Soap cocked the pistol. The sound echoed loudly in the underground space. The asshole pissed himself. My nose curled slightly at the smell of urine mixed with blood.
“Wait! Hold on, let’s not be rash!” he begged in a suddenly whiny voice.
“Give us something, or I let my friend here blow your brains across the room,” I said in a sinister whisper.
“Hugo. The guy’s name is Hugo,” he whimpered.
“Hugo, who?” I demanded.
“All I know is Hugo! I message him when I need another batch. Once a month he sends me a new number with a random area code, so I don’t know where he is exactly.”
“Bossman?” Soap questioned.
“Get his phone,” I ordered Joker. He grabbed it from the pile of the dude’s shit and handed it to me.
“What’s he saved as?”
“Hugo Boss,” the guy muttered. I looked up from his phone and gave him an are-you-serious gaze.
“This is how things are gonna play out. I’m gonna dial your good friend Hugo. You’re gonna tell him you need another shipment.” Unwavering, my gaze held his.
“But I just got one,” he started to argue.
“Shut the fuck up and listen to me,” I said with exaggerated patience. Something I didn’t have much of at that point. “You had a boom this month. Sold out like it was a chance at Willy Wonka’s last golden ticket. You need a refill.”
“But—” Soap smacked him like a bitch.
“What part of shut the fuck up didn’t you understand?” he asked the guy.
We told him what he needed to know about the plan. What we didn’t tell him was that Venom’s boys were waiting on stand-by for a cleanup and disposal of his ass once we had what we wanted. Piece of shit was selling that shit to fucking kids as young as eleven. What kind of morally reprehensible dickwad did shit like that? Without remorse, even.
“Now, do you understand? Nod if you do.” I slowly enunciated every syllable. The guy furiously nodded.
“Remember, he gets suspicious in any way and my friend here is gonna cut your fingers off one by one, then shoot your dick off.” The pussy whimpered and nodded again.
I dialed the number and put the phone on speaker.
“Why are you calling me? You just got the black hoodies you ordered,” the mechanically distorted voice came through the speaker.
Stuart did as he was told, and by the time the call ended, we had a meetup scheduled for the next week to get another shipment of “black hoodies.”
Asshole played it off like a pro; I had to give him credit.
“Toss him in the cage.”
He was yelling as I walked out of the dank cellar. Dumb fucker actually thought we were going to let him go and risk him running. Not happening.
Now we simply had to bide our time until next week.
13
Hailey
“50 Shades of Crazy”—Chase Rice
“I was surprised to hear from you,” my date said with a smirk.
“Well, as you know, it’s been a really busy few months. My mom got hurt, then I’ve been working insanely long hours after—well, there’s simply been no time for myself at all. Things have finally settled down, I hope.” I gave him what I hoped was an innocent smile.
“Honestly? I thought you were seeing Luke Matthews,” he said before taking a sip of his drink.
My lips flattened as I held in my emotions. Then I flatly replied, “No.”
“My mistake,” he said with a crooked grin.
That out of the way, I encouraged him to prattle on about himself, since he was so good at it.
While we ate, I pretended to drink copious amounts of alcohol. Little did he know, I’d ordered a Sprite before he arrived. Then when the waiter came by, I simply requested another of the same on my own tab.
“Your job must be sooooo fascinating!” I simpered. Inside my head, I was making the universal gag motion.
He preened as he rubbed his jaw. For about the eighteenth time since we’d met at the restaurant, he stared at my cleavage. Exactly as I planned when I wore the low-cut, clingy sweater dress.
“Ms. Monroe.” My back stiffened at the sound of Luke’s voice.
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
“Uh, hello, Mr. Matthews,” I replied with a falsely bright smile. From the corner of my eye, I saw my date lean back in his seat, one hand loosely holding his glass.
“Imagine seeing you here—with Officer Edwards, no less. I wasn’t aware that you knew each other like this,” he said in a deceptively calm voice. The fury in his eyes belied his words and tone.
A quick glance at Chet revealed his narrowed gaze flashing back and forth between me and Luke. His shoulders had tensed, and he had a white-knuckle grip on his fork.
Inside, I screamed at Luke, Why do you care? You didn’t want me!
Purposely ignoring his comment, I took a sip of my drink. Then it occurred to me that we were at a nice restaurant over at the lakes. “And who are you with tonight?” I asked in a manner that reflected innocent curiosity as I screamed inside.
“Luke, there you are. When I came out of the restroom, you were gone,” a woman said from behind him. My own anger flared until he stepped to the side.
“Mom, I’d like you to meet Ms. Monroe from the Leon Adolescent Drug Prevention and Rehabilitation Center.”
Oh my God. His mother!
The woman smiled warmly. “My name is Mary,” she said as she reached out to shake my hand. Her eyes were the same dark blue as her son’s, and it was obvious he had his mother’s cheekbones. “Thank you so much for what you do there.”
She seemed to blink away tears.
My cheeks heated at the jealousy that had spiked when I thought he was on a date. Then I realized that for all intents and purposes that’s what I looked
