Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Even Patton isn’t looking like his usual lazy and collected self. His face is flushed under his scruff as he watches Arch pace around, the same way a curious bird might observe a caged tiger.
“This is bad,” Archer says for the fifth time. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, we’ve established that,” I say. “Now we need a solution.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Not so easy.” The pen I’m holding snaps, spilling black ink across the table. “Shit, what next?”
“What about the cameras? Is there any way we can get the surveillance footage from the laundromat?” Patton asks.
“Not a chance,” Archer answers before I can. “Not without a warrant, and we won’t get it before Haute’s pals descend on Dex and Juniper for messing with their stash.”
“My friend on the Kansas City PD said as much. But she’s stepping up patrols for my house and the Sugar Bowl. If they want to give us a real mafia send-off, they’ll have their work cut out for them. More likely they lay low and delete the footage as soon as they see it,” I say. “Haute’s like that, too. His first thought is covering his tracks.”
“The money will be gone, too, so there’s no real proof. If we’re not careful, he’ll slip through our fingers and your dumb ass will wind up hiding out in Casper, Wyoming, shoveling a hundred tons of horse shit to pass the time.”
I wince, hating that he’s too right.
I can’t stay in Kansas City if we don’t get this un-fucked promptly. I’ll be lucky to grow my beard out and find enough firewood to split in my hermit crab cabin, trying to stave off insanity.
And that isn’t even considering Junie’s fate.
She can’t stay in this city if strange men can come after her any time—meaning no Sugar Bowl, no money, and no life.
And won’t we make the sweetest misery-loves-company couple ever if I drag her along to a dusty little town with more bison than people?
Sonofafuck.
How did this become my life?
“Cannot believe this shit.” Archer spits the curse like it could scorch the air. “We’re boxed in. The deal’s off, obviously. He can take his sweet time clearing up anything relating to his operation. He’s got the staff to sweep that golf course squeaky clean in a few hours. For all I know, we’ll all have to watch our fucking backs.”
My brother gives me a grizzled look that cuts deep.
I’d rather have him tear my head off than what I’m feeling right now, knowing he’s sweating for us, for the company, for Colt.
Even the slight possibility that this shit could wreck my nephew’s life boils my blood. I rake a furious hand through my hair, dead silent because this whole situation is beyond words.
Patton looks at me with sympathy I don’t deserve.
Yeah. You know it’s bad when the family fuck-up can’t enjoy the fact that he isn’t derailing everything for once.
My entire body buzzes like a live wire.
Junie’s in danger and she’s pissed as hell. She’s also completely done with me.
I can’t begin to process the agony, wishing it never stopped being pretend. When did it go and turn so real it’s leaving me dizzy, crawling under my skin and clawing out my heart like she matters, dammit, like she was actually someone I—
“Dex!” Archer snaps. “I need you with us.”
“I was thinking,” I lie. “Okay, hear me out. We can’t do anything about the footage or the money without the police.”
“And?” Archer raises an eyebrow.
“So what if I go to Haute myself? There’s nothing stopping that. We’re just two people doing business. Nothing more.”
“Go and—what? Confront him?” Patton shakes his head. “Bro, I actually thought you were going to have a good idea.”
“You’ll like this one, then.” I fold my arms, waiting for their attention. “We need proof. Haute isn’t about to let us get any. The money’s gone. The laundromat, who knows. There’s nothing we can do. So, I go to Haute and I tell him I found out his dirty little secret. I tell him we want in.”
For a second, nobody breathes.
Archer’s eyes widen, staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.
I wonder if I have, if the stress was finally too much.
Then Patton whoops and slaps me on the back. “Balls to the fucking wall! I like it.”
Too easy.
I look at Archer, knowing my buttoned-down big brother will be the one who’ll fight this tooth and nail.
“It’s simple. He confesses and incriminates himself. I get the proof we need, and we go to the cops. Missouri’s a one-party consent state for recording, meaning he doesn’t have to know. Hell, maybe he’ll slip enough about who he’s really working for, what group. I take my recording to the police, they get their warrant, his businesses get turned inside out, and we get plenty of protection to fend off any reprisals. Maybe we can even buy the Mill anyway when it’s confiscated and put up for auction.”