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“Yeah,” Mack grins. He’s not a smiler, honestly, so this obviously amuses him.
While the three of us never served directly with him, when Mack joined the Dark Kings team, he fit right in immediately. He’s been our primary contact for the last six years. The person on the end of the phone when Nate and I felt like we were losing our goddamn minds.
That type of thing builds a bond between two men that’s hard to explain.
Like a lifeline of sorts.
“He is, but I get that he didn’t want to leave Mia after she was shot and has lost her family. Even if they are criminals,” Mack adds, dropping the rare smile.
“I dropped Sienna off to stay, so the girls will keep him busy,” Nate smirks. “But when we get back, I’m going to honor my promise to work behind a desk.”
I glance at him in the rearview mirror and lift a brow.
“Yeah, I know. It’s going to take some adjustment. You can’t tell me, after six years with these assholes, you don’t want to lie on a beach with a pina colada,” Nate challenges.
He’s not wrong.
Although I’ve had enough sunshine. Maybe the Swiss Alps and a set of skis might be more my thing after living years in Mexico.
The two of them update me on what happened after the shooting. How the entire Mancini family is wiped out. Every last one of them. Well, except Mia, but she’s a Barrett now.
Isabelle’s family are out of their minds worried about where she is and have been on the news with the police asking for any information.
Money talks. Most people rarely get that kind of airtime for their missing loved ones. This is how I learn Isabelle comes from a wealthy family.
They don’t know she’s in Mexico, and Mia says she’s had a call from Isabelle’s father accusing her family of taking his daughter. At which point, Connor ripped the phone out of her hand and said some choice words.
Namely,they’re all dead, you prick.
He has refused to let the police interview Mia, and it's only his power and influence that have kept them away.
So, no one knows where Isabelle is. Including me right fucking now. However Connor knows as well as I do that we are Isabelle’s best chance of getting home alive.
Well, except for the bit where I fucking lost her.
“So, this Todd guy,” I say in my most convincing, flippant voice. I think.
Mack slowly turns his head to face me while I drive. “Izzy’s fiancé?”
I lift a shoulder. “Yeah. We didn’t know much about him, right?” I’ve been wracking my brain. I wasn’t as up-to-date as Nate, Connor, and Mack on the more minor details of the Mancini world. We’d identified Sienna, Isabelle, and Duncan as Mia’s friends, but they were typical civilians and of no interest.
They checked out, so I paid no attention. Especially as the Mexican Cartel was my primary focus.
“Vaguely. He’s a trust fund kid with a silver spoon up his ass,” Nate said, chugging back a bottle of water. “No one of interest then and now.”
I want to smile.
Only because I picture a guy who wears plaid, has slicked-back hair and plays squash twice a week. I’m building an entire profile for the guy in my head.
He fucks missionary style and doesn’t lick pussy seeing as he thinks it's unhygienic. They sit at opposite ends of a long table to dine and rarely speak to each other, except to compliment the well-cooked beef.
He’s controlling, insecure, and anal about creases in his clothes. But he’d never fuck anal because that would be too crude.
Jesus.
They say chicks love fiction. I could write a goddamn book about this asshole.
“He on the TV with her parents?” I ask.
