Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
I frowned intensely at him but remained quiet.
“He’s pissed at me,” Fox explained, not sounding nearly as angry as I expected.
Viper raised a brow, and Mav huffed as he went around the desk and settled himself against the wall just to the left of the prez. “Britta?” he guessed.
“She’s eighteen,” I growled.
“And we still haven’t eliminated the threat to them,” Mav argued. “As soon as we do and it’s safe for them, you’ll have their location.”
We’d been working on taking out the organization that was targeting Marylin and Britta. It was unusual for us to take this long to get shit handled. However, we had to take down the boss for the girls to be truly safe. His name and location were so closely guarded that our only option had been to start at the bottom of the ladder. No one knew the players in the group who were above their direct supervisor, so we interrogated one and moved up to the next, then did it again. Sometimes multiple people were on the next rung, which meant hunting them all down until we figured out who had the information we needed to continue to climb.
Glaring at Mav, I unfolded my arms, and my hands curled into fists again as I rested them on my knees. “I protect what’s mine.”
“Enough,” Fox barked. “Do not question my orders, Stone. I’ve let you get away with a lot of shit when it involved Britta because I understand your frustration. But if you take it too far, I’ll have your patch. Understood?”
I watched him warily for a moment. He was right. It was rare for the prez or VP to put up with the kind of shit I’d been giving them for the past two years. Clearly, I’d reached their limit. So I nodded and tried to relax.
Fox jerked his chin up and down with finality, then turned to face his computer. “An informant just passed along word of an auction he’s heard about. Gave us a time and location, but he wasn’t sure how accurate the intel is.”
“Fuck,” Viper muttered.
“Same motherfuckers?” I asked.
“Looks like it.”
We’d been stalking a trafficking ring for a few months, but every time we got close, they were gone—along with the girls—by the time we arrived. With every miss, I got closer to the edge of my rage and sanity. One of the few things that kept me from losing my mind was thinking about what I was gonna do to those fuckers when we finally found them.
“Where did the information come from?” Viper asked. Likely thinking as I was, that our informants had been less than reliable in the past.
“Wouldn’t tell me,” Fox grunted. “But he was adamant that it was accurate. Never seen him so determined to have me believe him.”
“Inside man?” Mav suggested.
Fox shrugged and scrubbed his hands over his face. “No fucking clue. But if we don’t take these assholes down this time, heads are gonna roll. I will bring in every informant, every person who ever gave us even the slightest inkling that they knew something or might have been involved. By the time we’re done with them, they’ll be spilling every fucking secret they have.”
Viper nodded in agreement. “Details?”
“New York. In the port district.” Fox handed him a slip of paper, and he glanced at it, frowning deeply when he saw the date, time, and address.
“That’s over a thirteen-hour drive,” I grumbled.
Fox grunted, “Gives me time to touch base with Nic.”
Nic DeLuca was the head of the New York Mafia and a client of the Iron Rogues. But he was also a close friend of Fox’s. “His organization has been after the same group, so I asked him to do more digging into the accuracy of the tip. And no one will know you two.”
I tuned out whatever the three of them said next, but my attention was snagged when something flew through the air, and Viper caught it.
Jealousy burned in my gut when he held up a property vest. He was headed home to give it to his woman.
There was a similar vest hanging in my closet. Only this one said, “Property of Stone.” Fox had given it to me shortly after the first time he refused to tell me where my girl was.
“It’s gonna happen,” he’d told me. “Now you’ll be ready when it does.”
It took over a week to resolve the situation in New York. We’d teamed up with the DeLucas and managed to bust the operation in time to save the latest shipment of girls.
Before we left, we had dinner with Nic, his wife Anna, and their cute kids. Afterward, Nic asked me to join him in his home office.
He walked around his large, mahogany desk and sat down. “Have a seat,” he offered, gesturing to the leather wingback chairs in front of him.