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I rolled my eyes. “He’s trying to find me stuff on the man that pulled Banger over today. Something that’s going to be obvious to everyone who has access to a computer and internet.”
Donnelly leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers behind his head as he stretched out.
His shirt lifted slightly, and I saw the butt of a gun peeking out from where he concealed carried at his appendix.
“What did I tell you about that shit?” I grumbled.
He grinned. “You’re just mad that I carry a pink gun.”
“I’m not mad that you’re carrying a pink gun. I’m mad that you’re carrying it when you know that I fuckin’ wanted it.”
We’d both literally gone into the gun store together, and when I’d expressed interest in the gun he was currently carrying, he walked off, only to come back ten minutes later with the receipt for the motherfucker.
And it wasn’t a gift.
It was his, which he flaunted every single time he could get a chance.
“Anyway,” I said, “I think we need a test. And this is going to be it. If he can’t find this information out for me, he’s out. And then we need to make sure that he knows that by being out, it means he can’t talk about what we do here.”
Nobody could ever know what we did here.
Not only was what we did highly illegal, but it was also something that I was passionate about. Something that was a big deal to me.
If Ashton ruined it because he had ‘morals’ then I’d be fuckin’ livid.
“I’ll take care of it,” Donnelly said. “But you need to look into hiring a few more guys. We have too many fuckin’ contracts right now to be losing him without someone to replace him.”
I agreed wholeheartedly, then leaned back in my own chair.
My eyes closed as I thought about what had happened only an hour before with Banger.
“What’s that look on your face for?” Donnelly asked.
My eyes flickered open to see Donnelly’s ‘work’ face on.
His work face being a face that was honestly kind of scary if you didn’t trust him with your life like I did.
“You should check out the video I sent to your email,” I said.
Donnelly didn’t waste time doing that.
His fingers, which were big and bulky, flew across the keyboard with surprising nimbleness.
Once he was in his email, I knew the moment he saw what had happened.
He stiffened and stared long and hard at the screen, then flicked his eyes up to me as if judging whether I was stable or not.
I wasn’t.
“No wonder you’re giving Ashton his last chance,” he grumbled as he started to type away at the computer. “You should get Hank on this.”
Henry ‘Hank’ Township, our resident security guru, who just so happened to know anyone and everyone, was usually my go-to person for any and all information that I wanted right then and there.
He just had ways of getting information that I didn’t.
He had the ins in just about every police station in the southern part of the United States.
Sadly, he was out of town right now on a family matter.
Though, I was capitalizing on him being gone.
He was killing two birds with one stone down in his home state of Florida.
“I don’t want to mess with him right now,” I admitted. “He’s doing what he needs to do with his brother and their MC, and I don’t want to pull him away from what’s important to him.”
“You know he won’t have any problem in the world with helping you with this,” Donnelly tried.
I knew he wouldn’t.
But…
“His brother is dying of cancer, and he’s trying to decide whether to move down there to take over the MC,” I acknowledged. “I’m trying really hard to let him make that decision on his own, without trying to persuade him to stay down there and help me open up another branch.”
I’d thought for a while that I needed to have multiple office points around the country.
Too many times, our job took us into areas that we didn’t have safe houses in, and I’d thought long and hard about where/when I wanted these new field houses/safe areas to be.
And what better place than a tiny little Florida town on the coast that was protected by an MC that one of my most loyal guys was a part of?
Sounded like a win-win to me.
“I’m calling him,” Donnelly murmured.
And before I could disagree with him doing that, Hank was answering the phone with, “God fuckin’ save me from this goddamn MC drama.”
I grinned at Hank’s words.
“Everything okay?” Donnelly asked.
“Just a bunch of MC bullshit that is part of the reason that I went nomad in the first place,” Hank grumbled hard.
My lips were twitching despite the situation.
I’d missed hearing from my friend.
Years ago, when we were all wet behind the ears, we’d all envisioned this company. We’d all put our hearts and souls into forming an idea that would help turn it into a reality.
