by Marie James
“She’s not a child you idiot. She’s seventeen. That’s technically legal to fuck in New Mexico,” Snatch says.
Kincaid’s head snaps up, and he glares at him.
Snatch holds his hands up in mock surrender. “I mean, I wouldn’t fuck a seventeen-year-old,” he backpedals.
“And neither will Kid. Just,” he shakes his head as he searches for the words. “Just leave him the fuck alone. This is hard enough for him.”
Snatch snickers when our President says the word hard. His laugh actually pulls a grin from Kincaid before he grows serious again.
“Kid and Bryan are heading to Vegas, and I need you two to go with Shadow. I know there’s got to be something he missed in Tampa before he bolted out of there. He’s not trained the way you are.” The pointed look in my direction tells me everything I need to know. Bryan is emotionally involved in this and not seeing the full picture. The concern in his eyes also means this may be a little more dangerous than Bryan thinks.
Snatch and I both nod, but I can’t help the grin that spreads on my face. Tampa? Girls wearing bikinis and down for just about anything. I’m already picturing the tan, thick ass Cuban woman who will no doubt be sinking down on my cock. I look over at Snatch, checking to see if he has the same reaction. The sparkle in his eyes is all I need to see.
“No,” Kincaid says cutting into the oiled up fantasy of Snatch and I double teaming a beautiful woman. “There’s no time to play, guys.”
Snatch’s head shifts back a few inches, affronted at the implication. “We’d never play before all of the work was done, Prez. You know that.”
I cock an eyebrow over at him. Speak for yourself. My cock is twitching in my jeans at the thought of what kind of pussy we could get into while out of town.
Kincaid stands and leaves the conference room without another word.
Snatch turns to me. “Whatcha wanna do tonight?”
I shrug. He knows I’m pretty much up for anything.
“I don’t really feel like leaving the clubhouse,” he says as we walk toward the door. “We could see if Snapper wants to play.”
I chuckle. “All of the girls were literally drawing straws on who got to fuck Bryan tonight. No sooner was he ten feet through the door, and they were in the kitchen. Snapper was leading the crew, so my guess is she cheated to win.”
“Jake’s?” he asks.
I scan the living room, finding a couple of the members just hanging around, shooting the shit, and drinking some beer, pretty calm compared to the way things were before Emmalyn and Khloe showed up. It’s still a pretty decent party once they go to bed for the night, but we’ve been instructed to keep things tame in their presence.
I don’t see Bryan anywhere, but Snapper is sitting at the end of the couch, frustration pulling at her brow as she inspects her fingernails. Seeing the exact same thing, Snatch slaps me in the chest. We grin at each other before he calls out to her.
“Hey, Red.”
Excitement fills her eyes, the disappointment fading as if it were never there, to begin with. She scurries off of the couch and makes her way across the room to where we’re standing. I bite my bottom lip as I watch her hips sway.
“Boys,” she purrs placing a hand on each of our chests. “Wanna play?”
My eyes can’t be bothered to leave the expanse of her chest. The ripped tank top she’s wearing sans bra has every ounce of my concentration.
“Can you handle both of us tonight, doll?” The gravel of Snatch’s voice fills my ears until I can’t distinguish if it’s Snapper or him that’s making my cock throb in my jeans.
She giggles as if his question is the silliest thing she’s ever heard. “I’m going to drain both of you dry.”
She steps between us, heading toward the hall that leads to the rooms.
“Fuck,” Snatch mutters as we both turn to see the cheeks of her ass hanging out of the bottom of her cutoff shorts.
“Grab a couple bottles of water and some snacks, fellas. It’s going to be a long night.”
Chapter 2
Snatch
The putrid smell hits us before we clear the landing on the second floor. Death, but more distinctively, decay, is something Itchy, Shadow, and I encounter more often than we’d like to. Today is no exception.
“How long has it been since Bryan spoke with this girl’s dad?” Itchy asks as Shadow toes the door open with the tip of his boot.
“Less than a week,” Shadow says as we all file into the tiny apartment.
“He must’ve died not long after,” I say resisting the urge to cover my mouth and nose with my forearm. There’s only so much about the smell that you can get accustomed to.
“Overdose,” Itchy says pointing at the drug paraphernalia near the body.
“Sad,” I mutter as we all stand just inside.
“Probably for the best,” Shadow adds. “Let’s back out of here, call the cops, and let them deal with this. We’ll come back this evening after they’ve removed the body.”
It goes without saying that he’ll call the police anonymously to report the smell. We don’t need Tampa PD on our asses asking questions about an abduction they won’t even bother to work. The neighborhood is shit, and they have bigger cases to work on, but we’d get the third degree because they’ll no doubt feel like we’re here stepping on their toes. Jurisdiction wars aren't something we ever want to involve ourselves with since we have no type of authority here in Florida, and this isn’t a case we’d need to call favors in for anyways.
Shadow makes the call as we head back out to the SUV. There’s no sense in checking the littered parking lot for evidence. It’s been days since she was taken, and with the amount of trash all around, we’d never be able to determine what is related to her case and what isn’t.
“This place is ridiculous,” Itchy mutters as we stand beside the SUV and wait for Shadow to get off of the phone.
“Yeah,” I agree looking around the area. “Crazy that slums like this exist in America. I’d expect this in Ecuador or Cuba.”
“Don’t even get me started on how our government doesn’t take care of domestic issues before sticking their nose in other country’s business.”
“Preaching to the choir,” Shadow says after hanging up and tugging open the driver’s side door.
We drive in silence to the hotel room, something we hadn’t planned on having to do. We’d expected to show up, find what we need, and hop right back on the jet by nightfall. The dead body on the sofa threw a wrench in that plan. Now we have to bunk up for the night, wait for the police to finish up at the apartment, and pray they don’t spend all damn night.
“It’s pretty open and shut,” Itchy says as if he can read my mind. “Shouldn’t take them long. They’ve got bigger shit to deal with than spending all day on some junkie who couldn’t handle his heroin.”
I nod in agreement. “Did Bryan say how close this girl is to her dad?”
“I don’t think he knows her that well. My impression is they had like one date and she was snatched up after she left his place. He didn’t have many details,” Shadow answers as we pull up to the hotel.
“What’s the game plan?” Itchy asks as we pile out of the SUV and grab our bags from the back. We may not have anticipated staying, but we always pack just in case.
“Well,” Shadow says with a smirk so familiar I already know what’s coming. “I’m going back to New Mexico tonight. You guys will head back to the apartment tonight or first thing in the morning.”
“What are you expecting we’ll find?” Itchy asks.
Shadow shrugs. “I’ll be honest. I don’t expect much, but due diligence means we at least check it out. Maybe you guys can get her stuff into storage. I don’t imagine she’ll want to go back to that shit hole once she gets back home.”
“No doubt,” Itchy agrees.
Ten minutes later, after grabbing a room and tossing our shit on the beds, we’re headed back to the airport to drop Shadow off with t
he promise he’ll send the jet back for us to return home tomorrow.
“Wanna grab something to eat?” I ask as we pull off the tarmac before Shadow has even climbed the short set of stairs into the plane.
“I could eat,” Itchy mutters looking out the window.
“Something on your mind?” I prod in reaction to his sudden sullen mood.
He shakes his head but says nothing more. He’s been rather broody lately, which is completely unlike the guy who quickly became my best friend after he joined Cerberus a couple of years ago.
We’re both known to be the jokesters and clowns of the MC, but he’s acting more like Kincaid’s brother Dominic, all short answers and shitty attitude.
I don’t bother asking him what he wants to eat. I know everything he likes and what he doesn’t.
“Tacos,” I say with honest enthusiasm. All food in Tampa is seasoned with a Cuban flare and beyond delicious.
“Perfect,” he responds, genuine contentment in his voice as he looks up at the hole-in-the-wall restaurant tucked behind a strip center.
“So what?” Itchy begins as we make our way into the near-empty building. “We eat, find some hot chick to plow, and then go back and deal with this girl’s apartment?”
I look down at my watch. “It might be a little early in the day to find a chick.”
It’s just after one in the afternoon, and Tampa is known for its nightlife.
He gives me a look over his shoulder as he steps up to the counter to order. “Really? Doubting my skills?”
I laugh at his egotistical attitude. “I have no doubt you could find a chick to hook up with, but I question the quality of what you’re going to end up with in the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday.”
His devious challenge of a grin is all I get, and an hour later we’re sitting at a small table in an open air mall as he has his pick of women.
One woman, sitting only two tables away with two friends can’t keep her eyes off of us or her teeth from biting her bottom lip.
“What do you think?” Itchy asks just before bringing the glass rim of his beer to his lips.
I wink at the woman, almost groaning when her legs inch apart a fraction at my attention, hating that the shadow from her short skirt is hiding what I desire to see most. “I think she’s perfect for a little afternoon fun.”
“Think we can convince her friends also?” His hopeful voice pulls my eyes from the tanned goddess and back to his.
“I think she’ll do fine.” He knows orgies aren’t really my thing. I’m known to dabble some with larger groups, but a plain Jane three-way is always my go-to form of entertainment.
He hitches his head, his overly long hair falling into his eyes. He doesn’t even bother to push it away, and it only adds to the mystique.
It’s the beard; I think keeping my eyes on him rather than the woman I can see sauntering up to our table from my peripheral vision.
“Hey guys,” she coos when she’s less than a foot away from my arm. Golden skin, long dark hair, and legs that lead up to the thickest ass I’ve seen in a long time.
“Hey,” Itchy says, scooting his chair away from the table a few inches.
Brazenly, she doesn’t bother with the chair but sits right in his lap. I’ll never question his ability to score again. Hell, at this point I would agree with him if he told me he could fuck a preacher’s wife in the middle of Sunday service.
“You boys in town for long?” The thick accent flows from her plump lips shooting straight to my cock. She’s well aware of how the afternoon is going to go, and from the way she’s running her long red fingernail down Itchy’s chest while eye-fucking me, I can tell we’re not going to have to do much convincing when she finds out we’re both going to take pleasure in her.
“Just long enough to fuck you so good you’ll beg us to take you along when we leave,” Itchy whispers against her neck.
Her teeth scrape over her bottom lip again as she cups his thick cock on top of his jeans.
“Is that so?” she purrs, eyes sparking with a fierce lust.
“Guaranteed,” I respond, speaking for the first time since she joined us.
“My apartment is right around the corner,” she offers, standing from my friend’s lap and reaching for both of our hands. “Don’t want to waste any time, do we?”
I don’t miss the wink she throws to her two friends a couple of tables away. They both roll their eyes but smile at her as she leads us back to her apartment. We allow it for the time being. Once we get her in private, the dominance and power exchange will flip.
“I fucking love Tampa,” Itchy says as he adjusts his cock while waiting for her to unlock her door.
Chapter 3
Itchy
“They didn’t say,” I tell Snatch as he assembles his weapon.
“That sucks,” Snatch says shaking his head slightly before going back to work on his weapon.
Kid was hurt in Vegas because of the bastards we’re about to take down. His short-term memory is wiped, and he fucked his relationship up with Khloe by fucking Snapper the day he got back to the clubhouse. I’d assumed he’d fuck a hooker while in Vegas, but he got hurt before he had the chance. The asshole waited until he got back, right in front Khloe’s face and chose one of the club girls. Snapper is a hell of a lay, but she’s about as devious as they come.
We just arrived in Vegas on Thursday, and it’s Tuesday now, the night everything is supposed to go down. At the command center a couple of miles away from The Golden Dragon where Aviana Maguire is being held with at least a half-dozen other women, we’re getting ready to take over SINdicate tonight.
The FBI is also on the case. Apparently, Vincent “Vinnie” Sinclair has been on their radar for some time. The girls in the glorified whore house have been less of a concern for them because their focus has been on the weapons, drugs, and murders they’re suspected of.
Shadow ran into them while doing re-con earlier this week. They weren’t very happy when they realized Cerberus was on the scene, but after a phone call to the Director, there was a sudden shift in the focus of their investigation. Begrudgingly, they’re now on board with the direction tonight needs to go. Shadow has ceded pseudo control to them, since they have jurisdiction, and from the outside, Cerberus looks like some rogue, vigilante group. There are three places the teams are split to raid tonight: The floor where Aviana is being kept, a place referred to as The Cat House, where they house the hookers Sinclair forces on the street, and the warehouse where we’ve discovered the cache of weapons and drugs are being kept.
All Cerberus members will be involved in the raid on The Golden Dragon, Aviana Maguire is our sole purpose for being in Vegas, and that’s where our resources will lie.
“These are some of the main players,” Shadow says slapping down a paper with twelve mugshots on them. He walks around and hands some of the other guys a copy of the same sheet. “We don’t anticipate Sinclair being up there tonight. Last report said he was at the warehouse prepping a shipment of coke for delivery.”
I feel the warmth of Snatch’s body as he leans over my back to study the photo lineup.
“They all look like douches,” he mutters, unaware of how his hot breath on my neck makes my cock twitch in my jeans.
I clear my throat, doing my best to push images of our time in Tampa from my mind. As much as I’d like to ruminate on the way his muscular thighs felt against mine while we double-teamed that sexy as fuck woman for hours, now isn’t the time or place.
“I recognize this motherfucker,” Snatch says as he reaches up and points to the scarred face of a guy identified as Franklin “Frankie” Moretti. “He’s on one of our watch lists.”
I grunt, the only response I can muster as his hand brushes against my arm.
“This one too,” he adds pointing at another guy.
I hand him the paper over my shoulder and take a step away, unable to handle the contact and closeness any longer.
How fucked up is
it that I’m standing here fantasizing about my straight best friend when we’re supposed to be preparing for a raid on assholes who deal in the flesh trade? I resign myself to only feeling the slide of his cock against mine while we fuck a chick together and finish getting my gear ready.
“You need to pull your head out of your ass,” he mutters catching onto my sudden change in attitude.
“I’m fine,” I grumble popping a clip into my HK416. “These types of guys just piss me off.”
“Same for all of us, brother,” he says slapping my back before going over to talk to Shadow and the FBI Agent who identified himself as Jones earlier.
I’ve always been attracted to the tattooed motherfucker, but recently it’s begun to interfere with our friendship. I avoid him as much as I can, which isn’t much because staying to myself will only raise questions I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to answer. When we do hang out, if there’s not a girl between us I’m in a shitty mood, and he’s picking up on it more lately.
I need something to refocus on, or I need to get the fuck away from Cerberus for a while. It’s the thought of never seeing him that makes my chest ache.
“Anything serious we need to worry about with these assholes?” Ace asks from the other side of the room.
Jones speaks up since he knows more about them. “They’re all Family rejects, associates to a couple of Made Men.”
“Which Family?” Ace interjects.
“All of them,” Jones answers. “They’re like the melting pot of mafia rejects. Sinclair’s only at the top because he’s got some legit Family blood in him and weak ties to Chicago. We haven’t figured out why the extended families in Vegas haven’t given them their walking papers yet.”
“No shit,” Snatch mutters.
“We suspect,” Jones continues, “that SINdicate is a front for the bigger families here, but that’s just speculation. We hope to know more once the dust settles tonight.”
Shadow’s phone rings and all sound in the small room ceases. He’s been waiting for the call to confirm that Bryan is inside which is our queue to enter. He hangs up, gives us the signal that it’s time to roll out, and we jump into action.
