Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“You fucking know why.” He twists so he can get a better look at me. His grimace turns into a smirk. His eyes are wild with fear. “You want something. I can hand it over.”
“No games,” I say as I lean forward. “Tell me where Cormac’s hiding.”
“I can do you one better. I’ll tell you where Cormac’s at and where you can find your drugs. But first, you need to let me go.”
“Actually, I’m thinking you either tell me right now, or I kill you and ask one of your men.” I glance over at the other Italian thieves. They’re still wearing helmets, but I can imagine the looks on their faces: eager and ready to spill their fucking guts.
This is the problem with employing mercenaries. They have no goddamn loyalty.
“Fine,” Matteo snarls and grunts as I put more pressure on the knee in his spine. “Fuck, I said fine, I’ll tell you. There’s an old trucking depot that closed down last year right here in the city. Cormac’s got your goods stashed in a truck there.”
I let out a harsh laugh. I know exactly the place he means. “There have to be fifty abandoned big rigs out there. How the fuck am I supposed to find Cormac’s?”
“Lot A, space C-16. I fucking parked it myself.” He groans as I roughly shake his shoulder. “I’m not kidding!”
“Okay, fine, that’s the drugs. Where the fuck is Cormac?”
“You’re not going to believe it.”
I lean down. I’m so fucking sick and tired of this whole game. All I want more than anything in this world is to finish this stupid rebellion, cut Cormac’s throat myself, and go back home to Valentina.
“Try me,” I say in his face.
And Matteo starts talking.
Chapter 47
Ronan
Isit low in the front seat of my SUV and watch the gate to the trucking depot. It’s late, after midnight on a Tuesday, and the whole block is quiet. There’s not much going on past the chain-link fence, only a smattering of rusty cars left there to rot, and a single semi in good condition standing out among the overgrown weed-strewn pavement.
We planned this for two days. Mostly it was Valentina’s idea with some input from Julien and the uncles, and now that we’re here, I feel only the excitement of anticipation. I keep the secure text channels open to Niall and the other cousins, but mostly I sit and I wait, even though I’m bored out of my mind.
I think about Valentina to pass the time. I think about her mouth on mine. I think about her laughter in the shower. I think about the way her body feels pressed against mine, and how easy it is to tell her things I never thought I’d tell anybody. My insecurities, my fears. My worry that I’ll never be enough for the family. She listens and understands, and she doesn’t feed me a bunch of bullshit about how everything’s going to be okay.
Instead, she tells me how we’ll fix it together. How she’s in this with me. How she’s by my side, no matter what happens, and it’s her belief in me that gives me more strength than I thought I had.
My phone buzzes. It’s Niall, calling on an encrypted line. “He’s on the way,” he says when I answer. “You all good?”
“I’m good. Took him long enough. The asshole’s going to be late.”
“I bet he’s doing it on purpose. Make them sweat a little.”
“Yeah, well, I’m ready to get this over with.”
“Five minutes out. Keep your eyes peeled.”
We end the call, and I reach across to where my gun’s sitting on the passenger seat. I pull back the slide and make sure it’s loaded.
A few minutes later, a car appears on the quiet, dead block. I sink down low to make sure he doesn’t spot me as it pulls up to the fence. Two men get out, drag the gate open, and get back in. They roll down the long driveway and disappear into the depot.
I do nothing. I hate this part. It’s all waiting, waiting, waiting, while everyone else has a role to play. But that’s how I’m doing things these days. I can’t just rush out with my guns blazing and hope that life works out the way it’s supposed to. That’s what Gregory tried, and that dumb fuck’s dead as hell now.
Instead, I’m trusting my people and playing it smart.
Ten minutes later, the growl of a semi-truck rumbling down the driveway drifts through the windows. I watch it pause at the street before turning left, going nice and slow. I can’t make out the men in the cab, but it doesn’t matter. I know exactly who they are.
I text Niall that the plan’s on and the package is in motion. Then I start my engine and follow the semi at a conservative distance, only coming into view when it’s stopped at a light or slowing down to make a wide turn. Otherwise, I try to keep on a parallel track, taking a slightly different route to our final destination south of the city. It helps that I know exactly where they’re taking the goods and I have a few different routes mapped out in my head, depending on which they take. Lucky for me, nobody’s getting creative tonight, and the half-hour drive goes very smoothly.