by Ivy Black
Tarantula nods. “Yeah, same. Let me fill my guys in on all this, homes. But they want blood for our fallen as much as I do. We’ll touch base and get it on. I want these putos taken out.”
“Agreed,” Prophet says. “Get back to me tomorrow and we’ll lay it all out with you and start making plans.”
Tarantula nods. “All right. We’ll get it hooked up then.”
Tarantula leaves the clubhouse and a moment later, we hear his bike rumble to life. He takes off, making the trek back to his hometown to get his guys on board. Prophet looks over at me and nods.
“Solid plan,” he tells me.
I nod my thanks to him. Spyder looks over at me, still frowning.
“What is it?” I ask.
“It’s good we got a plan to deal with Grease and these militia pricks,” he says. “But what are we gonna do about Rollins and the ATF?”
A grin curls the corner of my mouth upward in a half smile. “I’ve got an idea about that too.”
***
A little while later, Spyder and I walk into the garage to finish tuning up our bikes. Grease is there working on his bike and gives us a nod when we walk in.
“What’s up, fellas?” he greets us.
“What’s up?” I reply then turn back to Spyder. “How many guys is he asking to turn up?”
“Said he wanted seven or eight. Didn’t want a whole parade but enough to handle it if shit goes down,” he responds. “Volunteer only.”
“I don’t blame him, given this shit that’s gone down recently,” I say.
Spyder nods. “You got that right.”
“What’s going on?” Grease asks. “Volunteers for what?”
“Another shipment,” I say. “Except this time, Cort’s bringing it to us instead. We’re going to hook up with him out at the warehouse and unload there. No chance for it to get jacked in transit this time out.”
Grease nods. “When is it?”
“Day after tomorrow,” Spyder replies. “You comin’?”
Grease nods. “Yeah, I’ll be there. Got nothin’ better goin’ on.”
“Great, we’ll let Prophet know we got another body,” I say.
Spyder and I exchange a sly look. The bait’s been set. Now we just need to see if they bite.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Hadley
I’m sitting in the office with my feet up on the desk, Disturbed blaring out of my phone. I’m enjoying a mellow afternoon after running a couple of errands for Brent today. I take a bite of the sandwich I picked up earlier when I was in town. Brent had to go down to San Francisco for a deposition, leaving me alone to work at my own pace. And I decided that even though it’s only eleven o’clock, it was time for lunch.
I’m bopping my head along with “Down with the Sickness” and take a bite of my turkey club hoagie, feeling pretty incredible. Last night up on the bluff had been incredibly hot and of course, that had me feeling good. But it’s more the fact that Milo told me that he loves me that has me walking on sunshine today. I close my eyes and lean back in my seat, replaying the moment in my mind over and over, and every time, it makes me smile.
I feel bad for not saying it back to him. Not that he’d given me much of a chance since he kissed me right after telling me. But the truth of the matter is that I feel it. I think. I mean, of course, there’s the part of me that has never stopped loving Milo. But after we split up, I sort of compartmentalized that. I pushed it to the side, always knowing it was there but never letting myself actively feel it.
Now though, everything’s changed, and I am very actively feeling it again. The emotions that course through me whenever I look into his eyes or hell, whenever I simply think of him, are profound. As strong as they were when we were first together, they seem to be on a completely different plane now. I can’t really explain it but what I feel for him right now is... transcendent. I’ve never felt anything remotely close to what I feel when I’m with Milo.
But I hadn’t been able to say it the other night and I don’t know why. Yeah, he kissed me, cutting off my words but I could have said it after that, and I hesitated. He didn’t seem fazed by it at all. He said he only wanted me to know where he was at, emotionally speaking. And he genuinely didn’t seem to be put off by it or upset that I hadn’t said it in return. It surprised me but in a good way.
It just speaks to how much he has changed. For all his amazing traits, there was a time when Milo could be a little bit insecure and need to sometimes be reassured. He could sometimes be a little jealous. But he’s different now though. He’s more confident and doesn’t seem to suffer that sort of insecurity anymore.
I’ve held myself back emotionally, waiting to see whether this was just an effect of the “honeymoon phase” of coming back into each other’s lives but it doesn’t seem to be. I’ve seen him go through several situations that he would have handled very differently in the past. But watching him today is like watching an entirely new man. It’s like he somehow reached into himself and plucked out the parts of him that caused us problems in the past.
I keep waiting to see him flip back into the old Milo. I keep expecting to see him descend into one of those old dark moods that used to claim him. But he hasn’t. He’s shown no signs of being the same person he used to be. He’s still got that dangerous edge to him I’ve always been attracted to, but the dark clouds that used to hover over him, that always seemed to be his constant companion, seem to have lifted.
I’m so caught up in my haze of happiness and emotion that I don’t even realize I’m not alone until I open my eyes and see him standing in front of my desk. I’m so startled I almost fall over in my chair trying to back away. I manage to keep to my feet but just barely and take a few steps backward. He just smiles and sits down in the chair before my desk and holds his hands up with his palms facing me as if to show that he’s no threat to me.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I finally manage to spit as I push the button on my phone, killing the music.
Rollins chuckles. He crosses his legs and folds his hands in his lap, looking casual and relaxed.
“That’s quite the mouth on you,” he says. “I’d daresay your time with Nitro—excuse me, Milo—is rubbing off on you.”
“Get out. Now.”
“I needed to speak with you, Hadley. Please sit down.”
I look around, searching for an escape route. Rollins is sitting between me and the main door. Behind me is the door to Brent’s office but other than locking myself in, there’s nothing I can do. He doesn’t have a door to the outside in his office. And the emergency exit is in the back of the file room—which I doubt I’d get to before Rollins got to me. I silently kick myself for not taking Robin’s advice about carrying a mace or a stun gun—something to protect myself with. I’d said she was being paranoid but now I see she was being prescient.
He sighs and shakes his head. “I’m not here to hurt you, Hadley. I wouldn’t hurt you. I hope that you believe that.”
“I don’t believe a single word that comes out of your mouth.”
“I’ve never lied to you about anything, Hadley.”
“You’ve stalked me. You’ve broken into my apartment—”
“Do you have evidence of that? I’d imagine that being involved in the law as you are, you’d be familiar with evidentiary rules—”
“Shut up. Just shut up,” I scream.
Knowing I have nowhere to go, that I’ll never get outside before he gets to me, I start looking around for a weapon. I know he’s armed and that doesn’t make me feel any better about this entire situation. As if he can read my thoughts, Rollins sighs and takes his weapon out of his shoulder holster. He ejects the magazine, as well as the round in the chamber, then sets it down on my desk with a hard thump. He pushes it all across the desk toward my chair then folds his hands in his lap again.
“There. Now you can relax,” he says. “Please sit.”
It makes
me feel somewhat better that he willingly disarmed himself—but I’m not crazy about having a weapon near me. I’ve never been comfortable with guns. Knowing the only purpose of guns is to kill something, I’ve never liked being around them. But at least it’s out of his reach so I gingerly take my seat, perching on the edge of it, ready to bolt if I need to.
“What do you want?” I repeat.
“I wanted to talk to you about Milo and the deal I offered him.”
“He gave you his answer.”
He nods. “He did. But I don’t believe he’s seeing the big picture. I don’t think he’s seeing clearly.”
“And why do you say that?”
“Because he’s throwing away a chance to walk free when I take his club down.”
I swallow hard, all my doubts about this whole scenario unfolding again. I know what sort of business the Pharaohs are in and know they very well could result in lengthy prison sentences. It’s something that’s always worried me about Milo. But it’s not my place to tell him how to run his life any more than it’s his place to tell me how to run mine. All I can do is voice my concerns.
“That’s his decision to make,” I say. “I’m not his keeper.”
“Aren’t you together? I’d say you had some say in all of this.”
“Not that it’s your business but our situation is complicated. So I have less say than you might think.”
Immediately after the words passed my lips, I realized it was the wrong thing to say. Rollins’ eyes seem to light up and a slow smile crosses his face. It’s as if my words were a green light or something for him to resume his creepy stalking crap with me. My eyes flick to the gun sitting on my desk—not that I’d know how in the hell to use it broken down like that. Rollins laughs but his smile fades away quickly, and a predatory expression flits across his face.
“All right then how about this, maybe you need to start looking out for your own best interest since it seems obvious Milo doesn’t have them at heart,” he says.
I shake my head. “What are you talking about?”
“I could charge you as an accessory. I can prove that your relationship with Milo has exposed you to the things they’ve done. The things they do,” he says evenly. “Given your knowledge of their dealings, that makes you an accessory.”
“That’s bullshit. To make that case stick, you’d have to prove I know what they’re into. You’d have to provide evidence of that,” I reply. “Do you have evidence, Agent Rollins? Text messages? Emails? Anything? I’d think with you being involved with the law as you are, you’d be familiar with evidentiary rules.”
His expression sours as I throw his words back in his face, and I have to stifle my smile of triumph.
“Believe me when I say I can make your life very uncomfortable, Hadley.”
“You already do.”
“Talk to Milo,” he says. “Make him take the deal.”
I smirk. “As I’m sure you know by now, making Milo do anything he doesn’t want to do is pretty impossible. Might as well try to make the sun rise in the west.”
He sits back in his seat, and the way his eyes roam up and down my body makes me more than uncomfortable. But I don’t want to show him my fear any more than I already have. A guy like Rollins feeds on it. Craves it. I know it’s what fuels him and know better than to show him fear. But standing here, with his creepy, predatory gaze on me, I can’t help it.
I get to my feet and fold my arms over my chest. “I think we’re done here. I’ve got nothing more to say to you.”
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Hadley, you really need to think about this. You need to think about how to protect yourself,” he says. “There’s some serious shit about to come down—”
“I think Milo is right. You have absolutely nothing, and you’re desperately looking for somebody to bail you out,” I hiss. “You’re afraid of going back to your bosses with nothing. So no, I’m not going to help you do anything.”
He shoots to his feet, his face dark with anger. Rollins’ eyes narrow and he’s glaring daggers at me as he clenches his jaw hard enough to crack stone. My heart is thundering in my chest as I snatch up my phone and quickly key in the number for the sheriff’s station.
“Get out of here, or I’ll connect the call,” I say, my voice wavering. “Sheriff Singer will be here in two minutes tops.”
“You don’t think I can tear you apart in two minutes?”
“Maybe. But even if you do, they’ll know it was you,” I shoot back, my voice taking on a harder edge. “You really willing to spend the rest of your life in prison? I bet all those convicts would love to have a law enforcement officer to play with.”
He glowers at me, his eyes promising retribution. And when he reaches forward, I jump back and nearly hit the button to connect the call. But he smirks and picks up the pieces of his gun, though he doesn’t put them all back together.
“You know, you and I could have had somethin’ special,” he says. “I don’t know why you’d choose to spend time with a dirtbag like Milo fucking Ball.”
“Because he’s a better man than you’ll ever be,” I spit.
He scoffs, and I don’t know what it is, maybe it’s his dismissive attitude of Milo, but something feels like it breaks loose inside of me. My fear melts away like ice cream on a hot summer day and that void is filled with rage. In that moment, I’m no longer afraid of him.
“Get out of my office. Now.”
“Last chance to save yourself, Hadley,” he says. “And this is your last chance to have something special with an actual good guy. When I walk out that door, both things go away.”
“Good. Go away because I will never cooperate with you, and I sure as hell will never be with you. So fuck off.”
He looks at me for a long moment, his expression grim. But then he smiles wide and shakes his head like he’s genuinely amused by me.
“Never say never, darlin’,” he says as he turns and heads for the door. “Never say never.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nitro
The day is overcast, and a light mist is falling. A cool breeze soughs through the branches of the trees all around us. I’m standing with Prophet and Cosmo near the door to our off-the-books warehouse. We worked all night to empty the place and get all our product out of there and to a secondary location for temporary holding.
Just in case things go sideways today, we don’t want our shit falling into those jagoff’s hands. If this all goes to shit, Doc and the rest of Leadership, whom Prophet forbade from coming out here, will pick it up and have something to build on. If this all goes to shit, the Pharaohs will go on.
“Where’s Grease?” Prophet mutters.
“I have him up at the turnoff. He’s going to let us know when the van gets here,” I say. “I wanted him as far away from the action as possible. The last thing we want is for him to get the bright idea to put a shot in our back when the shootin’ starts.”
Prophet nods. “Good thinkin’.”
We had Blake tracking Grease’s phone after Spyder and I planted the seed about this shipment when we ran into him in the garage. It didn’t take him long to reach out to Zane. We, unfortunately, weren’t able to tap his phone, so we don’t know what the conversation was. But it’s enough for us to know that he talked to Zane and got the information we planted to him.
We decided they likely won’t be coming down the main road. They’ll want to rely on the element of surprise to spring their trap. This isn’t going to be like on the highway where we’re boxed in with nowhere to go. There, they had the advantage. But the thing is, these Golden State Guard bitches are a self-styled militia. They’re not real soldiers nor have most of them served.
That’s the thing about these militia and survivalist idiots. They like to play soldier. They like to play like they’re tough. But that’s all they’re doing—playing. None of them have ever been in battle before and dollars to doughnut
s, when shit gets real and the bullets start flying, most of them will piss themselves. These guys like to think they’re hard, but they are definitely not ready to roll with us.
We’ve all served. We’ve all been in battle. We all know what it looks, feels, and smells like to be in a fight. We all know what it’s like to look a man in the eye and pull the trigger. None of us will hesitate. We see an enemy; we eliminate the enemy without batting an eye. It’s how we were trained. We didn’t just run around in the forest shooting at bottles and boxes.
So, while we may not know the specifics of their plan, we know these militia punks are out there somewhere. They’re hiding among the trees and bushes, keeping well out of sight. I’m sure they probably even have a scout with eyes on us right now. It’s a good thing we’ve got counter-surveillance out there watching for the watchers because we’re simply better at this than they are.
I key my comm and open the line. “All surveillance positions check in.”
“Alpha one in position,” Spyder says, his voice low. “Nothin’ happenin’ out here.”
“Alpha two in position,” Monk announces. “All clear here.”
“Alpha three in position,” Domino whispers. “I’ve got four creepers out here. Full camo gear, both carrying ARs.”
“Hold position,” I say and turn to Prophet. “Four on our western flank.”
“Alpha one. I’ve now got four bogeys heading your way. Full camo gear and also carrying ARs.”
“Four coming in from the eastern flank,” I say then hit my comm. “Hold position, alpha one. Stand by.”
“Shouldn’t be too much longer before Monk’s got company,” Prophet says. “I’ll give ’em credit, their plan’s a lot smarter than I thought they were capable of.”
And as if on cue, the comm squawks in my ear. “Alpha two,” Monk whispers. “Five inbound. ARs and sidearms.”
“Bingo,” Prophet says then keys his two-way radio. “Tarantula, we’ve got our bogeys inbound. You’re up.”
