“We’ll have eyes on you at all times, but if somethin’ goes wrong ...”
“It won’t,” she assures him.
Then she looks to me, I know my face is hard, I can feel just how tight my jaw is right now.
“It’s going to be okay,” she tells me, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “I’m tough. I’ve got this.”
“Last time we sent a girl in, it ended very fuckin’ badly ...” Mykel tells her.
“Hey!” Waverly slaps him on the shoulder. “I did good.”
He meets her eyes. “We all got into a lot of fuckin’ trouble because of that. Kendric still has to go to court and could very likely be charged if we don’t finish this now. We have to do it right.”
“We’re doin’ it right,” Kendric mutters.
“We’ll be waitin’ to back you up if you need it,” Samson tells her.
She smiles at them all, giving them the kind of look that would soften any man. “Thank you all. I’ll be okay.”
We settle into our rooms and Aviana gets herself ready for her meeting with Benedict tonight. She claims to know where to find him, and I’m certain she probably does. She hasn’t told me a lot about how she knows him, but she has told me she remembers a place he owned and was often at, especially on a Saturday night. So, we can only fucking hope that he’s there and she can manage to lure him away.
We’ll be waiting.
“Well, hey!”
I turn to see Zariah striding toward us, suitcase in hand. She was never not going to be part of this. She, more than most, has good reason to want to be there when we take this operation and fucking destroy it. She’s been on the island, she’s been used by Blanche and more than that, she is the only one of us to have met Samson’s daughter. Because of that, she’s invested.
“How’s it goin’?” I ask her, shielding my eyes from the sun.
“It’s good, Cohen. How are you?”
I nod. “Livin’.”
She smiles and then looks to Aviana. “How are you, honey?”
“I’m doing good.”
“Well, you’re doing a pretty incredible thing for us tonight.”
Aviana smiles and then lets us know she has to start getting ready before disappearing inside. Kendric comes out of his room at the sound of Zariah’s voice and, in minutes, the two of them are back in there. The way he just looked at her, tells me he’s going to be fucking her in less than five minutes.
“You good, brother?”
I see Mykel walking down the path, cigarette in hand.
“I’m gettin’ there.”
“She’s goin’ to come out of this,” he says, stopping and leaning against a pole, inhaling deeply.
“How many chances are we goin’ to get here? We’ve fucked up so many times, and so far we’ve kept everyone safe. What if she’s the end of that lucky streak?”
“You’re thinkin’ out of fear. Aviana is smart, and you have to believe she knows what she’s doin’. Gotta trust her.”
I cross my arms. “Ready for this shit to be over. Rather go back to runnin’ fuckin’ drugs and weapons. At least you always knew what you were dealin’ with.”
Mykel chuckles. “Fuckin’ A, I hear you.”
“You find much out about your parents in New York? Haven’t even had a fuckin’ chance to talk to you about that.”
“Bits and pieces, not enough to give me anything I can use. I’ll get there. Club business is more important right now.”
“How are you and Waverly travelin’?”
Mykel grins. “Fuckin’ wild, that girl, but I wouldn’t have her any other way.”
I chuckle. “She fuckin’ sure is.”
He claps me on the back as he pushes off the pole. “It’ll work out, brother. We’ve got you covered.”
Yeah, yeah, they do.
But right now, I don’t fucking know if that’s enough.
It has to be, right?
It just fucking has to be.
18NOW – AVIANA
I walk into the bar where I’m praying Benedict will be. Considering he owns it, or at least half of it, I’m hoping he’ll be here. The few times I was brought here, it was always a Saturday night and he would always be in his office, just watching everyone, his eyes scanning the crowd. Benedict is an incredibly powerful man, and he has his finger in a lot of pies, so to speak.
I go right over to the bar after shuffling past a crowd of incredibly well-dressed people. I look great, no doubt about it, but these people make me look like I’ve come in off the streets. I stick out like a sore thumb, which is kind of the point but also may attract a bit too much attention. Either way, I’m here, and there is no backing down now.
I order a drink, ignoring the stares of women who walk by and give me a once over that shows, very clearly, their disapproval with what I’m wearing.
Like I give a shit.
I’m not here for their opinions, I’m here to get a job done.
Besides, my short, tight, red dress is beautiful, and I know I look great in it. Just because I’m not wearing what likes like the equivalent of a fucking ball gown doesn’t mean I don’t belong here.
Bitches.
“I wonder who let the trash in,” a woman says as she walks past.
I have a drink of vodka cranberry in my hands and she has a gorgeous white dress on. I spin around quickly, letting the drink fly out and land all over her perfect outfit. She squeals immediately, waving her hands around like I’ve thrown hot acid on her.
“Oops,” I say innocently. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
“You whore!” she wails. “This dress cost me thousands of dollars. You’ve ruined it.”
Whoopsie.
Oh well.
I give her a smile and say, “It must have been the trashier side of me that simply didn’t see you. Sorry.”
She scowls at me and, with a turn and a huff, she and her friends disappear. I grin and face the bar again where the bartender is smiling at me. “That was ballsy.”
I shrug. “What can I
