“Yes, you smell of me mixed with a lot of you.” Fucking glorious.
She smiles. “Then I can wait.”
I deflate, tapping the driver’s window so that Fury lowers it. “You loaded?” He nods. “Pop the trunk.” I round the back of the car and pull out the side panel, collecting the small handgun and checking the magazine as Fury closes it again. “Here.” I hand it to Beau, who hardly looks at the damn thing as she too checks it’s loaded before lifting her arse from the seat and slipping it into the back of her sweatpants. “Be safe,” I order.
She looks up at me with slightly lazy eyes as she reaches for the door, forcing me back. “You be safe,” she counters, closing it. Fury wastes no time pulling off, and I watch the car until it turns off the airfield.
“You ready?” Brad asks, shouldering me as he passes and slips into the driver’s seat of the last Merc.
“Ready,” I say quietly, putting my hand up at the second Merc as it takes Ringo, Goldie, and Otto to the boatyard. I slip into the car and dial Danny, putting him on loudspeaker. “Just landed,” I say when he answers. “How’s Rose?”
“The worst patient ever.”
I smile and Brad chuckles. “Use the time wisely, yeah?” I say, mindful that Brad is sitting next to me and doesn’t know the extent of the shit that’s gone down between Danny and Rose. This is an unexpected opportunity for Danny to step back and screw his head back on straight. We’ve got things covered here.
“Yeah,” he agrees, but it’s reluctant, something both Brad and I detect. I look across the car to him, and he nods, acknowledging the joint observation. We both know his thirst for this particular kill is unrelenting. “You going straight to the club?” Danny asks.
“Brad needs to check in with Nolan and tell him the final payment from the Mexicans will be delayed in light of the late shipment.” I flick the aircon on higher, feeling stifled by Miami’s humidity already. “I’ll call Luis when I get to Hiatus to let him know to hold his money for now.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“And the discount?” Danny asks, prompting me to look across to Brad again as he hits the main road and puts his foot down.
“I don’t know,” Brad says, shrugging. “What’s the going rate for goodwill discounts on a small arsenal these days? One hundred, two hundred, three hundred grand? Oh, I know. Why don’t we just give the Mexican fucker our guns for free?”
I smile and return my attention to Danny on the phone. “I’ll deal with it. I’ll let you know the new plan once the men report back from the boatyard.”
“Sure,” he mutters, his voice sharp.
I hang up, leaving Danny festering about that, and rest back in my seat, watching Miami fly by. “Glad to be back?” I ask Brad.
“My dick is,” he says, and I smile, knowing he’s been deprived in that area while we’ve been in St. Lucia. “But my inner peace, not so much.”
I hum, silently agreeing.
Inner peace.
That fucker is elusive in this life.
I stop on the threshold of the entrance to the club, gazing around. Every light is on, the bar staff restocking, the dancers practicing. Nolan emerges from the office, suited and booted, and the moment he spots Brad and me, a fleeting look of panic flashes across his face before he corrects it and smiles widely.
I tilt my head, curious, as I follow Brad over. “Did you catch that?” I ask Brad’s back, my eyes never straying from Nolan.
Brad looks back on a monster frown. “Catch what?”
My eyes narrow. “Nothing.”
“Boss,” Nolan says. “I wasn’t expecting you.’
“Yeah, and ain’t that obvious,” I say to myself as I pass them, heading straight to the office.
“Let me get you both a drink,” Nolan chimes. A drink? It’s not even noon. “Mason, get the bosses a drink. Hey, James, you want a drink, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t,” I call back, walking on. “It’s the wrong side of noon.” What the fuck was he up to in here?
I push through the door.