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I shake my head. “Nope. He’s at Petee’s with Mad Max and a few others.” Petee’s is competition for the Jury’s strip club. Isn’t owned by the ‘beards, but they’re frequent fliers. “Hash’s keepin’ an eye on him. He’ll text when they leave.” I glance at my phone. “Says it’s all clear on his end.”
“I don’t trust that prick,” Red grumbles. He’s got good reason not to. As a prospect, he got the shit kicked out of him by the fucker.
I defend Hash anyway. “He might be an asshole, but he’s still a brother. He ain’t going to fuck us around.”
“Let’s go,” Rocky says as he climbs to his feet.
“Stay down,” Coyote hisses. “We have to make sure the place isn’t wired. Didn’t you learn anything from the Harper shitshow?”
The shitshow he’s referring to is when Rocky, Red and I went to get our stolen bikes and cartel money back from the interbred family that stole them. We were in such a hurry that we triggered a silent alarm. Ended up with Jess in the middle of a fire fight and Red with a hole in his belly.
“So how we gonna know?” Rocky snarls with impatience.
“Shut up and give me a minute,” Coyote snaps as he rises to his feet. “I can’t concentrate with all your sniping.”
We settle into silence as Coyote sneaks up on the property, too slow for our liking. “Let’s go,” Red mutters. “If we stay behind him, then we ain’t gonna trigger anything.”
“Good idea,” Rocky replies, already on his feet, Red following.
“Goddamit,” I hiss, hurrying to catch up. “We gotta be careful.”
“You’re gettin’ pussy-whipped too,” Red mutters when I reach him. “Losin’ your backbone. That’s what women do to men.”
I look side-ways at the giant. His hands are empty. “Where the fuck is Dino?”
“Shit,” Red says under his breath as he turns back towards our hiding place. “Forgot the asshole.”
I roll my eyes and wait for him.
When he returns, he’s holding the sack an arms-length away from him. “It’s wet at the bottom and fucking cold.” He shudders. “Accidentally picked it up that way.”
“Grow some balls,” I tell him, but truth be told, I’d be shuddering too. I prefer to work with live bodies. After they’re dead, they’re no fucking fun.
When we catch up to Rocky and Coyote, they’re bickering. “He’s got the place wired, asshole,” Coyote hisses. “You want to kill us all?”
“Just you, fucker,” Rocky snarls. “Christ, we’re gonna be here all fucking night waitin’ while you knit a goddamn sweater.”
Coyote doesn’t respond and we wait in silence as he dismantles a small box, then carefully cuts wires. “You’re breathing too loud,” he says to Rocky.
Rocky’s fist curls.
I grab Rocky’s shoulder. “Cut it out. We need him.”
Coyote sits back on his haunches. “There. We should be good to go through the yard, but the house will be alarmed too, so don’t go in until I say.”
We follow him into the yard, past the greenhouses. I almost trip over a spade and some fertilizer that’s hidden in the bushes.
“I’d bet ten bills that there’s bodies buried under the daisies,” Red says.
No one takes the wager.
Coyote dismantles the house alarm system in two minutes. “This is amateur work. All of it. Crip needs to get a better IT guy.”
“You volunteering?” Rocky says as he barrels past Coyote and inside.
“What bug crawled up his ass?” Coyote grumbles.
“He’s horny,” I tell him.
