Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Come on, Judge.” Duke’s hand snaked its way down to his cock and the traitorous appendage quickly rose to the occasion.
“You think the way to a partnership is through my cock,” Judge said, drily. Stretching his arms high, linking them behind his head.
“No, but it’s a start,” Duke whispered, placing soft kisses across Judge’s chest.
Judge closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the sensation when his cell phone chimed nosily beside him.
“Damnit,” Duke grumbled. “Don’t answer it.”
Judge looked at him like he had horns. “A bounty hunter that doesn’t answer his phone?”
Duke stopped and dropped back down on his side of the bed. Judge picked up the phone, not recognizing the out of state number. But of course that wasn’t uncommon. He pressed the illuminated green receiver and grumbled a lazy, “Talk.”
The deep voice on the other end of the line had Judge’s eyes opening wide and him bolting straight up in the bed. “I don’t believe it.” Judge listened some more. Fucking Cashel Godfrey. Last he’d heard he’d settled down with that asshole Day and was heading up a pretty big task force in Atlanta. From what he understood, God needed him to come to Atlanta and take a job. Hell, it must be big.
“I’m in Charleston, give me until tomorrow… okay… yep.” Judge hung up. Godfrey was a man of few words, just like him. But if it wasn’t for the big guy, Judge wouldn’t even be there today. God had saved his ass a couple times on the battlefield in their enlisted days. He owed the man, and if nothing else, Judge was a man of his word.
“You’re leaving.” Duke swung his legs over the side of the bed, letting the covers pool in between his thighs, covering his deflated erection.
Judge was already pulling on his still-damp leathers. “Yeah. I gotta job. You know how it goes. If you’d got a call from the jail right now, you’d be leaving to go bail someone out.”
Duke nodded his head in understanding, but he still looked disappointed, quickly schooling his expression. That right there was exactly why Judge didn’t get further involved. He didn’t stay in one place long enough to make anyone happy. He put on a fresh black V-neck t-shirt and went for his boots. When he was ready, he hefted up his duffle bag and went for the door. He looked back to say bye and noticed Duke was still sitting there on the edge of the bed looking down at the floor.
He walked over to him and gripped his chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “Hey,” he whispered. “Thanks for tonight.” He swiped his thumb down Duke’s cheek, his version of a kiss, and walked out the door. There was no need to linger.
The downstairs was empty, all the employees gone home for the night. He grabbed Bookem’s food and whistled for him to come. Shit, even the dog looked like he wasn’t ready to get back on the road. Book was up there in years, too, for a dog anyway. Surely his bones were starting to feel the effects of jumping in and out of that big truck. “Sorry boy. We’re almost to quitting time. Few more jobs.”
They settled in for the drive. He’d had enough of a power nap to make it to Atlanta. He’d probably find a place to park and nap, then he’d go to the police station and see how he could help his long-time friend.
Chapter Ten
Michaels had slept like shit. After he’d packed a bag last night, pulling things in and out, trying to determine what was needed and what wasn’t. He was clueless how to pack for a few days on the road with a bounty hunter. He didn’t want to over-pack and weigh the guy down and he didn’t want to be without something that was needed. Finally, he’d packed like he was going to his family’s cabin. Plus his weapons.
When he felt ready, he’d tried to sleep, but his mind raced with crazy scenarios. The meeting before he left work hadn’t helped. The informant Greg Myers—named Switch on the streets—was a dealer who’d been popped and flipped by God and Day. He’d agreed to a lighter manslaughter sentence if he cooperated in taking down The Kid, since Switch was high up in Kid’s organization.
He’d been arrested for murder, but when he agreed to turn over evidence on one of the biggest drug lords in Atlanta, they had to make a deal. The DA wasn’t happy about the plea, but had signed off on it. Not only had they lost their self-confessed murderer, they’d lost the drugs along with him. The Kid was arrested, but all they had were weapons and money… they needed the drugs.
Michaels dressed in black cargo pants and a plain gray t-shirt. He tucked his small .38 automatic in his boot and secured his 9mm at his back. With his loose fitting jean jacket, people wouldn’t be able to see anything. Last but not least, he put his brass knuckles in each pocket so he could reach in and slide them on if needed. Fighting was ingrained deep inside him and he was good at it, but on the streets the rules had changed… as in there were none. So fighting dirty was imperative.