“You’re telling me why?” I question, pressing down a little harder on the accelerator.
“Something tells me Nate would send you anyway,” Tanner says. “Plus, now I can personally ask that you take any men off my property before handling them.”
I scoff. “You run an illegal fighting ring, and I can’t spill some blood in your club? When are you going to live a little, tight-ass?”
Tanner curses under his breath. I smile, though he can’t see it, knowing I’ve gotten under his skin.
“I’m not risking my business, Malia. Not even for Nate,” he says with finality. “Generations of hard work won’t go to shit because you get too stabby.”
“I thought you weren’t calling to talk dirty to me. Repeat what you just said, only this time in Spanish.”
“Fuck sake. I’ll have them wrapped up and ready for you in a special VIP room and text you the room number.”
“Got it, tight-ass,” I tease.
Tanner hangs up without another word. He sends a text immediately after with the room number and faces of the men I’m after.
Dad has been looking for these two fuckhead brothers for over a year. They fill their pockets with the skin trade. Picking women and children off the street to offer for a high price to the men at the top.
The twins, Theo and Wyatt Hall, disappeared when my dad got wind of their dealings with Rico Martinez. Martinez has been at the top of the skin trade for decades, and word has it he’s passed the business off to his son, but the fucker is good at hiding.
The fact the twins have resurfaced and are still breathing means they’re valuable. So, as much as I would love to skin them and make a hammock out of them. Dad will want to interrogate them.
I might get off on torturing a motherfucker and spilling blood, but our family doesn't stand for it when it comes to drugs and the skin trade.
For reasons he won’t talk about, Dad’s been hunting for Rico for as long as I can remember. He tries to keep it to himself, but the closer to him I work, the more I hear.
I make it home in record time, quickly shower off the workout from earlier, and change for tonight. I have a few hours to spare, so I take advantage of the time.
When I’m ready, I look for my brother and his loyal troll. I can do many things, but wrangling two big-ass men into a vehicle by myself seems like more work than it’s worth. I’ll save my energy for the real fun.
It doesn’t take long to find the two men shooting the shit in the lounge.
Donovan nods his acknowledgment, and Breckin ignores me, but I’m sure this peace the devil graced me with will be short-lived. If they knew the events from today, my greeting would have been far less pleasant.
I stride over to the bar, reach for an empty glass, and pour myself some whiskey.
“Vasquez called when I was on my way home,” I say, leaning against the bar, throwing back my glass, and draining the contents.
“Not feeling up to the club tonight, sis,” Donovan says, sipping on his glass.
“Not even for the Hall twins?”
I smile when both men’s heads snap up to look at me.
“It’s an Olin thing--I’m sure you understand, big guy,” I tell Breckin, twirling the empty glass before slamming it down on the bar.
“She’s right, Breck,” Donovan says. “For Dad, this is something she and I need to take care of.”
I wasn’t expecting my brother to agree so easily to not having his shadow up his ass. Then again, when it comes to our dad, there’s not much either of us wouldn’t sacrifice. If there’s one thing we can agree on, it’s the sanctity of our father. He’s our family.
Donovan stands up and leads me out of the lounge. Breckin hangs back without protest and pours himself another drink, and I can feel his eyes on me as I leave. We haven’t spoken a word since the night of the Halloween party.
At this point, I’m sure he knows about my mother’s plans to marry me off, and I’m surprised he hasn’t come to me with a plan to get me out of it. Since he hasn’t, I’m sure my dad had another sit-down with him.
My brother and I walk into the garage, and he stops to look at the array of keys hanging. He makes a show of choosing the vehicle.
“Donnie—” is all I’m able to get out before he snatches a set and tosses it at me. “Cleaner van?” I raise an eyebrow.