The American (Unlawful Men #5) Read Online Jodi Ellen Malpas

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Unlawful Men Series by Jodi Ellen Malpas
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Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
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“What?” Lennox blurts. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Deadly.” Danny starts pacing.

“Come on,” Ringo whines. “I’m dying of boredom here.”

“I don’t have any money on me,” Danny muses, as everyone looks at the bag of cash.

“Here we go,” James says from the window, his gun coming up. Everyone in the room stands, alert, weapons being pulled from everywhere. “Two cars.”

“Two?” Lennox asks, his eyes batting between us all. “Why the fuck have they sent two cars?”

I go to him, taking his hand and putting my gun in it. “Don’t hesitate,” I say, pulling another from the back of my jeans. “Just make sure the bullet doesn’t land in any of us.” I go to James and Danny by the window.

“There’re two in each car,” James says. “The two men from the first car will come in. The other two will stay outside.” The first car slows to a stop just past the driveway, the second stopping directly across it. “Lennox will answer the door. I’ll be behind it, so you all wait in here.”

I nod, Danny takes a casual seat on the couch, looking comfortable as James faces Lennox. “Where’s the gun?” he asks. Lennox taps the back of his pants. “You open the door onto me, stand back, not letting go of the door, and let them in. Close the door and draw at the same time.” James wanders out to the front door, leaving Lennox looking bewildered. “And don’t drag this out,” he calls back. I think he’s talking to me and Danny. “It’s a nice neighborhood. It’s only a matter of time before someone notices the two X5s on the street.”

“Yes, sir,” Danny says, stoic, his gun resting on the arm in his loose grip. He looks at me. “Don’t drag it out,” he says, passing the baton. Happy days.

“You’re not in the mood for bloodshed?”

“My wife’s provided enough bloodshed recently.” He turns a cold stare onto Lennox.

“Like I said,” Lennox murmurs, looking toward where James just disappeared. “I prefer redheads.”

I feel Danny’s eyes on me, but I don’t entertain him.

“Ready,” Goldie says from the window.

“Armed?” I ask.

“Yep.” Of course they are. And extra vigilant, I expect, after Lennox pulled a James and went all Rambo on Sandy’s messengers. Goldie holds up three fingers. Then two. Then one. Everyone falls silent, and the doorbell chimes.

“Jesus,” Lennox murmurs, leaving the room.

“Be cool,” I order as he goes, listening, hearing the door open. No talking. The sound of boots on the wooden floor. Then the door closes and a flurry of rushed foreign words are spat. Russian curses. We all watch the entrance of the lounge until two wide black-covered backs appear, hands up. “You stupid man,” one drawls. “You’ll be dead within twelve hours.”

“Welcome,” I sing, and they spin around. Their faces when they realize how outnumbered they are is quite amusing. Ringo moves in and pats them down, pulling backup guns from their pants. “Take a seat.” I point my gun to the couch opposite. “Enjoy our hospitality.”

James appears behind them, Lennox beside him, looking surprisingly comfortable, as both the Russians shuffle across the room and tentatively lower to the couch, like they’re worried it could explode the second their asses meet the soft, luxury fabric.

I put myself on the coffee table before them, forearms resting on my knees, casual, and light up. Some cigarettes you enjoy more than most. Like the one you have with your first Scotch of the day. Or the one right after your dinner. I’m going to enjoy this smoke.

One of the Russians looks at Lennox, his lip curling. “How do you know these men?”

“Oh, my apologies, how rude of me.” I look back at Danny, laughing, and he smiles darkly. “That there is The Brit.” I’m wasting valuable time, I know that. And when I look at James, he gives me tired eyes, expressing his impatience. But this is what we do. We perform. “Over there is The Enigma.” I point my gun at the window. “That’s Ringo.”

The big, ugly fucker grins. “Pleased to meet you.”

“That beauty is Goldie.”

“Pleasure.” She nods.

“And that’s Otto.” Otto doesn’t greet them. “I believe you know Lennox.” I pull on my Marlboro and rise to my feet, ensuring I have the best range, as I screw the silencer onto the head of my gun. “And I believe I’m affectionately known as The American these days.” I aim. “And you are?”

They stare at my extended arm. “You will kill us whether we talk or not.”

“True. But only you can decide how painful it is.”

“Fuck you.”

I smile. “Speaking of pain, do you know where the most painful place on the body is to be shot?” They stare up at me, their chests beginning to pump faster. “Pass?” I look around the room. “Any offers?” Everyone remains silent. I know James will have the answer to this. He won’t spoil my fun, though. “It’s the pelvis,” I say, tapping my hip with my gun. “Right about here.” I bend and get up in his face. “Now, you both have a bit more meat on your bones than I do, so it could be hit or miss.” I push the gun into the biggest of the two fuckers’ waist area, and he pushes himself back into the couch. “Fancy talking?” I put more weight behind me. “No?” I pout. “Okay.” And pull the trigger.


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