Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Those were the good ol’ days too.
“Ashton?”
“I’m here.”
“What do you want done about the judge?”
I sighed, taking a sip of my bourbon. “He’s been compromised. Do what we always do.”
“Okay.”
“Marco.”
“Yeah?”
“Who sent us this information?”
“One of our cops.”
I frowned. The West family and the Walden family worked as two units in the city. They handled distribution and transportation. We handled the legal system and anything else that fell in between. Because of it, our hands were in a lot of pockets, but since the Worthing family had their own detective, I’d been starting to wonder who else Nicolai Worthing was using.
“You’re questioning the information?”
“Maybe.”
“That’d be a big hit for us, if they’re using one of our judges and one of our cops against us. I think the information is legit. We should act on it before the judge turns on us.”
“Unless that was the point? To make us turn on one of our judges.”
“You think Worthing gave the judge up?”
“Let’s get better eyes on Nicolai Worthing, better than what we’ve already tried.”
“We already have a team watching him.”
“Maybe a specialist on him, then. Someone who will get close and only focus on Nicolai. I want to know everything he does and everyone he talks to. I want to know how far their reach has gotten in our city. I want to know his fucking psych profile.”
“I’ll make the call, but what do you want done about the judge?”
“Grab him, bring him to the Box. Use Manny for the pickup.”
Marco was quiet on his end. “He might be in South America.”
“He’s not. He’s in New York, waiting for this call from us. I had him come back.”
“There’s another matter I gotta bring up. Personal.”
I frowned, tossing the rest of my bourbon back, because usually when Marco used that terminology, he was going to bring up Trace or Jess. The rest of our family loved Trace, understood the benefits of our friendship, in a way that Jess refused to. She’d been a harder obstacle to overcome. That was one of the only silver linings of having half my family wiped out in one night. Most of those naysayers were gone.
Pain sliced through me, but I ignored that. “What is it?”
“Abuela. Tías. My own mother. They want you to come around for family dinner. They said your visit wasn’t long enough the other night. They need more reassurances.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow night?”
“Will that give them enough time for the food?”
He barked out a short laugh. “You kidding me? They had a whole pizza festival with fainá yesterday.”
I started to grin, because that would’ve been fun to attend, but then I remembered—they were in mourning. We were all in mourning. No. It wouldn’t have been fun. “Set it up. Let me know when and where.”
“On it. How are you doing, primo?”
My gut shifted because I didn’t like being asked that question. Trace stopped early on. He was focused on his own family losses, and then he was swept up with Jess, and eventually Marco stopped trying too.
“I’m fine.”
There was movement at Jess’s old bar, and I leaned in, not believing what I was seeing. Molly Easter was bellying up, her two workers/friends next to her, watching her. She hopped onto a stool and almost slid off.
“I gotta go, Marco. Let me know about family dinner.”
“Got it. Be safe.”
“You too.” I hit the button ending the call and headed for the elevator. Elijah’s head popped up when I came out of the room, and his eye twitched, taking me in.
He pressed the elevator button and followed me in after the doors opened. “Is there a problem?”
“Molly Easter came into the club. Do a search—let’s make sure no one followed her.”
“Am I looking for anyone in particular?”
“Just do a search for anyone questionable.”
The elevator arrived, and four guards were waiting for us. Two followed me as I went to the main floor of the club. The other two went with Elijah. Anthony was leaving his office as we passed by him, and he winced, seeing me. “I gotta tell you something.”
“I already know.”
“You do?”
I stopped, frowning at him. He had no idea about Molly Easter. He wouldn’t be talking about her. “What are you talking about?”
“What are you talking about?”
I growled, low and swift. It was a reminder who was the boss.
His head straightened. “Right. Sorry. I was talking about Montell. Security just called. She’s heading inside.”
Jesus. Molly probably called her.
I started forward again, saying to Katya’s manager, “Call Trace.”
Anthony nodded, heading back into his office, and I kept on. This was going to be a shit show, whatever was about to happen.
I was almost looking forward to it.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
ASHTON
She was drunk.
I could see that as I was crossing the floor to the bar they were sitting at, which was Jess’s old bar. Molly’s hand went up in the air and slammed down on the counter. She was doing a Thor impression. “Barkeep!”