyboard with his index fingers and leaned close to the screen. The minutes dragged on until Aiden started shifting his weight from foot to foot.
“DeHart.” Dustin put an envelope in the same plastic bag he’d had the drive in. He turned toward a second trash can and tossed it in, a stupid grin on his face. “It’s been a pleasure.”
Aiden didn’t smile or wave, he just watched Dustin Ross pack up his equipment and climb in his car. The idiot had to do a three-point turn to get out of the parking lot, something he clearly hadn’t thought about when parking.
“Motherfucker,” Aiden muttered.
“We following him?” CJ asked.
“What’s the point? We know where he’s going. How’s the tracker looking?”
“Transmitting bright and clear.”
Another upside to having switched out the drives was extra space in the case. Emery had whipped up a nice tracking bug to help them keep tabs on where Dustin took the drive.
“Okay, let’s pack up and head out of here.”
Aiden fished the bag out of the garbage and shoved the envelope in his pocket. Whatever money they collected from these gigs went to charity. It was one of the sticking points the Hoovers hated, but Aiden didn’t care. He didn’t technically work for them.
A red car slammed on its brakes along Ocean Boulevard.
“Oh shit, we’ve got company.”
Aiden turned and strode back to the Mustang. He jumped in the driver’s seat and started the car as the red racer turned in.
He’d taken the loaner Mustang to try to avoid Raibel, and now, he was stuck in a car that couldn’t outrun the thug. Which meant he was going to need to talk his way out of this.
Raibel threw his car into park and got out, sauntering toward Aiden in that odd, swaggering manner only thugs had.
“Where the hell did he come from?” CJ said.
“I don’t know. He’s got a gun in his waistband.”
“Well, I’ve got him.”
“Don’t shoot. I’m going to try to talk to him.” He couldn’t be Julian. Killing people wasn’t the answer.
Aiden got out of the car and leaned on the door and roof.
“What’s going on, Canales?”
“I want answers.” Raibel stopped a few feet away, one hand on the gun under his shirt, the other on his hip.
“What’s the question?”
“My cars. My product. You took them.”
Maybe there was a way to spin this. Raibel and the Eleventh would always have hard feelings toward Aiden. There was no changing that. But that didn’t mean they couldn’t have the same goals.
“I didn’t take anything.” He held his hands up. “I might know something, but I didn’t do anything.”
“You’re lying,” Raibel yelled.
He lifted his shirt and Aiden dove i
nto the Mustang, throwing himself sideways. A single gunshot fractured the picturesque afternoon.
Aiden shoved the gearshift into drive and stomped on the accelerator. He peered up over the hood just in time to see Raibel dive out of the way. He clipped the back of the red racer with his front fender, shoving through the narrow opening. The car skidded. He made a hard turn onto Ocean Boulevard.
“Aiden. Aiden!” CJ yelled.
“What?”
“You hit?”
“No.”
“He must have shot the car. Backup is on the way, we’re going to have cops in a minute. Lose that car.” They couldn’t fart around with the cops. CJ could sort it out later and shove it up the Hoovers’ asses that they hadn’t stepped in.
There wasn’t time to make a nice, neat getaway. Even now, Raibel’s car was peeling out of the parking lot. Aiden zipped through traffic, but the radiator gauge was slowly rising and the car just wasn’t accelerating properly.
“Where’s John?” Aiden asked.
“Heading to you.”
He pressed the accelerator to the floor, but the engine didn’t roar to life.
“Shit,” he chanted.
Raibel wasn’t slowing down.
The man was enraged.
Aiden turned onto a smaller street, shifting, asking the car for everything. He needed to split, leave the car, and make a run for it. The red car turned behind him, closing the gap fast. The light at the intersection flickered from yellow to red.
He stomped on the brake just as Raibel bumped him. The momentum sent the back of the car spinning, crashing into the cars parked along the street. The airbag deployed, slamming into his chest harder than the bump. He felt the car tip and his stomach flipped a second before the car tilted at ninety degrees and crashed over on the roof. Aiden hit the top of the car, arms around his head, and rolled to his side.
His vision hazed in and out, sounds were distant and it was hard to grasp his thoughts.
Move.
He needed to move.
“Aiden? Aiden! Talk to me, man, what happened?” That was CJ. What had happened?
Aiden glanced around.
“The car’s upside down.” He dug in his pocket for the knife he never went without. A flick of the wrist and he slashed the airbag to pieces.
Glass crunched outside of the car.
“I’m around the corner, hold on.” CJ sounded frantic.
Aiden rose shakily to all fours inside the ruined Mustang and peered out of the broken windows. A pair of feet were pointed toward him.
He shook his head, but his thoughts were muddy. How hard had he hit the ground?
Raibel crouched next to the car, gun in hand. He lifted the gun, but never saw the man leap out of a truck in the intersection. John sprinted toward them and at the last second pulled back and kicked Raibel with his cowboy boots. Raibel went to the pavement hard. John grabbed the gun and kicked the window. The cracked glass broke further.
Aiden squeezed out, glass scraping his skin, the heated asphalt burning his hands.
“Come on, come on.” John grabbed him under the arm and hauled him up. He had to practically drag Aiden to the waiting pickup truck and threw him in before jumping in the driver’s seat.
“I’ve got him, CJ, but damn man, we need a cleanup. Bad.”
* * *
“Damn it.” Aiden winced as Kathy stitched up a deep gash in his shoulder. He was going to be sore. Hell, his neck already hurt just to turn his head.
“Emery’s here.” CJ tapped his knuckles on the door.
“Get everyone,” Julian said from behind the desk. “Close the garage.”
One by one, the rest of the crew filed in, their faces grim. Emery and Tori were the last to enter. Emery didn’t come to Classic Rides often. Though he was part of their crew, his value to them was in large part his ability to remain unconnected. Today, though, they needed all hands on deck.
“So everyone is on the same page, the FBI claims we do not have enough evidence for them to arrest Evers. Because this import-export company is not directly tied to Evers and we don’t yet have the documentation to prove this is his import guy, they will not back us up. It’s operate as usual.”
He looked around the room, meeting each person’s gaze. No one had said it out loud, but this morning, they’d thought they had it. Deliver the proof to the FBI, let them make a raid, and they were done. But that wasn’t the case. This was one more mile in a long-haul operation.
“We treat this like we would any other hit,” Julian said, taking over. Unlike the others, his job didn’t end with Evers’s arrest. “Get in. Get the product. We’ll take it back to The Shop and chop it, dead-drop the drugs to the FBI. Keep our street cred, don’t blow our cover. If we’re lucky, Evers will trip up, do something stupid, and we’ll grab him in the next couple of weeks.”
Aiden didn’t believe that. A year ago they’d thought the cops were going to nab him. What more evidence did they have now?
“Aiden, do you think Madison can tell us the specs on their security? Help us out there?”
“Yeah, I think she can.” His heart hurt.
If Evers was still a threat, it meant she had to get out of his life. There was no future for her so long as she was in danger. More than anything else, he needed to know she was out there, breathing, happy and alive. Was this mission worth it? It was hard to see the value of what they did when he had nothing. Just a couple of cars, a business, and a growing collection of scars.
* * *
Madison tapped her pencil on the desk, her knee bouncing. She’d raised the blinds so she could look out at the front gates of the airport and watch the cars coming and going. Since she had access to everything, she’d pulled up the security camera footage from the day before to get the make, model, and license plate of the car Michael Evers had arrived in.
She hadn’t heard more from Aiden than a few one-word text messages. She knew Lily was doing “okay,” and when she’d asked if he’d given the drive to Dustin his reply was “No.” Would it kill the man to give her a whole sentence?
It was nearly impossible to concentrate on work. She’d managed only the most necessary of tasks. Other than that, she was staring at the gate.
Her phone rang and she jumped, placing a hand over her chest. She snatched it off the desk. Her heart rose to her throat when she saw Aiden’s name.
“Hello?”
“Hey. I don’t have a lot of time, so I need for you to listen to what I need and tell me if it’s possible.” He sounded—stressed. What was wrong?
“Okay.” Hell, at this point she just wanted to hear from him, even if it was a grocery list.
“Can you tell me the security shifts, if the cameras installed two years ago have been moved, and what kind of plane Evers is using?”
“I can tell you all of that. Give me a second to pull up the schedule and then the flight log.” She rattled off the information he asked for and waited.
“Perfect. Okay, now, I’m going to have to ask you to do something you might not like.”
“What is it?” Did he want an arm or a finger, maybe?
“I’d like for there to be fewer people there tonight. No one will get hurt, but the fewer people around means less chance of anything going wrong. Can you do something about that?”
“Actually . . . I can.” Aiden wouldn’t like it, but he wasn’t exactly asking how it was going to be accomplished.
“Good. Act normal today. Go home like always. I’ll call you tomorrow when it’s all done.”
He ended the call before she could come clean. She stared at the phone for a second before flipping through her recent calls and hitting dial on the third one down.
The line rang three times before a man answered.
“Hey, Dave, it’s Madison. I was thinking—why don’t I take your shift tonight? My bike got stolen and I could use the extra hours. How’s that sound?”
Dave sighed. “That would be awesome. I’ll make it up to you,
I swear.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“You’re the best, Madison.”
“Take care of that arm and get rid of this cold.”
“You’re telling me.”
She chatted with the old security guard a few more minutes before hanging up.
Madison had promised herself things would be different after Dustin. She’d do the right thing. Follow the rules. And now, she was throwing everything out of the window for a man she barely knew and a promise. Her heart said she was doing the right thing, but her head wasn’t sure. Trust sucked sometimes.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aiden rested his head against the side of the van and closed his eyes. They hadn’t been shut more than a second when Tori jabbed him in the ribs.
“Wake up,” she said.
“I’m not asleep.”
“Just making sure.”
“Look alive, people,” Kathy said from the front seat.
“Where are the lights?” CJ said.
Aiden peered between the seats. He’d sat and watched the airport enough to know that at night, it was lit up.
“What’s Emery got on the live feed?” Julian asked.
“Emery?” CJ pressed his cell phone to his ear for a second.
Kathy slowed the van to a near stop.
“She’s what? For fuck’s sake. Drive.” CJ did not sound happy.
“What’s going on?” Aiden asked, dreading the answer.
CJ didn’t reply, only increasing the dread.
What had Madison done?
The last he’d texted her, she was studying. Like a good girl. Had she lied to him?
The van rolled through the open gates of the airport. A figure filled the guard-shack door, shapely, hair piled on top of her head.
His heart dropped.
No. No. No.
Kathy was able to pull the van straight up to the hangar. The moment she slowed, the doors slid open and the crew started to spill out. By the time Aiden made it out, Madison was there, pushing the hangar door open. The lights inside were low, the halogens needing considerable time to warm up.
Drive Page 24
