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Fucking hell, this is seriously fucked.
“You ready?” Logan asks.
Glancing around, I clear my throat. “One of those POS outside the transport?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he grunts.
“I’m ready,” I lie.
I’m not ready. Not for this shit. I don’t want anything to do with Dead Phoenix or their group. I’m tired of running dope. And all I want to do is stay close to home and protect my woman from this man I’ve never seen before and don’t even know half of the shit he’s done to her or put her through.
Basically, I need to fucking be at home.
But instead, I’m here, doing this absolute garbage for Logan. There is a noise at the back of the house, and I watch as Duke walks down the hallway toward me. He’s got a frown on his face and his brows are snapped together.
The look he’s wearing is not good at all.
“You sure this is gonna be cool?” Duke asks. Keeping my gaze on him, I press my lips together in a thin line as I wait for him to speak.
“Our goal is to catch the big fish. We need to know who is buying them. The only way to get there is if you guys personally deliver the packages.”
I have a feeling these packages are not going to be drugs, and that shit makes me sick as fuck.
“Diaz isn’t going to let that happen. Raul never did.”
Logan chuckles. “After the stunt he pulled with me, he obviously doesn’t really know what the fuck is happening. He’s trying to make a name for himself, but it’s clear he doesn’t understand the ins and outs of this world.”
I watch as Logan walks down the hallway, taking the same path Duke just came from. Then, within seconds, he’s pushing three girls toward us. My muscles stiffen, my spine straightens, and I realize that this is not exactly what I thought I was agreeing to.
“I thought we’d be transporting dope?” I ask, knowing it’s a stupid fucking question. I knew it wouldn’t be that simple, that he was going to throw some shit at us.
Fucking hell.
“You were transporting dope before I got word from Diaz that he wants this type of cargo instead of dope from me. I’m pretending to appease him.”
Shaking my head once, I clear my throat and take half a step toward him. The three women cower as I approach. I fucking hate this shit. This is not what my club is about. Even before we went legit, skin trade was not something we ever did.
“You talk to Legacy about this?” I ask.
Logan shrugs a shoulder, his gaze flicking to Duke before he slides it back to meet mine. “You’re working for me to get these assholes put away for an eternity so I can be done with this fucking gig and get on with my life. I don’t have to talk to anyone.”
I want to tell him to fuck himself. He’s the one who almost got killed by allowing himself to be taken by those idiots. The only reason I agreed to any of this was for Reese. Now that I’ve got her, and she’s safe, I want to tell him to fuck right off.
Unfortunately, I’m a man of my word, but this might be pushing that a bit too goddamn far. “What do we do?” I grind out.
“Take them to Diaz, drop them off, and accept the payment. It’s exactly like transporting dope.”
Except it’s fucking humans.
Duke moves toward the women. He’s a practiced hand at this, yet the only thing I want to do is set them free. Taking a step back, I watch as Duke guides them toward the front door and outside. I watch them disappear through the doorway for a moment, then shift my attention to Logan.
“This was dirty as fuck and not appreciated,” I grind out.
“Noted,” he snorts. “How’s my sister?”
“Thought you didn’t give a fuck.”
He shrugs a shoulder, his eyes finding mine, and I tilt my head to the side to wait for his response. I’ve known he was Reese’s brother for months, something she’d mentioned to me, not him. I don’t think he’s as heartless as he’s trying to come off. He still wants her to be safe and protected.
