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I can see why he was pissed that Momma had ignored his plan, but now that I know the details, I also know why she did. It’s so unlike Tony’s other mission ideas. It’s elaborate with lots of moving pieces. Jordan was simple and likely would’ve worked if not for Amal.
“I don’t get how strippers do this vulnerability thing,” Tony says, looking wildly uncomfortable in his getup—and not for modesty’s sake, the conceited idiot, but wearing a leather jock and sex toys toolbelt to a potential gunfight is scary as hell in theory and terrifying in practice.
“I feel so fucking exposed.” His hands move around, trying to find some place to rest.
Not happening. Not with what he’s wearing: a heavy gold chain around his neck and the leather jock that creates aWof his ass. The front sock part practically carries the imprint of his thingamajigger. Classy.
Not that I looked.Okay,I did, but it’s unavoidable. Still, I have not said a word to him. Not one uncomfortable word.
Victor, currently rocking a black-leather G-string, looks completely comfortable. Although Sandesh has told me Victor had done a lot of undercover roles for the government, I’m still impressed at his calm. He didn’t even hesitate when I told him the plan to rescue Sandesh. He was angry as hell, but, after ten minutes of cursing at me in Spanish, he took a deep breath and told me he was in.
“What are you complaining about?” Gracie asks. “I wish this guy preferred women. At least you’re not being entombed inside a gaudy Mexican Cadillac.”
Entombed. Not a good word choice.
“Mira, gringa,” Victor objects, smoothing a hand over the lime-green Cadillac. “Don’t knock the car. That space is ingenious. Took me forty minutes to find the thing, and that was with instructions on where it was.”
Gracie doesn’t look impressed.
I wouldn’t either if I had to ride stuffed into the secret compartment that makes up the car’s back seat. “Stop complaining, Gracie,” I tell her because I need her to calm the fuck down, “You’re the only one small enough to fit. Sucks to be a shrimp.”
“Easy for you to say,” she bites. “You’ll be stretched out on nearby hill.”
“Yep, because I’m not a shrimp and I’m the best shot. But I do have to hike through the woods all by my lonesome tonight to get into position, which means I’ll be dropped off a few hours before everyone else even arrives. So, count your blessings.”
“Don’t sweat it, Gracie.” Tony swivels his hips. “You don’t have the male sex-appeal part anyways.”
Gracie rolls her eyes. “Trust me, you don’t either.”
“Oh, yes you do, amigo,” Victor says, and winks. “Big time.”
With a grin, Tony flips him the bird. Victor laughs. So far, Victor’s proven a great addition to the team with all kinds of connections, a bone-deep loyalty to Sandesh, and no mercy when it comes to flirting with Tony.
Truth? Their casual banter is getting on my last nerve. “Does everyone know their part?”
A chorus ofyeses andstop askings answers me. I don’t stop.
“Do you know what we do if the guards don’t let our entertainers inside the gates?” Everyone turns to stare at me. “Yes, this isn’t the first time I’ve asked. And, yes, I do understand that Dada has gone to a great deal of trouble to arrange this, but—”
“Look, chill out.” Tony fingers the thick gold chain around his neck. “Walid is on a sex, drugs, and torture bender. His men are poorly trained. This is going to work out for us.”
“There are four of us against dozens,” Gracie says. “Don’t get cocky.”
Victor snorts. “He can’t help himself.”
I barely hear them. My mind is stuck onsex, drugs, and torture bender. My heart gallops in my chest. I need to get Sandesh out of there. I can’t stomach the thought of Walid getting his groove on by torturing him and then moving on to some hardcore, live-sex-show shit.
“Tony.” I swallow the panic. “Promise me you won’t wait to take Walid out. The second you get—
“I know, J. I know.” He pats the air with his hands. “I still think I should use something quicker.” He waves down at the tools on his belt. “Look at this. Ball gag, whip—the tools on this belt would make taking Walid out a hell of a lot faster.”
“It’s too risky and invites retaliation by his guards,” I say, for the tenth time. “Stick with the patch.”
“You mention that before,” Victor says. “What’s the patch?”
Technically, I’m not supposed to tell him, but he’s here and right now a part of my team. “It’s a poison patch sewn within a reinforced, protective tag on Tony’s thong. It works like a nicotine patch.”
Victor’s brows raise. He takes a step away from Tony. “It’s absorbed through the skin?”
