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His mouth forms a thin line. “Let’s just remember who’s supplying who here. I don’t appreciate your tone.”
I work my jaw while silently waiting for him to get on with it. If I speak, I’ll say something I can’t take back, and at this point, I can’t afford to fuck this up.
Torres motions for his men to open their truck. To me, he says, “We have everything King requested.”
That’s the best piece of news I’ve heard all fucking day. The last time Torres and I spoke, he informed me he may not be able to meet our request. He gave me some bullshit story about not being sure what the cartel had shipped. I’d come here expecting to piss him off with a demand to get the rest of our coke to us fast. I didn’t believe for a second that he had no knowledge of what the cartel had shipped, and I was willing to call him on it. Now we might have half a chance of building a relationship.
Ransom and I inspect the delivery. When we’re both happy with it, I nod for Hunt to pay Torres.
“The next shipment will arrive in eight weeks,” Torres says as my men load the coke into the truck. “The price will go up to the original price at that time.”
“Like fuck it will,” I say, squaring my shoulders and preparing for battle. I knew this motherfucker would screw with us today. “That was never the deal.”
“The only deal we had was the one for today.”
“That’s bullshit, Torres, and you know it.”
He removes his glasses, his eyes cold as ice like usual. “I’d be very careful about what you say to me. I can’t imagine King being happy if you lose this deal for him.”
I step closer, my entire body vibrating with the anger filling me. “And I’d be very careful that you don’t piss the wrong people off by fucking them over. Your cartel might have power in your country, but my club has power in this one.”
The vein in his temple pulses. I’ve pissed him off, that much is for sure by his body language. “You do not want to go down this path, Winter.”
“I’m very aware of the path I want to go down, Javier, and it is this one. I want confirmation the price stays the same by the end of today, and if I don’t get it, be prepared to feel the ramifications of fucking with Storm.”
I slide my sunglasses back on and motion to my men that we’re leaving. One more minute in Torres’s company and I may just give in to my desire to inflict pain on him. Not a productive use of my time today.
When we’re in the truck on the way to our storage facility, Ransom says, “Axe texted. He’ll be at the clubhouse in an hour to go over last night.”
“You saw Memphis this morning?”
“Yeah. He’s doing better today. Doc thinks he’s out of the woods now.”
It’s been three days since he was shot. And although we don’t have confirmation yet, I know deep in my gut that whoever shot him and Thorn, killed Johnson, another club member, last night.
We drive the rest of the way in silence, each lost in our thoughts. Once we arrive at the warehouse, we quickly unload the coke and leave Striker on watch duty before returning to the clubhouse.
I’ve just reached my office when Birdie calls.
“You good?” I ask as I drop down into my chair.
“Yes.” She hesitates for a moment. “I heard from the embryologist.”
I frown at what I hear in her voice. “What’s wrong?” She sounds off. Uncertain about something.
“Nothing’s wrong. Nine of the eggs fertilised overnight.”
“Fuck, that’s good.”
“Yes.” I can still hear her hesitating with me.
“Birdie, what’s wrong?” I left home early this morning, which didn’t give me much time with her. I made sure she was feeling okay, but I don’t know where her head is at today.
“Nothing. I’m good with this news.”
“Is something else bothering you?”
“No. Umm…. No. I’m good. I’ll let you go.” Axe appears at my door, drawing my attention long enough for Birdie to say, “Just text me when you’re leaving tonight so I can get dinner finished.” She hangs up on me before I can stop her.
