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“Would you like the honor Tinker Bell? Or should I?” I said as I looked to him.
He froze for a moment before snapping. “They’re out of their fucking minds, sir! We don’t even know who these motherfuckers are—!”
“Dear God, stop yelling,” Mel held her fingers to her ears. “This can be proven quite easily, just check your email Gus.”
He took his phone out and scrolled through his emails, reading the files that the FBI had tried to hide, even that of Tinker Bell’s family. The family no one knew of; two little girls and a pregnant wife.
Three.
Two.
One.
“You bastard!” Gus screeched as he lunged for him.
Before he could reach him, Tinker Bell tried to make a run for it. It was pathetic attempt. I thought he would have gone down with more honor than that. Holding on to his arms, the guards pulled him back to Gus. He struggled but it didn’t matter.
“You’re going to wish you were dead by the time I’m through with you.”
“Actually,” Mel said as she rose from her chair, “we would like the pleasure of getting rid of him.”
“Why? What the fuck do you want with him?”
“Let’s just say our bosses want to make an example out of him. But don’t worry, you will have proof that he’s gone,” I stated.
Mel clapped as she turned to look at his men. “Now which one of you gentlemen would like to escort our prize to the car?”
“What makes you think I’m just going to hand him over so quickly?” Gus was thinking a bit too much.
“Because if you don’t, every one of your consumers will think that you’ve been working with the FBI and so will your bosses. So tell me, does Tinker Bell really mean that much to you?” I asked him.
He swallowed and shook his head. “Just bring me the proof.”
“We said you were going to get it and you will. Word of advice though; start looking for a new city. I’m sure Agent Tyson has already told them more than enough to put you away for life.” I stood in front of the man who held his head high as if he had not just tried to run like the little bitch he was.
“We were going to kill you quickly, but then you threatened us.”
“Bye, Gus.”
Mel and I walk away as his men dragged out the agent. The great thing about Gus’ parties was the fact that drugs were so rampant that almost everyone there was high on something. None of them cared that we’re dragging a reluctant man through the house. They were in their own personal high.
People were selfish and self-serving. They were ruthless and didn’t even know it.
MELODY
“Liam, he’s dead, you can stop now,” I said as I leaned against the rails of the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge. The bridge had been shut down so there was no chance of anyone driving across it. All we needed were police officers at both ends to let the motorists know that the bridge was closed. The D.C. police were harder to pay off than the Chicago police, but not by much.
Liam had beaten into Tinker Bell’s face so badly that both his eyes were swollen shut. We knew he hadn’t known much, but we didn’t expect him to be so clueless. He had been undercover for eight months, most likely waiting for Gus to refer to the Callahan family. But our name was never openly mentioned. We referred to ourselves as the bosses, and all those who communicated directly with the dealers were simply referred to as “tax collectors.”
“Kill joy,” Liam muttered, as I pulled out the man’s badge along with a note that read “Rat.” I placed both items over Agent Tyson’s head.
Taking the rope, Liam wrapped it around Tyson’s neck before he tied the other end to the rails. Then we picked him up and threw him over and watched as his bodyweight pulled the rope taut. He bounced and jerked like a marionette before going still. His body swung and turned as the winds blew.
“Someone’s going to make the evening news,” Liam whispered.
“All in a day’s work, the second agent to fuck up in as many days. Avian will have his confirmation.” I smiled. There was no way he could stop us without knowing who we were going to go after next. Colemen had given us a list of names that spanned across the country. The next person was going to be taken care of by Coraline and Declan in Chicago.
Walking to the car, Liam opened the door for me and we both took a seat. We drove across the bridge and the police left without another word. I waited until we were a few miles from the bridge before I turned to him.
“Do you trust them?”
“Not even the slightest.” He smirked and slowed down as the cop in front of us sped forward.
I sighed. “Neither do I.”
Taking out the burner phone, I dialed, and as people began to honk at us, the police car went up in flames.
“None of them are in any rush now,” Liam muttered as he looked into the rearview mirror. A few who stepped out were rapidly speaking on their cell phones.
“Well, I am, let’s go home.”
“We have dinner reservations,” he replied as he pulled off his fake nose and edged the car forward.
I turned so fast that my head snapped. “You’re joking,” I glared at him.
“You agreed.”
“Now is hardly the time.”
“Is there any better time?”
Crossing my arms, I leaned back and refused to speak to him. It felt kind of childish, but I didn’t care. Liam, much to my annoyance, placed his hand on my thigh, forcing me to look back at him.
“I enjoy going on the dates with you, Mel. They make me feel like we met normally and I swept you off your feet.”
“Swept me off my feet? Is there a reason why I can’t walk?” I asked him smiling.
He rolled his eyes. “I’ve never met a woman so opposed to romance in my whole life.” He shook his head, and looked out the windshield.
“You have to admit, I’m getting better. One day I may even ask for flowers.” The moment I said it I laughed, causing him to frown. This time I placed my hand on his thigh. “Liam, my definition of romance isn’t chocolate, flowers and dates…but if you’re dying to get me to some restaurant, fine. Go crazy.”
He snickered. “Oh I have, baby, I have. You might want to take that wig off.”
I eyed him carefully before I took off my wig and pulled the pins out of my hair.
“What are you planning, Callahan?”
He said nothing, as we pulled up to a designer boutique and an older man came to the door, and held it open for me.
“Welcome to the Louvre, Mrs. Callahan,” the man said to me, as he helped me out of the car.
I remained silent as Liam exited the car and came around to meet me. One of the valets made a move to park the car, however Monte, who I had not seen until that moment, came around and stepped into the driver’s seat.
Liam led me into a store filled with luxury dresses, marble white floors, and antique furniture. Three women, dressed in black, stood waiting. One of them had a make-up belt and a curling iron.
“A make over? If you had told me, I would have gotten dress—”
“Ladies, do not pay any mind to her. She’s in your hands.”
Liam ignored me before he excused himself and stepped into another room, which was presumably the men’s section of the boutique.
