Page 30 of Gangsters and Guns


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“Number?” Maddox barks.

She flinches at his harsh tone. “I don’t have a phone,” she admits.

“Who the fuck doesn’t have a phone?” he snarls and storms away as she glares after him. A moment later, there’s rustling and banging before he throws a phone down next to her on the sofa. “Don’t sell it or lose it. Our numbers are already programmed,” he informs her gutturally.

Rogan glares at Maddox, then looks back at Rory. “I’ll text you the address.”

“If you get lost, just call me, Ms. O’Brien.” I wink. “I’m happy to help you get off, I mean there.”

She purses her lips, and I see her wanting to refuse the phone, but she accepts it and stands. “Thank you, you won’t regret this,” she says politely, when I really think she wants to tell us to fuck off.

“Oh, but you will,” I whisper as I watch her. Rogan escorts her out and glances at us with raised eyebrows. I pour another drink and toss it back. “Game on.”

Poor Ms. O’Brien. She just walked into a gangster’s den and doesn’t even realize it.

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