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“Help?” I would laugh if he wasn’t deadly serious.
Dax glances at me. “With whatexactly?”
“Someone wronged me a long time ago. Hurt someone I cared about—”
“Ah, so you wantusto put a hit on this person, is that it?” I grin, how the mighty fall. Perhaps there’s more to this arsehole than meets the eye. Let’s face it, we’ve all got a dark stain on our souls. Some are just better at hiding it. This fucker wants to knock someone off without staining his own hands with blood. Figures.
Hudson shakes his head. “No. I want revenge. I want his businesses dissolved. I want his fucking life destroyed and then when he’s lost everything, I want him to rot in jail.”
“And why the fuck would we help you to do that?” I ask.
Hudson stares at me, his finger tapping against the tabletop. “Because you and I have the same goal.”
“Is that so? What goal is that?”
“To be free from what haunts us,” Hudson replies, deadly fucking serious as he looks between me and Dax. It makes me wonder what the fuck else he knows. Is he aware of the significance of today? It’s two years to the day when Pen walked away from us and it still hurts like a bitch. I shake my head. There’s no way. No one but us Breakers know what eats away at us every second of every fucking day since she left.
“Get the fuck out of here.” I tip my head back and laugh. A deep belly laugh that normally proceeds me losing my shit. I’m feeling particularly unhinged today. “Are you fucking hearing this shit, Dax?”
“Listen, Hudson. You’re talking in riddles. We ain’t got time for no bullshit,” Dax says hurriedly, intervening before my trigger finger gets happy. “I’m here because Eastern is an old friend. Xeno’s here because he’s my brother, but we ain’t no fools and we ain’t got time to dance around the truth. Tell us what you want, or we’re gone.”
“I want you to help me take down Santiago Garcia,” Hudson says, calm as a fucking cucumber.
“You fuckingwhat?” I hiss.Fuck me.This is not what I expected. Not the fuck at all. The colour drains from Dax’s skin whilst red hot anger bleeds into mine.
“I said, I want you to help me take down Santiago Garcia.”
“Why thefuckwould we do that? He’s our boss’s, boss. The main man. You know that, right…?” I hiss, reaching for my gun. My fingers press against the cool metal. Looks like I’m gonna be putting a bullet in this fucker’s brain after all.
“I know that,” Hudson responds tightly.
“Yeah, of course you fucking do. Then you’ll also know you ain’t got a hope in hell in taking that man down.” I drag my gaze away from Hudson and glare at Dax. Over the years Dax and I have fought, but I swear to fuck I’ve never wanted to beat him unconscious until now. We are not getting mixed up in this. “What the fuck, Dax?”
Dax holds his hands up. “I swear, this wasn’t what I was expecting either.”
I take a deep breath, then lean forward, my forearms resting on the table as I concentrate on the clueless motherfucker in front of me once more. He might be some hotshot businessman, but he doesn’t know shit about the circles we walk in or how fucking dangerous that man is. If Jeb is a shark in the food chain, that motherfucker Santiago is a killer fucking whale and you do not take a punt at the biggest predator in the sea if you want to stay alive.
“Let me get this straight. You want us to help you take out Santiago Garcia? The same Santiago Garcia who supplies London, the whole fucking UK, with cocaine and heroin. The Cuban crime lord of the fucking century and the Skins’realfucking boss?”
“Precisely.”
“You’re fucking insane.” Internally, I’m cursing Eastern. The little prick. What the fuck washethinking dragging us into this? “There’s no way you’ll be able to pull this off.”
“I can with your help,” he insists, leaning forward on his elbows.
“No. It’s a suicide mission. Why the fuck would we sign our own death certificates for you? Because that’s what we’d be doing.” I point out.
“Because we wouldn’t just be taking out Santiago, we’d be taking out Jeb too. I have the money to fund whatever you need to get this done. I have the contacts. I know people who can help. We can do this.”
“No.” I shake my head, and move to stand, but Dax rests his hand on my arm. I recognise that look in his eyes and I don’t fucking like it one little bit.
“What’s in it for us?” Dax asks after a beat, and I swear I almost swallow my fucking tongue. He can’t seriously be considering this. No one fucks with Santiago Garcia. No. Fucking. One.
“You help me take him down and I can promise that you get immunity from the law. You get enough money to do whatever the hell you want, but more than that you get what you desire the most.”
“And what the fuck is that?” I snap.
“To be out from underneath Jeb, to befreeof the Skins. You get the life you should’ve had. All four of you,” Hudson says vehemently.
