Series: Sean Moriarty
Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“Meaning what?” James asks from beside me, shifting to look at Simon. “Why does that mean anything?”
“If you’d give me—” Simon starts before I cut him off.
“It means that I was shot with a shitty homeowner’s defense rifle, as we all figured,” I say. “If it had been a professional weapon, I would have been dead on arrival.”
“Exactly,” Simon agrees. “That’s why this has taken so long. I wanted to interview the original owner of the gun myself and make sure this wasn’t a ‘lost’ gun.”
I frown. “So, the vixen who shot me was using a black market gun instead of bringing in something from the Russians.
“Yes,” Lucifer chimes in. “That’s our best guess at the moment. We’ve been keeping our ears out for any new information on the Russians, but haven’t heard anything. Ever since Andrey was dropped off on their doorstep, they’ve been quiet.”
“We’ve either royally fucked up their world or they’re biding their time until they can figure out how to hurt us in return,” Gabriel grunts out.
“No chance they’ve taken their toys and gone home?” Uriel asks.
“I doubt it,” I say. “We’ve bloodied their noses at every turn. We’ve destroyed every foothold they held in the city. Their slave ring has been shut down in this part of the country, at the very least. Her using a black market rifle speaks to the difficulty she’s had in procuring good weapons. If the Russians still had a large presence here, I don’t think she would have resorted to what she did.”
“That’s not to say they’re not here or at least working through intermediaries,” Simon says.
I want to groan in frustration. What he just said without actually saying it is that we’re still sitting in a holding pattern.
We’re waiting and not doing anything fun.
Like stabbing an eye out with a spork, a little voice whispers in my head.
I feel like I’m being edged and there’s no fucking end in sight.
I’m the one who does the edging, dammit, and I fucking loathe being on the sideline like this.
My hands itch to reach down and grab the Glock off my hip. I can feel the cool metal of the gun. Feel how it would soothe my mind as the cold steel rests in my palm.
Anya Petrov, former FSB, and proud Bratva murderess.
She’s keeping me from working right now, and I want her fucking head.
She’s got a lady boner for me because I killed her twin sister, Tanya, and I’m going to castrate her as soon as I get the chance.
If I could, I’d kill her right now.
Oddly, I’ve never killed identical twins before.
I’d like to do it sometime soon.
“Now onto the next business… Uriel, we need you to head to Cloud 69…” Simon says while looking down at his laptop, his fingers moving quickly over the keyboard.
The guys in the room start to chuckle as Uriel groans loudly.
“Is this a punishment?” he asks with growl. “Hazing? Let’s put the new guy in a strip club and watch his skin crawl?”
The laughter continues as Lucifer smirks at Simon. “Passing the buck to the newest man on the totem pole?”
“Is it bad that I want to call my union rep about this?” Uriel laughs.
“If only.” Lucifer smiles.
“I’ll go,” I say during a lull. “I need to get out in the world again.”
“You’re still a target—” Simon starts to say.
Cutting him off, I shake my head in frustration. “I’ll always be a target, the same as any of us. Except, maybe, Nathaniel over there.”
Nathaniel leans against one of the tables, his tall, lanky frame relaxed as he looks from me to the rest of us.
Shrugging his shoulders, he says, “I’m the new guy, as well, I suppose. I doubt the world even remembers my face.”
He’s right. Going to prison under not the best of terms has a way of making the world forget you. Simon’s rigorous efforts to scrub his entire identity from the internet also helps.
We’ve all been scrubbed from the world by Simon.
“Jude has a point,” Lucifer says, and I see in his calculating eyes he’s judging me in some way.
Lucifer likes to do that. He likes to judge the men around him, weighing their worth and merit. Most he finds lacking in one way or another. Only those he finds special ever make it to the inner circle.
“On his own head then,” Simon says. “Uriel, Nathaniel, and Jude, head to the club. We need to see their official and unofficial books. I also want a complete rundown of the employees and all their information.”
“Are we looking for anything specific?” I ask.
“No. Since this is a new acquisition, we’re just looking to make sure that their values align with our own,” Simon answers.
“Yeah, no more handies from chicks with green scabby shit on their lips,” James snickers and elbows Gabriel.
Gabriel smacks him back. “Shut the fuck up, James.”