Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94527 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
“You havin’ a party over there without me, Ford?” Colm asked.
I let out a breathy laugh and checked my face in the rearview. Yeah, I looked good.
To make a sharp turn, I had to cross the corner of a sidewalk, and I winced, narrowly avoiding driving into a trash can and possibly a few pedestrians.
“If one jumps outta the car, you take the runner,” I told Colm and retrieved my personal phone.
“Copy that,” he replied.
I located Eric’s number and pressed call before I activated the speaker. I already had a dozen texts from him and Finn wanting updates.
“What’s your status?” Eric demanded, all business.
“Requesting backup,” I replied and sniffed again. It was starting to hit me. I relayed the info I had, along with the neighborhood we were in, while I swerved onto a new street with enough force to get my heart racing even without the coke. “If we can get some delay on the authorities, that would be great too, ’cause I’m not sure we can pull this off without detection.”
“We have three cops on hold—I’ll redirect their routes,” Eric said. “Do you want them to interfere?”
“Not at the moment—shite. Colm, we’re both up!” I rushed out the words and pulled up on the curb. “They’re taking off on foot.”
“Right behind you,” he answered.
Before I could exchange another word with Eric, I jumped out of my car, slammed the door shut, then sprinted down an alley and pressed the lock button on the fob. I’d kill a motherfucker if they stole my girl.
I’d grown attached.
“Where the fuck are they going?” I growled.
Rage, adrenaline, and blow were a perfect combination, and I felt it surging through me, fueling me, adding strength and speed to every step. Down another street with more people around, and I wondered—there were a lot of nightclubs in the area.
It was also JJ Doyle’s turf, and he ran a tighter ship than his old man ever could back when he was the crew boss. Which made me wanna rule out ambush.
Aw, goddammit! I knew it. “Colm!” I yelled.
“On your tail!”
“They’re gonna try to shake us in there!” I zeroed in on the big nightclub farther down the street, the only venue open here at this hour, and there was nowhere else to go. “You work shit out with the security and stay near the entrance!”
It was the oldest trick in the book. Go into a busy place, make rounds, leave again while the person chasing you was lost in the crowd.
Or this was still an ambush and I was gonna get royally pissed at JJ for letting Italians move in, and I was gonna die. And if I didn’t die, I was gonna kill JJ after he’d served his purpose in taking down the Italians.
As soon as I’d gotten confirmation from Colm, I sped up and braced myself to push through security. A dozen or so people were huddled outside, some in line, some smoking cigarettes.
I sucked in a breath and watched the greaseballs force their own entry, and it provided a pinch of comfort. If they’d been let in right away, I would’ve screeched to a stop. Instead, I heard the commotion mingling with the thumping music. One guard trying and failing to restrain one of the Italians, another guard shouting for them to get out. But they were already out of sight.
Then it was my turn.
“Everybody, calm down!” a security guard barked out at the people in line.
With my heart thundering in my chest, I ran up to the entrance as fast as I possibly could, jumped over the velvet rope, and slipped between the two beefy guards.
“What the fuck is wrong with people tonight!” I heard someone yell after me.
Past the coat check, a bar, and a crowded hallway of bathrooms—where I didn’t see anyone acting like someone had just run through—I landed in a dark sea of moving bodies. Psychedelic trance music blared out from the speakers, and white strobe lights moved like static over the crowd in an epileptic person’s worst nightmare.
The beat didn’t merely pulse through the foundation of the building; it reverberated through my body too.
Ironically, one of the first faces I registered belonged to someone I knew. JJ’s little brother was here hustling ecstasy and whatever else.
Christ. I wiped my forehead and swallowed dryly. It was the oldest trick in the book for a reason; it tended to be effective, even more so if an emergency exit was easily accessible. It was damn near impossible to pick out just one person when everyone moved in tandem, the lighting was poor, and the music pounded the way it did.
I scanned the area as thoroughly as I could and searched for disruptions in the pattern of dancers that followed the beat. As the chorus hit, everybody started jumping up and down, and machines released smoke to make matters worse.