Now that was the truth. I wouldn't have been this calm if it wasn’t for Axel and Shadow checking in every few hours. The fact of the fucking matter was as long as Player was cooling it by driving across the country with Catarina, he wasn’t getting into trouble. I am hoping the long drive to the east coast will cool him off and make him see reason, which will give us time to figure out a plan of action.
Player and Catarina’s situation needed to be resolved and fast.
The longer this took, the harder it would be for everyone involved. None of us really knew what Gary or Linda Hughes would do. Add in who Linda’s father was, and it was anyone’s guess.
Edward Allworth Lyons Jr was as dirty as they came. Even from our own investigation, the man had been linked to some of the most unscrupulous moments in history. Though nothing ever really pinpointed his involvement in anything, money didn’t lie. Numerous money trails were linked to several business dealings, political campaigns, and more.
“What if I agreed with you, and we took matters into our own hands. What is your estimate?”
“A fucking nightmare. If we go in without the law backing us, we would have not only the FEDs on us but every local and state official at our doors. It’s not so much Hughes that worries us. It’s the wife’s family. Her father is a big fish swimming in a big pond. The man has connections. He could make our lives a living hell. Then again, I really don’t give a fuck. I say fuck the consequences. Possession is nine-tenths of the law, right?”
Giovanni laughed at that.
I heard a soft knock on the other line, and then a woman’s voice say, “Gio?”
“Yes,Bambina?”
“This arrived for you.”
“Thank you.”
The line got eerily quiet as I waited for Giovanni to say something, and when I heard him gasp, I slowly sat up, wondering what it was he was reading or seeing. “Reaper, I need to call you back.”
And just like that, the line went dead.
God, I really hated when people hung up on me.
A knock on the door had me looking up as Ghost walked in.
Something was wrong.
I could see it on his face.
Sighing, I asked, “What? What now?”
“The boys are getting restless. Chisel, Ink, and Gator just took off, and I don’t need to tell you where they are going.”
Fuck!
Twenty-Five
Player
The sun was setting when we pulled into another hotel parking lot east of Cheyenne, Wyoming. Stepping from the truck, I stretched my back, aching. Looking over at Catarina, she said nothing as she stretched and looked around the area. She had been quiet most of the ride, either sleeping or watching the landscape as we drove past.
I missed my bike.
I was happy that I could get the truck, but now after being in the cage all fucking day, I missed the wind on my face and the freedom of the open road.
I should have never sold it.
I had the money to buy the truck out right. I could have bought a trailer and hauled my bike. But for some reason, I didn’t. Maybe it was for the best. I was a father now. I needed to be more careful with my life, more responsibility, less recklessness. I had a family to provide for, a son to raise, and put through college.
My desires could wait, right?
I mean, that’s what parents did, put their family’s well-being above their own?
“I can’t wait to take a hot shower,” Catarina said, walking around the front of the truck, wrapping her arms around me. Hugging her back, I kissed the top of her head and replied, “How about we share the shower and conserve some water?”