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“Yeah.”
“If you need anything…” I muttered next to him.
“Appreciate it.” Trigger ran a hand through his Mohawk then walked over to his bike and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two collapsible cups. “Let’s toast this fucker to the grave.”
Once we all sat around the fire and were a couple drinks in, the earlier tension faded, and Trigger relaxed again. Tess began to share stories about their parties in the desert. She had Sienna in stitches over her escapades with her friend Minnie.
“Who knew you could wax your vajayjay to the floor?” Tess tossed her hand in the air; this kind of conversation seemed the norm for her. “But sure as shit, she did, and of course all the staff had to witness it, so we just held a,” she held up her fingers and did air quotes, “vag-viewing party while Minnie sipped a glass of champagne. Everything was funny up until we had to peel the wax off the…”
I tuned her out with a shudder. I didn’t need the visual.
I noticed Sienna had only had a few sips of her drink and seemed tired. Maybe Mariano’s murder took a toll on her. I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she nuzzled in with a happy sigh. I waited for Tess to finish her story before I spoke.
“Would you like to leave?” I looked at Sienna.
“No, this is fun. I’m just a little worn out from everything that’s been going on.”
“So,” Tess pulled our attention over to her, “when is the wedding?”
“At the end of the tour,” I announced. Sienna and I had decided it was the perfect way to end the tour and start our reign as one.
“Well, that’s fucking romantic.” She smiled at Trigger. “Will it be a big wedding or small?”
“What mafia wedding is ever small?” Trigger chuckled. “Andshesure as shit won’t be wearing a black wedding dress.”
“You wore a black dress?” Sienna’s head popped up as Tess nodded. “Do you have pictures?”
“Yeah.” Tess pulled out her phone, and the girls gushed over her wedding. “We’re anything but traditional.” She laughed at that, and Sienna joined her.
The night went on, and the girls seemed to hit it off, but when Sienna could barely keep her eyes open, I knew it was time to pack it up. I helped her to the car while Trigger and I cleaned up and disposed of what was left of Mariano in a pit. While Tess was putting on her helmet and about to mount her bike, Trigger put his hand on my arm.
“Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For all of it, and for this.” He nodded around.
“You’re always welcome, Trigger, and Tess seems great.”
“She’s my fucking other half.” He smirked around his joint.
“Glad you found her.”
“Look,” he squinted when the smoke blew back in his face, “I’m going to send you a name and photo. If you’d circulate it through your men and just keep your eyes open, that’d be great.”
“Sure.” I turned to leave when he called me back.
“One more thing. Does the name Agent Collins mean anything to you?” I laughed and rolled my eyes. Oh, I knew Copper Collins.
“Yeah, why?”
“He’s not FBI, is he?”
“He was,” I raised my eyebrows, “until he took over the family business.” I held up my family ring to indicate Collins was an American mobster still working as an FBI agent. It was actually quite brilliant. Risky, but brilliant.
“Fuck.”
“Why?”
