Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“You provide security systems for a drug lord?” I find that, well, stupid.
“Miguel is technically a farmer.”
“A farmer who helps his brother traffic drugs and who uses you for security.”
“Because they pay well,” he says.
“Money isn’t everything.”
“Tell that to Sofie. Miguel is one of her clients, too. It’s how she found me. Word of mouth.”
Sofie? My Sofie. “I will absolutely have a discussion with her about why she’s life-coaching criminals.”
“Maybe because they’re the ones who need it the most.”
“Good point.” Skippy isn’t completely stupid.
“I’ll send you the link to the video Carter recorded. But it’s definitely Roman Gusano, Miguel’s brother. All I ask is that you keep me out of it, okay? I’ll be losing my biggest clients to incarceration.”
Not exactly my highest nail right now. We need to find Carter. “Skippy, where do Miguel and his brother live?”
“They mostly spend their time here in Dallas. But I would be careful. They have excellent security.”
“Now’s not the time to boast,” I scold.
“Sorry.”
I have a thought. “Are you able to tap into their system so we can review any activity over the last twenty-four hours?”
“Of course.”
Then we’d be able to see if Carter is on the property. “And how hard would it be to get in there if the system were to suddenly shut down?”
“Easy. Especially if you waited for Miguel and his brother to leave for the day, which they always do.”
I like it. Except for one thing: “Why did Miguel’s brother take Carter?”
“Watch the video. Look, I gotta go.”
“I’ll call you later,” I say.
“I’d prefer if you didn’t, but I get the feeling that won’t deter you.”
“Nope. Bye-bye.”
A few moments later, Skippy sends the link. I click it and hit play.
Holy shit. Carter really is a nut. And he’s definitely gotten himself into a sticky situation.
“He borrowed money from a drug lord?” Logan pinches his brow as we stand between both our cars in an empty parking lot. “Fucking Carter.”
I don’t know where we are, but this is the address Logan gave to meet up. The gray concrete building behind us is nondescript with only a set of black numbers in the corner by the front door. I wouldn’t call the neighborhood sketchy or anything, but there aren’t any people around despite the amount of self-storage facilities and warehouses I passed on the way here.
“Why would he take a loan from a narco?” Logan asks.
“One of his producers dropped out, and he was looking for a way to finance his film. He said it was the sort of project that would put him on the map.”
“But how did Carter get involved with those guys?” Logan asks. “I just don’t get it.”
It’s a great question. “What I don’t get is why Carter was making another film with me in it. Or why he does porn on the side. Where does he find the time for all this stuff?”
Logan looks at me. “What porn?”
“You know, the Mr. Sticky Nuts thing?” Please don’t tell me Logan isn’t aware.
Logan’s expression turns into a void.
“You didn’t know?” I ask.
Logan’s lips flatten, and his jaw starts working.
Have I hit a nerve? Maybe he does know, but he’s ashamed of his brother and doesn’t want anyone to know. I can’t say I blame him. Especially because they’re twins. People could get them confused and think Logan is the porn star. Not good for business.
“Logan?”
“I’m Mr. Sticky Nuts,” he blurts out.
I take a step back. “What?”
“I’m the one who enacts food-related fantasies for money.”
“You? You’re Mr. Sticky Nuts?”
Logan looks away. “I don’t have time to explain right now.”
“Okay.” I blink, not knowing what to say. “You have a really nice penis. Balls, too.”
“Excuse me?”
Why the hell did I say that? Sure, it was the first thing that came to mind, but I’m smart enough to come up with a decent compliment. Like, I respect your individualism and entrepreneurial spirit. But no. I brought up his dick.
“Sorry.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I was trying to make you feel better.”
“I don’t need to feel better. I have an amazing cock. Remember?” he says cooly. “It’s why I haven’t been able to move on from that business. The money is just too good. My oil venture was supposed to be the beginning of a new chapter.” He snarls at me. “Until somebody came along and tanked the deal.”
My stomach feels like it’s filling with lead weights. “I’m sorry. I really am.”
“You already said that,” he snaps, but he’s really saying, “I don’t give a crap.”
“So what do you want to do next?”
“Call the police,” he replies.
“I’m not disagreeing with that approach. But I would like to point out the fact we have an inside person who won’t need warrants or permission to intrude on the Gusanos’ house.”
“And?”
“And Skippy said he can screen the footage on the security cameras and figure out where they have Carter.”