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“You’re telling me some lowlife mechanic called the MPD and tipped them?”
The dots weren’t connecting. There was no way Miles Moretti could have known about the hit before it happened.
“Miles Moretti was recently released. Some witnesses caught him working at the garage and I asked Bazoli to dig into his transactions. He purchased a burner phone with his credit card—rookie move—and it’s the same number that was used to call the MPD.” Donovan clicked his tongue. “We all know you drive like you’re in a high-speed chase and your license plate isn’t on your car, so Moretti coming to the conclusion that you killed Armel on his own is negative.”
The wind picked up.
My fist tightened and my skin burned in a way it hadn’t since I was thirteen. Since the last time I took belt lashes to my back that would scar me forever.
“You’re saying someone helped him come to that conclusion.”
It wasn’t a question.
It was a statement.
Donovan nodded. “That’s exactly what I’m saying, Zeno. Someone hired him to make the call.”
I knew it was time to bite the bullet and pay Miles Moretti a visit.
“Do you have a description of him?”
Donovan drained his beer, then shrugged his big arms into his king-sized suit jacket. “Blond hair. Brown eyes. Gaunt-looking with jail rat tattoos.” He shot the beer bottle into the dumpster next to us. “His address is on the piece of paper. I’m assuming you’re taking the day off from the office?”
I kicked off the wall, adjusting my cufflinks. “Absolutely. It seems I have other important business to deal with.” The kind that involved testing out my new knife against Miles Moretti’s face. “I owe you, Don.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll cash in soon.” He patted my back. “Call me if you need anything, yeah?”
“Got a question for you,” I said with a smirk. “Want to be my best man?”
Donovan cracked a rare smile. “Will you get down on your knees and ask me like you did Darla?”
Clearly, I was never living that down. I thumped his shoulder as I walked away. “I’ll take that as ayes.”
My best friend simply chuckled.
I plugged the address Donovan provided into my GPS. Miles Moretti lived in the projects of South Side, Montardor.
Before driving, I texted Benjamin that I wouldn’t be coming to work.
Something came up. I won’t be at the office today. Can you handle the 11 a.m. touchpoint with the operations team by yourself? —Zed
Sure. What came up? —Ben
Hot date. —Zed.
Skipping the entire day for Darla? Looks like she’s already got you wrapped around her fingers . —Ben.
You’re annoying. —Zed
<3. —Ben
I wished I could skip the entire day and spend it on my knees with my face buried in Darla’s irresistible pussy. I missed her taste and her soft moans as I devoured her. It was now my favourite sound in the entire world.
She hadn’t spoken to me since our engagement party four days ago. Not even athank youfor the green Lamborghini. I would be offended if I were a lesser man, except I was merely curious as to why she was avoiding me.
Darla should know the chase only got me hot.
It made me want to pin down that delectable body and fuck it until her hoarse cries were ringing in my ears and her warm cunt had made a sloppy mess between us.
