AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Whatever.Soyour boyfriend,” Carly said, rolling her eyes. After a moment, she asked, “Hey, are there any other cute boys at this MC…”
“Don’t even think about it,” Piper said.
16
Special Agent Harris pulled into his driveway, parked, and sat for a while before turning off his car. Nothing was going right.
Not just with this case. His whole life seemed like it was coming apart at the seams. The house in front of him was empty; his wife and teenage kids were living elsewhere, and had been for over a year. His marriage and family had become a casualty of his life.
And now this. This Piper Marino and her affection for the MC that he had to bring down. Every time he thought she was on board, and might have found something he could use against the MC, she backed off and wanted to tell him about how the MC really didn’t seem like all that bad of a group of guys.
Oh, she had talent, that much he knew. That was why he’d picked her. That, and her idealism to take down the cartels that had been the cause of so much of the carnage she’d seen on her trip to Juarez. He knew he could use that against her, leverage it to get her into the MC and do whatever it took to tear it all down.
But that wasn’t happening. Instead, she took on a bunch of bank robbers single-handedly, which was probably going to end up earning her a commendation for bravery, once he let his superiors know the details. And even worse, the MC had nothing to do with the robbery. In fact, it was starting to sound like they were trying to catch the robbers themselves.
Nothing was working. Like his life. He got out of his car, not bothering to lock it, and shambled with slumped shoulders to the front door of his dark, empty house.
He was so lost to his self-pity that he didn’t notice the distinctive scratch marks on his lock. Instead, he unlocked his door, closed it behind him, and tossed his keys on the desk next to the door mostly by memory.
It was as he clicked on the light that he heard the voice.
“Good evening, Special Agent Harris,” it said.
He froze. There, in the living room right in front of him, sat the man who had been pulling his strings for months now. Navarro.
Middle management for one of the most deadly cartels in Mexico. Ambitious, ruthless, and hell-bent to make inroads into the area of Pennsylvania controlled by the Razor’s Edge MC.
He wasn’t alone. Standing around the living room were four other men. Killers, Harris knew, just by looking at them. Gunmen who had probably been ending lives since they were in their early teens.
The killers were standing, looking ready to tear him apart on a moment’s notice, but Navarro sat, relaxed, in Harris’s easy chair. He looked comfortable, even in his tailored suit, as if this was actually his house and he was welcoming an old friend as a guest.
“What are you doing here?” Harris asked. He tried his best to keep his voice level, in control.
“That’s not very friendly,” Navarro said with a smile. “No hello, how are you, nice to see you?”
“Hello, Navarro. How are you? Nice to see you. Now what are you doing here?”
“I am here to look after my interests,” Navarro said. “Our interests, if you recall.”
“You won’t let me forget,” Harris said.
“Steven… may I call you Steven?” Navarro said, not waiting for permission before continuing. “We have to be held accountable for the consequences of our actions. You, as an officer of the law, of all people should know this.”
“I don’t need a lecture on accountability,” Harris said.
“No?” Navarro said. “Good. Because where I come from, a man must pay his debts. Must. There is no alternative. That includes gambling debts, along with the consequences of other… indiscretions.”
Harris bristled at the reminder of his misdeeds. He needed a lecture from Navarro like he needed a hole in the head, but if he wasn’t careful, he might end up with exactly that. Navarro travelled with a pack of killers for a reason.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Navarro said. “I could care less if you like to indulge in betting on horses and making time with prostitutes. But when a man can no longer pay his debts with currency… he must trade in other commodities.”
Harris said, “I think you enjoy giving this lecture.”
“I promise you, I do not. I would much rather simply collect what I am owed,” Navarro said, leaning forward in his chair and fixing Harris with a stare. “You owe me, Harris.”
Harris was the one who looked away first before answering. “We’re making progress.”
