Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
I peek at James, and he looks familiarly stoic. Dark. Deadly. “Anything to say before I tell Bean here what’s going to happen?” I ask, wondering if he wants a piece of the action.
“Yes.”
“What?”
James takes the lamp off the nightstand and clouts Bean around the head with it. “That’s all.”
“Lovely. So, yes, as I was saying.” I frown at Bean as he falls back, eyes closed, and my shoulders drop. “For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, kicking his leg. “You knocked him out.”
“Oops.” James tosses the lamp aside and walks out, leaving me, open-mouthed, watching him go. “Your games get boring after a while.”
“I thought you loved my games.” I lean down and give Bean a few slaps around the face, bringing him round. He blinks up at me. “The Enigma just saved your life. Not many men can claim that. Do I need to explain what happens next?”
He shakes his head, blinking.
“Good.” I leave him, catching up with James on the stairs. “You’re no fun anymore. I remember the days when you used to chop limbs off and talk dirty to your prey.” I pull out my cigarettes and light up as we walk out into the sunshine.
“You won’t say that when we find Sandy.” He fires the fob at the Range Rover. “Who next?”
“We’re picking up Brad.” I get in the car and roll the window down. “Mind if I smoke in here?”
“Yes.” He starts the car and pulls away.
I take a drag and do my best to exhale out of the window. “We need to take the girls out for dinner. I miss our double dates.”
“You took Rose out last week.”
“That was last week.”
“Does she still think you’re having a fling?”
I laugh. Yeah, I’m fucking my way through Miami in between insomnia and murdering all the fuckers that refuse to let us have our peace.
28
BRAD
* * *
For the first time, Ella isn’t on me like a wolf when I enter the club, as she has been each time since Nolan had a fight with a speeding car, asking if he’s okay, when he’ll be back. She’s worried. She can’t fake that. She briefly looks up at me from where she’s sitting in a booth on the other side of the club before quickly giving her cell her attention again.
“Is she okay?” I ask Mason, stopping at the bar. Oh Jesus, don’t tell me Nolan’s broken the bad news and finished it with her. I demanded it, I know, but I haven’t got the capacity to replace her at the moment.
Mason peeks up at me, eyebrows high. “She’s not happy.”
Dare I ask? “Why?”
Nolan appears at the door on a pair of crutches.
“That’s why,” Mason says. “She told me to send him home. I told her I don’t have the authority to do that.”
“As of now, I give you the authority. What the fuck, Nolan?” I say, looking up and down at the shorts and T-shirt he has on, a sneaker on one foot.
“I couldn’t get my suit on.”
“You shouldn’t have got anything on.” I follow his path as he hobbles past. “Nolan,” I call. “Get your ass home.”
“I’m fine.”
I look at Mason, astounded. He shrugs and gets back to counting the float. From Ella’s expression, I can tell she’s had this row with him. I’m ignoring the fact that feelings are involved if she’s insisting on him resting. For fuck’s sake. I go after Nolan, trailing him into the office. “And what the fuck do you think you’re going to do here?”
“Work.”
“Doing what?”
“I don’t know. Something.”
“Nolan, I said—”
“I’m fine!” he yells, wobbling on his crutches, nearly putting himself on his ass.
I withdraw, shocked, and he starts breathing through his nose, obviously trying to cool himself down. He looks . . . really fucking troubled. What happened has really got to him. “It’s all part of the job,” I say, giving him space rather than getting up in his face, giving him soft rather than the usual tough love. He looks like he’d break if I let loose on him.
“I know.”
“But if you want out . . .” He’d be a great loss, but I can’t have fairies around, crying over a few flying bullets and a hit-and-run.
His eyes widen. “No, I don’t want out. Never.” He drops into a chair.
“Then get your shit together, boy.”
“I’m fine.” His face bunches, his hand going to his thigh.
“As you keep saying. What has Doc said?”
He looks up through his lashes at me. “He said I’m fine.”
For fuck’s sake. “How did you get here?”
“Taxi.”
“On your own?”
“No, with a taxi driver.”
Oh, he’s pushing it. I go to him, taking his arm and manhandling him back out of the office, his crutches flapping around as he tries to fight me.
“Brad, leave me here, I can’t sit around at home in bed. It’s driving me insane.”
“Mason,” I yell as I enter the club, reaching into my pocket for my keys and tossing them to him when he looks up. He catches them with one quick hand. “Take this dipshit to the boatyard.” I thrust Nolan toward a stool. “Sit.” He does. Fast. “There’s fuck all point you being here, so if you insist that you don’t want to lie around the house, you can go play shop at the yard.” Fury appears. “What the fuck are you doing here?”