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“Who?” I ask in an icy voice.
“The mob man, that’s who. I run this trail every day, but usually in the afternoon. One day, this ugly dude approached me and offered me a job to track you guys. Asked me to report everything I heard or saw back to him,” he rambles quickly.
“I told him I wasn’t interested, but he pulled a gun on me. He told me to take the money and do the job, or else he’d put a bullet in me.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose before addressing him. “Was his name Paolo?”
The guy nods. Josephine hisses. Pretty Paolo—the ugliest fucker on Bianchi’s payroll.
“When were you approached, and how long has this been going on for?” I demand.
The guy is singing like a tweaked-out canary. “Like six, seven weeks ago. The assignment was to be on the trail every morning by five and run at a safe distance behind you.”
Josephine’s hands fly to her head, her embarrassment flushing her oval face. “Oh, God! How many times have you watched us?”
The guy squeezes his eyes close, ready for another blow from my fist. “Enough to know it’s always at this boulder,” he admits.
I haul the kid to his feet. “You’re lucky my woman is here to stop me from beating your sorry ass.” Holding onto the perv by his shirt, I yank my phone out of my athletic shorts and call Gauge.
“You better have a damn good reason for calling me this early, Atlas.”
“Caught one of Bianchi’s spies on the trail. Come pick this piece of shit up.” I give him our location and end the call.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Gauge and Punk come with my SUV and throw the fucker in the trunk. I help Jo in the back seat before climbing in next to her with Hades. Gauge turns us back around to the rental.
We pull in the driveway, and Chase is waiting out front of the house with Reaper and Brass, the muscle of our crew. They have no problem knocking a couple of teeth out on fuckers like this sexual deviant if it means we get more information out of him.
Too bad for my bloodthirsty brothers—I’ll be taking the liberty of the job myself.
Reaper opens the trunk of my SUV and Brass yanks the little cocksucker out, dragging his blubbering ass into the garage. Brass throws the guy into a chair, restraining him with his heavy hands weighing on the pervert’s shoulders. Hades sits directly in front of the peeper, snarling.
Josephine looks troubled with her arms folded over her chest. I’m surprised she wants to be anywhere near the guy.
Punk stands next to her and sneers at the spy. “What the fucker do, Atlas? Did he do something to Jo?”
A growl builds in my chest. “If you count spying on my woman while I pleasure her as something, yeah, he did.”
Punk’s nostrils flare. “You were creeping on my sis?!”
Chase shakes his head angrily. Gauge comes to stand by my side, laying his hand on my shoulder to calm me down—always my anchor when I’m ready to lose my shit.
Reaper snorts. “Is that why you two go run every morning? Damn, maybe I need to start running if it means I can get pussy.”
Punk gives Reaper a death glare. “Not the time to joke, Reaper!”
Reaper looks around at everyone, completely clueless about the tension in the room. “What? Too soon?”
“Reap! Shut it,” Brass warns his best friend.
Gauge brings us back to point. “Fill us in on how this connects with Bianchi, Atlas.”
I give them a rundown on what happened. All my brothers hiss.
“I’m not a pervert,” the kid pipes in. “I didn’t have a choice. If it makes you feel any better, I have no interest in your woman. I like someone else, okay?”
“And I’m sure this girlfriend of yours would be delighted to hear about your morning activities,” I chide.
