Page 54 of Business vs. Pleasure

“Yes, we are. We’re⁠—”

“Do you want all the little cuts glued? Or do you want to bleed all over your clothes?”

That irritated huff was more satisfying than it should have been. As was the way August dropped onto the edge of the bed again with an indignant “fuck you.”

Ricardo just chuckled and got out the glue. The little moments of irreverence weren’t helping them make a plan, but they did keep him from doom-spiraling. And they reminded him that his husband was here, alive, and well.

And he’d better fucking stay that way.

By the time August was sewn and glued back together and their dinner had arrived from a local burger joint, they were no closer to a plan.

August did, however, have one good idea: “Maybe we should get on the phone with Heidi.”

Three heads were better than two, and she had her finger on a lot of pulses they didn’t, so Ricardo gave her a call. Once they had her on speakerphone, they explained the situation.

“Well, that sounds like a mess,” she said dryly.

“You don’t say,” Ricardo said. “We’re just not sure what we should do next.”

“Besides kill NightPigeon,” August muttered.

“That would be a good start.” Heidi paused. “Maybe what we need to do is contract him.”

August and Ricardo exchanged glances.

“Go on,” Ricardo said.

“You’re not going to like this, Ricardo,” she warned. “But I don’t have any better ideas.”

He scowled, then repeated, “Go on.”

She took a deep breath. “I think he wants the Darrow hit. He’s trying to screw you two over and tank your ratings, and what better way to do that than take the hit you guys failed to complete?”

August wrinkled his nose in disgust. Ricardo concurred.

“So, what?” August asked. “Just… let him take that contract? How would we even do that?”

“I know people,” she said without elaborating. “I can make sure he gets that job. But there’s a chance he’ll complete it.”

“Like hell,” Ricardo growled.

“It’s reality,” she said. “And he’s probably ten steps ahead of you in tracking down Darrow, so when he does get the hit…”

“Fucker,” August grumbled.

“We need to get close to Darrow.” Ricardo drummed his nails on the table between his phone and the remnants of his dinner. “If NightRaven takes him out, we need to be there to take him out.”

“It might take some time to find him,” August said. “Always does, especially if someone is already paranoid. Who knows if we have that time, though?”

“Then I’d suggest you start hunting for him now,” Heidi said. “Because someone’s already assigned the hit to NightChicken.”

Ricardo allowed himself a little snort at the new epithet. Then, “Shit. Are you sure?”

“I’m looking at it right now.”

August and Ricardo both swore.

“Go get ‘im, boys,” she said.