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“It’s our friend,” Ink said quietly.
“Friend? Hmm, are we friends? I don’t know. How is Betsy? Have you given her that ring yet?”
“Fuck, Fox, how did you know about that?” Ink griped.
“I know everything.”
“What are you doing sneaking up on us?” Steele grumbled, searching the shadows for the assassin. But he couldn’t see him. “I could have shot you.”
“Doubtful,” the Fox commented. “You know, I thought you’d be in a better mood now that you’ve got a girl of your own. Or are you still waiting for Grady to suck your sav?”
“Motherfucker!” How did he know that?
“Calm, this is what he does,” Ink said.
“I’ve watched the two of you, any idiot could see he was into you. Except you. Which makes you even more of an idiot.”
Fucking hell.
“Fox, why are you riling him up?” Ink asked.
“Just wanted to see if he and Grady have moved things along. Maybe I should give you some relationship tips, Steele.”
Great. That was just what he needed.
Relationship tips from an assassin.
“Fox,” Ink said. “We need to go. I want to get to the twins and Betsy.”
“Those twins . . . they’re going to rule the world one day. I can’t wait. It was a professional hit, but not a professional doing it.”
“What?” Steele said. He was tired, angry, and wanted to make sure that his baby was all right. He wasn’t in the mood for a riddle.
“As soon as you texted me, I made a few inquiries about who might have taken a job in Billings. My town. Turns out, the professional hitman who was hired to kill your girl farmed the job out. And to an idiot. Which makes him a fucking idiot.”
“A professional hitman gave the job to someone else?” Ink asked.
“Yes, he double-booked himself. Apparently, he had a wedding that his girlfriend was demanding he attend. I made it clear that I didn’t appreciate him taking a job in my territory. He said he thought I was retired.”
“Aren’t you?” Ink asked.
“That doesn’t mean I will allow anyone else to take jobs in my town.”
“Did he tell you who he gave the job to?” Steele asked.
“Of course he did. I told him it wasn’t good business practice to farm a job out. And that he shouldn’t let his girlfriend dictate to him. He didn’t appreciate that. Although now he owes me a favor since he fucked up. He’s not happy that the shooter did such a poor job. I told him we were taking care of the kidnapper, who he knew nothing about, and he assured me he’d deal with the shooter.”
“He’s upset that the shooter did such a poor job?” Steele repeated incredulously.
“Am I talking in a foreign language? I know several. Australian is my favorite.”
“Australians speak English,” Steele told him.
“Do they?”
“Don’t fall down the rabbit hole,” Ink told him.
“Hey!” the Fox snapped. “It’s a fox hole.”
