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“As I was saying, logistics will get ironed out later. Phisher, what’s the catch on the CCTVs?” Prez calls, jotting shit down.
“Nothing new, unfortunately. We’re working on gathering more plate info, but the ones coming out all have clean records.”
“I wonder if they would’ve camped out, knowing we’d run records?” I ponder, tapping my nails on the table. So much for not talking. Oopsie.
“That’s a possibility.” Phiser nods in agreement, looking around the room. “Anyone from the task force find anything?”
“No, sir,” a prospect denies, not bothering to rise from their seat.
“We don’t have the manpower to scour hours and hours of footage, hoping for a potential bust.” Knuckles grunts in agreement, but I don’t feel settled. Looking at Tornado, I catch him already looking at me.
Narrowing my eyes, we stare. Chatter continues as I’m swallowed whole by his gaze. The blue in them pulls me under, the swirl of emotions being pushed to the surface just as quickly as they are pulled back under by the current.
I shake my head, closing my eyes before I get tugged into them any further. He’s a dangerous creature, that’s for sure. Make no mistake, I don’t trust him. But my gut is also telling me not to write him off just yet.
Chapter Fourteen
Tornado
It’s been a fucking week trying to get her to open up to me. I can tell she doesn’t trust me, but thankfully I don’t need her trust. I need her to just follow the orders. Go along with them, preferably blindly. It helps significantly that we’ve got serious sexual chemistry. Not only her, but I have noticed a little something with Knuckles. I’m not sure what, but I can’t stop taking longer-than-appropriate glances at him.
A couple days ago, I walked in on him and Leather working out. He was bench pressing her like she weighed nothing. I stood off to the side, not wanting to interrupt their gaggle session. He was sweaty, probably from finishing a workout before lifting her for fun. The biceps on that man…they are drool worthy. I will admit I’m openly attracted to both men and women, but I have never been with a guy before. I was always too shy, shockingly enough.
I find them both extremely attractive. Something about the tongue on Leather just really gets me going. There’s a clear picture as to why people are interested in her. She’s hot as balls, quicker than a whip, and knows how to nail a guy in more ways than one. Once she follows through with this, I can go about my own shit.
What I don’t understand is how she would get wrapped up with those people? They are dangerous, even for her. Unfortunately, I know from personal experience.
“Tornado!” A baritone voice calls, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You daydreaming, princess?” Prez asks, an uproar of snickers following.
“No,” I scowl, pulling my feet off the table and straightening in the chair.
“Then why don’t you tell me what the plan is?” His smug expression makes me want to punch him.
“Something about crossing the border and a hauler. Is it a done deal?” I question nonchalantly. The key is to act disinterested. It works sometimes.
“Good try,” he muses, shaking his head. And sometimes it doesn’t work.
“I exist to please.” They continue to snicker, muttering to themselves as Prez and I have a mini stare down. Not wanting to challenge his position, I break eye contact.
“As I was saying,” he starts, giving me a pointed look. “We’ll have to split man-power around the club if we get this contract. We’re working on implementing the sign on's for the club. Ramping up security will be necessary while we get shit sorted. Bookie said we’re starting to flatline since we’re waiting for this to pull through.”
“Why haven’t we taken smaller contracts in the meantime?” Leather asks, plopping a piece of gum into her mouth then leaning her elbows on the table as she glances at a file in front of her. “We can’t just sit with our thumbs up our ass. They are not used to being pressured by clubs and their records indicate this is the first time they have used manpower.”
“And?” I quip, turning fully to look at her.
“And,” she stretches, leveling her gaze on me. “That’s not suspicious? The contract was pretty fucking vague what we’d be moving. I have other leads that I can track while we’re twiddling our thumbs. There’s one on that side of the border that I think we can run. While we’re there, we can scout. Give us some intel on the CJNC and if the contract is granted to us, we’re already there to help with diversion.”
He stares at her for a moment. “How long will you be gone?” We all watch as she glances through her file.
“I would say about a week. Two at the most,” she responds confidently. Prez tilts his head back and forth, obviously debating.
“What would you be doing?”
“Funny you should ask,” she responds, a wicked smirk on her lips. It’s definitely the version that gets men to drop on their knees for her. “We’re scouting for intel on another cartel that’s running interference there. It should be an easy in and out. The tip came in from one of the understudies in CJNC and we’re scouting possible scouts. I know it’s odd, but I confirmed it with Tiny. It’ll be a few days there, a few days scouting and a few days back. There can be weather delays, but the upcoming days are all supposed to be pretty clear.”
“Where?”
“You sure do ask a lot of questions,” she sasses, flicking a brow up. He folds his arms, waiting patiently while they have another little stare down. She gives in with a pathetic eye roll. “Ugh, fine. It’ll be in Vancouver.”
