Page 48 of Den of Vipers


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Satisfied we’re following, she starts up the stairs. We trail behind her, my eyes locked on her peachy ass as she takes the steps two at a time. She seems to know where she’s going, and when we get to the next story, she heads to the left through another door and into the warehouse.

The room is massive, and the guys split up to check it out for anyone else or hiding spots. I stand there and wait as she heads right to the sofas in the middle of the room and flops down, her legs stretched out over one. They are old and red, but she seems comfy enough.

Next to her is an impressive setup—four computer monitors all turned inward with a huge chair, which is no doubt meant for Tiny. In the back corner under the windows is a bed on the floor and a wardrobe. To the right is an armoury with guns, knives, and even a fucking rocket launcher. She wasn’t kidding when she said she knew people.

Tiny steps past me and smacks her legs down as he throws himself into his chair. She sticks her tongue out at him and puts them back up. “So what’s up, shit face? Heard you disappeared, family emergency?” he mocks.

She rolls her eyes. “I told them no one would believe that.” I bristle, thinking we’re going to have to kill this man, but she carries on regardless. “Just taking some time away from the bar, lying low.”

“You in trouble?” he asks, leaning forward.

“Bitch, when ain’t I?” She laughs. “Nothing I can’t handle, but I do need a favour.”

He sighs. “Of course you do.”

“Fucker, you still owe me from last time, when we woke up on that barge. Don’t whine now when you gotta pay up.”

Just how close are these two? I narrow my eyes at her and head her way, perching on the arm of her sofa as the others complete their circuit of the room. Tiny keeps his eyes on them, and on the computer screens, I spot a CCTV section open to show the whole warehouse.

“Fine, what the fuck do you want?” he snaps.

She seems undisturbed by his rudeness, picking her nails with her new knife as she lounges. Why can’t she be this comfortable with us? I want to smash his face in before I remember we need him. She said to let her do the talking, but I interrupt anyway. “I need to track someone who bought papers from you.”

His face locks down as he swings his massive head and glares at Roxxane. “Girl, who the fuck are these guys? You been telling them shit about me?”

He reaches under his desk, so I grab my gun and lay it across my lap casually as a warning. His eyes narrow, but he stops reaching for the weapon. “The fuck you want, man?”

Roxxane sighs and sits up. “Put your fucking gun away,” she snaps at me, and looks to Tiny. “A favour, like I said.”

“What’s it worth?”

“Free drinks for a year, on the house,” she offers, and the room goes silent.

“Make it two and you got a deal.” He extends his hand, and she shakes it. “Next time, don’t fucking bring the assholes, stupid bitch.”

He looks over my shoulder, and I follow his gaze to Diesel, who’s playing with grenades in his armoury. “Don’t touch my shit.”

Diesel smirks and backs away, but I see him pocket a grenade, great. Turning back to Tiny, I watch him spin to face his computer. “Who are they anyway? Some sort of male harem that follows you around?”

“Exactly,” Diesel calls, before flinging himself down next to Roxxane and grinning. “Her harem.”

“Brave man,” Tiny mutters. “Okay, who are we looking for?”

“Brave how?” Diesel grins.

“Well, last month I saw her almost cut someone’s dick off with a piece of a broken glass bottle he threw at her when she broke his heart. I’m just saying, you’re brave bastards.” Tiny laughs.

I look at her, raise my eyebrow, and she just shrugs. “He was rude, plus that was one time…okay, maybe more than once, but honestly, people with dicks always think they know best and can act like they own you. I remind them that vaginas are stronger than dicks, as ours are inside and yours hang out…ready to be chopped off.”

I cross my legs and wince for the man, even as Diesel laughs hysterically. “Feel free to cut mine off, Little Bird.”

Tiny turns, looking at Roxxane. “That one ain’t right in the head.”

“Tell me about it.” She nods, leaning forward as Diesel starts to play with her hair. “Okay, guy would have been overseas, what else?”

She looks to me then, and I clear my throat. “Male, under forty, black hair. A hitter, would have needed ways to get arms as well, namely a sniper rifle. He would have been in the life.” I know he knows what I mean when his face clouds. “Not a local one, one you’ve never seen, expensive.”

He whistles. “Better make it three years if I’m crossing that bastard.”

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