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“Oh, Christ,” he mumbles, sniffing, wiping at his nose.
I throw him the towel. “Cover yourself up. I can’t concentrate with your limp dick staring me in the face.”
I peek at James, and he looks familiarly stoic. Dark. Deadly. “Anything to say before I tell Bean here what’s going to happen?” I ask, wondering if he wants a piece of the action.
“Yes.”
“What?”
James takes the lamp off the nightstand and clouts Bean around the head with it. “That’s all.”
“Lovely. So, yes, as I was saying.” I frown at Bean as he falls back, eyes closed, and my shoulders drop. “For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, kicking his leg. “You knocked him out.”
“Oops.” James tosses the lamp aside and walks out, leaving me, open-mouthed, watching him go. “Your games get boring after a while.”
“I thought you loved my games.” I lean down and give Bean a few slaps around the face, bringing him round. He blinks up at me. “The Enigma just saved your life. Not many men can claim that. Do I need to explain what happens next?”
He shakes his head, blinking.
“Good.” I leave him, catching up with James on the stairs. “You’re no fun anymore. I remember the days when you used to chop limbs off and talk dirty to your prey.” I pull out my cigarettes and light up as we walk out into the sunshine.
“You won’t say that when we find Sandy.” He fires the fob at the Range Rover. “Who next?”
“We’re picking up Brad.” I get in the car and roll the window down. “Mind if I smoke in here?”
“Yes.” He starts the car and pulls away.
I take a drag and do my best to exhale out of the window. “We need to take the girls out for dinner. I miss our double dates.”
“You took Rose out last week.”
“That was last week.”
“Does she still think you’re having a fling?”
I laugh. Yeah, I’m fucking my way through Miami in between insomnia and murdering all the fuckers that refuse to let us have our peace.
28
BRAD
* * *
For the first time, Ella isn’t on me like a wolf when I enter the club, as she has been each time since Nolan had a fight with a speeding car, asking if he’s okay, when he’ll be back. She’s worried. She can’t fake that. She briefly looks up at me from where she’s sitting in a booth on the other side of the club before quickly giving her cell her attention again.
“Is she okay?” I ask Mason, stopping at the bar. Oh Jesus, don’t tell me Nolan’s broken the bad news and finished it with her. I demanded it, I know, but I haven’t got the capacity to replace her at the moment.
Mason peeks up at me, eyebrows high. “She’s not happy.”
Dare I ask? “Why?”
Nolan appears at the door on a pair of crutches.
“That’s why,” Mason says. “She told me to send him home. I told her I don’t have the authority to do that.”
“As of now, I give you the authority. What the fuck, Nolan?” I say, looking up and down at the shorts and T-shirt he has on, a sneaker on one foot.
“I couldn’t get my suit on.”
