Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73208 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“You’re gonna let her talk first,” I said, “before you threaten her.”
Thatcher glanced back at me, looking amused. “You offering to fuck her too?”
“I’ll do what I need to in order to get the info,” King replied as we reached a single metal door at the back of the bar.
Two cars were parked back here, and there was one surveillance camera, but it wasn’t working. I could tell just by looking at it. The twenty-four-hour surveillance warning that was posted beside the door was a joke.
King tried the knob, and it was locked, so he stepped back so that Thatcher could work his magic. He pulled out a tiny screwdriver from his back pocket. I’d seen him use it countless times over the years. It took him less than five seconds, and the door was open wide. King stepped in front of him and stalked inside with a determined look on his face.
Hopefully, the woman gave him the location of her father. I didn’t want her to end up like the stepmother. Sure, we had left Netta Ball alive, but she’d been tied up in the small, filthy apartment we’d found her in with a sock shoved in her mouth. King had told her if she was lying, he’d be back to finish the job. Although I knew when someone was lying, and the woman had told us the truth. Which was why we were here.
King opened doors as we passed them until he finally entered one. When I stepped inside the room, I didn’t see anyone else, but it was clearly a dressing room for a female. The light scent of perfume that lingered in the air, the full-length mirror and vanity table that sat beside it, and the pair of heels placed neatly on the floor beside a brown leather duffel bag made that obvious. However, it was the guitar case that stood in the corner that was the clue King was looking for.
“Search her things,” he said, going over to the duffel bag and picking it up.
Thatcher went to the vanity, and I headed for the guitar case. These were the obvious places to look first. I doubted we were going to find information on her father here, but best to be sure. She’d be back here soon enough.
“You boys must be lost.”
The feminine Southern drawl stopped me from picking up the case, and I turned to see Briar stepping inside the room. There was a flirty smile on her full lips, which either meant she wasn’t very smart to walk into a room where three men were going through her things or she relied too much on her looks in life and thought they were gonna save her. In this case, they just might. Because up close, she was even better, and I hadn’t thought that was possible.
King dropped her duffel and glared at her, which was unnecessary. “You can take us to Roger Ball.”
I watched her as she continued to smile as if she were charming a roomful of her fans. “Excuse me?”
Don’t do that, darling. This will go bad real damn fast.
King took a step toward her, and I had to force myself not to move. Not yet. I was here for King. Not some female I didn’t know who used her pussy as a weapon.
“Not gonna play games,” King warned her.
She let out a soft laugh. “Well, I didn’t accuse you of such, now did I?”
Dammit, she was going to piss him off. I glanced at Thatcher to see if he was going to step in, but he just looked like he was enjoying the show.
“We just need to know where to find him,” I told her. “We know he’s your father, and Netta said he was last seen with you.”
She blinked, and for a moment, a small glimpse of panic flashed so quickly in her eyes that I would have missed it if I hadn’t been so damn focused on her. King would have seen it too. She was going to have to talk—and fast. When she took a step back, I thought she was about to run, but instead, she closed the door behind her. Was she stupid? At least if someone heard her or walked by, it would keep King from making things messy. Dammit, she wasn’t helping me at all here.
“I do pity you that you were forced to breathe Netta’s air,” she said sweetly as she bent down. “She’s a nasty bitch.”
Perhaps if I hadn’t gotten distracted with the view of her ass in the jeans she was wearing, I’d have seen the warning sign or question why she was bending down. But even then, I had to give it to her. She was fast, and the pistol she pulled from her right boot was pointed in King’s direction before she was even standing straight up again.