Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I didn’t even notice the plate clipped the side of my coffee cup until Saylor’s arm was shooting across the table, grabbing it before it spilled all over my lap.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” she asked, squinting at me.
“Thanks,” I said, pushing the coffee further away. “Could do without being burned twice in one day with hot coffee,” I admitted.
“What happened to your face?” she asked as she reached for one of her fries, dunking it down into her milkshake before putting it in her mouth.
“What happened to your knuckles?” I shot back.
“A punching bag.”
“A car door,” I told her.
“Ow,” she said, wincing. “What, were you lying on the ground or something?”
“Tying my shoe,” I admitted with a headshake as I reached for the ketchup.
“Arms,” she said as she shoved an onion ring into her mouth.
“What’s wrong with your arms?” I asked, gaze moving to them.
“No,” she said with a little snort. “No, arms. It’s what I’m in. As a business.”
“Arms. As in dealing?” I asked, looking over her again.
I’d known a few arms dealers in my day. They were usually beefy guys with bodyguards always nearby.
“Should I also question why someone who is so shitty at being aware of his surroundings is in the mob?” she asked, bristling at the idea that I was judging her.
“Just wasn’t expecting that,” I said, shrugging. “There’s a pretty massive arms crew right over the border in Jersey.”
“Yeah, the bikers,” she agreed, nodding. “I get a lot of my stuff from them. They don’t like coming into the city,” she added.
“So, are the Czechs competition for you?”
“The Czechs are thieves who broke into my place and stole my entire fucking inventory,” she said, voice getting tight.
“That explains it,” I said, mumbling to myself, but her head whipped up from where she was cutting off a corner of her waffle, then setting a piece of chicken on it.
“Explains what?”
“Earlier today, a car pulled up, and they unloaded a shitton of weapons into the row house.”
“Did they?” Saylor asked, jaw getting tight, making a little muscle pop in her cheek.
“Guess those were yours,” I said.
“Ya think?” she asked, shoving some of her food in her mouth, thinking while she chewed. Likely plotting revenge, if the fiery look in her eye was anything to go by.
“How’d they get into your place?”
“The garage door,” she admitted, shaking her head at herself. “It had that fucking security feature that won’t let it close if something is in the way so animals and little kids don’t get crushed, y’know? Well, they shoved something in the way as I walked away. Didn’t see them. Then when the door opened up again, they just waltzed right in.”
“Fuck, that sucks.”
“There was no other way in. Which I assume they figured out by staking me out like we are staking them out.”
“You don’t have a guard on your inventory?”
“Well, I do now,” she said. At my expectant look, she shrugged as she stabbed another fry into her milkshake. “I stole a guard dog from the drug dealers next door. She’s already used to barking at people like she’s going to bite your face off. So I figured she was worth it.”
“You stole a dog from drug dealers,” I repeated, lips twitching, enjoying the idea more than I probably should have.
“They kept her outside year-round. Liberated her is more like it. At least she has air conditioning and heat now. And something soft to sleep on. Do you have a dog?”
“No, why?”
“Apparently, I’m supposed to name her. I’ve never named anything before.”
“Me either,” I said, nodding. “I work too much for pets.”
“I do too. But she’s going to live at my work, so, really, the only time she’ll be alone is when I’m not working. Which isn’t often.”
“If you can get your inventory back.”
“When I get my inventory back,” she corrected.
“There’s six of them. And now they have a lot of weaponry. How do you plan to take all of them on?” I asked.
She sat with that a second, a fry going soggy in her milkshake before she remembered to plop it in her mouth. “I don’t know yet, but I plan to figure it out.”
“Do you think they are planning to take over your work in the area?” I asked.
“I have no idea. It’s that or they are planning to make big moves against someone else,” she said, piercing me with those big brown eyes. “Is that what your boss is worried about?”
“More or less. I’m supposed to figure out what their plans are and report back.”
“So, what I’m hearing is I should hope that they want to off all of you guys. Then I can just waltz in there, step over some bodies, and collect my goods.”
“It’s sweet how concerned you are for my welfare,” I teased, getting a small lip twitch out of her. That felt like a feat, because I got the feeling that Saylor was not the kind of woman who smiled easily or often.