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Fabio
Signaling to Darius I’m stepping outside, he nods before unloading on the target as I hurry out of the range and close the door behind me. Glancing around the boss’s basement to make sure no one’s around, I unbutton my dress shirt, snapping a pic of my new ink—cat scratch marks on my pec, memorializing where Katerina clawed me. I send the pic to my naughty girl.
Houdini has some tricks up his sleeve. I love it!
That’s not my pet name.
My bravado is complete bullshit when it comes to this woman; Katerina could call me whatever she wants, and I’d come running like the pussy-whipped puppy I am.
Hey, my friend Taylor has been wondering where I’ve been. Can I tell her about us?
I grin from ear to ear at the fact there’s an us.
Sure, you can tell her your man owns a restaurant.
Explains why these leggings are so tight.
If they’re the leggings you wore to our first poker lesson, my dick’s hard all over again. Not only am I going to spank that naughty pussy, I’m going to spank the sexiest ass I’ve ever seen. Now, stop distracting me, you bad girl, so I can get some work done today.
I force myself to pocket my phone, taking a few minutes so my dick can calm the fuck down.
Returning to the range, I find Darius blasting the head of his target—making a perfect T through the eyes and nose. Now that I think about it, today’s a terrible day to break the news to him of me and Katerina.
Moving to my lane, I grab my pistol and fall into a rhythm. A gun isn’t my M.O., but I’m a decent marksman.
Finishing up, we holster our pistols and hang up the headphones before exiting the range. “Nice work,” Darius says, fist bumping me.
“Thanks. What’s the game plan for John Davis?” Now that the Luna situation is no longer a five-alarm fire—Vince found her—it’s back to problem number one. “I’ve got guys watching Ace’s, but the problem is they don’t know what to look for. We still don’t have a solid ID on John. I have my dealers in the backrooms keeping their ears open; drunk men playing cards like to talk, but no one’s so much as made a peep about the man.”
“We’ve been focusing on AC, but maybe that’s our problem,” Darius muses. “Ace’s might not even be connected to John. That information initially came from Matteo, and we all know how reliable that fucker was.”
“True, but somebody was running a sophisticated underground gambling ring at Ace’s,” I point out. “Plus, why would Russell try to pop you?”
“Maybe it was Russell running the show, and he sensed I was a threat; he wasn’t wrong,” Darius muses.
“Hopefully, we’ll know more once my crew watches all of the security footage we swiped from Aces,” I comment.
Darius nods. “You got eyes on the construction project at The Diamond?”
“We’ve had to back off after we vandalized the site; things are still a little too hot,” I report.
He considers before announcing, “Let’s roll. You’re driving.”
“Sure. Where to?”
“Jersey Motor Inn. Let’s have a come to Jesus talk with Big Benny; maybe he’s heard something.”
I groan. “If my new ride gets stolen, I’m gonna be pissed.” There’s no seedier place than Jersey Motor Inn.
“You trying to show off for the ladies now that you’re a big shot?” my friend ribs.
“Nah.” Not ladies; only one particular lady I’m interested in impressing. And now that I think about it, telling Darius about me and Katerina at the range, in this close of range, is terrible timing.
Chapter
Twenty-One
Fabio
