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)
“Your phone’s been bugged,” he says, so casual, without even looking up. Brad and I stop halfway across the office and look at each other, just waiting, and James drops his feet, sitting up in his chair. Whose phone? Otto eventually turns his eyes onto me. “So I’ve cut the line.”
“What?” I ask, slightly squeaky. “What the hell do you mean, bugged?”
“I mean what I say, and I said your phone was bugged.”
“Who the fuck would want to bug me?” All I’ve done recently is try to sleep—try being the operative word. The only thing they’ll have heard is Maggie crying in the background while I cried down the line to Doc, begging him for some miracle cure for my nocturnal baby. “And how? I’ve hardly left the house for weeks.”
Otto snaps the lid of his laptop shut. “I’m looking into it.”
Brad’s phone rings and he dips into his pocket. “Higham,” he says, his attention on the screen, as if the caller’s name might change if he stares at it long enough.
I take one step back as James rises from the chair, like he’s been resurrected. Like this is what he’s been waiting for. I know he won’t leave the city until we know exactly what the deal is with Sandy. Can’t say I’m all too fond of the feeling in my stomach. I agreed to leave Higham alone if he covered up Detective Collins’s murder for us after Nolan got a bit trigger-happy at the club and shot her. The kid’s capable, yes. Dependable, yes.
Really fucking dumb sometimes, yes.
Why the fuck is Higham calling?
Brad clicks the call to loudspeaker. “We have a situation,” Higham says, pulling us all closer to the phone.
“Is this something to do with Beau poking around?” James asks.
“I can handle your wife, Kelly.”
My eyebrows shoot up. I’m not sure that’s true, and judging by James’s rolling eyes and Brad’s huff of laughter, they agree. “So what’s the situation if it’s not Beau?” I ask.
“And by we, do you mean we, you and your colleagues,” James says, a veil of darkness falling. “Or we, as in you and us?”
“I mean the whole fucking city.”
On collective inhales, we all lean back, eyes darting to each other. “Can it wait?” Brad points to me. “The Angel-faced Assassin is babysitting right now.”
I see a familiar twinkle in Brad’s eyes as James chuckles, along with Otto, and I smile. There he is. The sarcastic fucker who I fucking adore. I peek down at Maggie. She looks so cute wrapped up in her armor. It’s fucking heavy, though.
“I’m on my way over,” Higham says tiredly and unamused, hanging up.
“Well,” I say, going to the couch and lowering, taking a load off, absolutely raging with curiosity. I hardly want to admit it, but I can feel something coming to life inside. It’s been an odd few months. The women busier than the men. Out more than the men. More to do than the men. “I always thought peace was overrated, anyway.” And right on cue, Maggie starts wailing, forcing me to my feet again. “Shhhh,” I whisper, starting to bob where I stand.
“You look so deadly,” Brad says, pouring himself a drink and knocking it back.
“While you’re there.” I nod to an empty glass behind him, and he huffs a burst of laughter.
“Drinking on the job?” he asks.
“It’s not a job when it’s your daughter.” I smile, reaching back to unclip the catch and lowering Maggie onto the desk, pulling her out of the carrier. “Now get me a fucking drink. Pur . . . lease.”
“My pleasure.”
The door opens and Ringo enters, looking entirely wrong without Goldie somewhere nearby. She was in Venice last we heard. Enjoying her freedom.
Ringo’s eyes fall to the crook of my arm and the big, ugly fucker smiles, ironically making him even uglier. “Can I?” he asks.
I find myself stepping back. “You want to hold her?”
“Yeah, I want to hold her.” He moves in, and I’m suddenly moving farther back with Maggie. “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” he asks. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Thing is, Ringo, she’s quiet at the moment, and the second she sees your ugly mug, she’s gonna scream to high fucking heaven.”
“Fuck off, you cunt.” He helps himself to my daughter, and I look at James, not surprised to see his eyes on Maggie. I have this weird feeling in my bones that Beau’s carrying a girl. Two girls? Fuck me, all these men—capable men—around them growing up? They’ll be the most protected girls to walk the planet.
Ringo takes Maggie over to the glass window to look down on the club, and I lower to the desk, accepting a drink from Brad before he plonks himself in the chair. I look around the room. James is on his phone, probably texting Beau, Otto gets up and leaves the room, probably to take a leak, Brad is daydreaming into his Scotch, and Ringo is having a full-blown conversation with Maggie. “Jesus, we really are a force to be reckoned with.”