“The fuck you want, Bishop?” I drop back to my pillows and push the heel of my hand into my eye. “I’m busy, you asshole.”
“Busy getting pussy. You’ll be fine. I need you to accept my anonymous call; Hayes has got a shipment of guns coming up in a couple weeks, and trust me, you don’t want these fuckers on your streets. Kids will be killing kids in schoolyards.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. Make your calls, do what you gotta do, then I’ll do my best on my end.”
“You guys still hanging in there? I didn’t hear from you in a whole month.”
“You miss me, Cruz?” His gritty chuckle rolls over the line. “I don’t swing toward the dudes, but I could probably find someone who’d fuck you. He might do it with the barrel of a gun. You probably won’t survive it, but you might enjoy it for a sec.”
“No. Shut the fuck up. Jesus.” I scrub a hand over my spiked chin. “Send me the details and I’ll make the call. I need date, players, numbers, types.”
“You don’t need shit except what I already told you. Now take that to your boss, tell him you got a tip, then deal with it. There’s nothing more I can do on my end. Hayes will make me warehouse them, he’ll make me count them, he’ll make me distribute them. You gotta stop them before they get here.”
“Alright. Fuck. Alright.” I squeeze my eyes closed to think. “Alright, I’ll work on it. Thanks for the tip.”
“Just doing my civic duty and passing on a message. See you around, Cruz. Oh, and when you turn the lights on and find your girl missing, don’t sweat it. She got a cab. She’s safe.”
“What?” My heart slams in my chest when the line goes dead. I reach over and switch the lamp on, and when I turn back, I find a wall of pillows where a beautiful cream-skinned woman was laying just a few hours ago.
She left.
She fucking ditched in the middle of the night.
“Motherfucker!”