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“You could say that to any charge we come up with,” Adam argues. “It sounds like you want Gabriel dead. I mean why the fuck are we killing Tag if you want what he wants?”
“Look, fucktard,” I growl, “you give me a way to take down these assholes without me making them dead, I’ll listen. So far you haven’t and time is wasting. As to why Tag will die tonight? Tag is the ghetto version of Pocher. He won’t leave loose ends. He will come for all of us, Walker included. Right now, all that matters, is getting the General home, and getting Candace out of here before they’re dead.”
“If killing Tag ends that threat,” Smith says, “why aren’t you suggesting we kill Pocher? I mean fuck, man, you’re a damn assassin. Why not kill them all, Savage?”
I glower. “You really want me to fight you one day, don’t you?”
Smith waves a taco. “Only after tacos?”
My brows dip. “Pocher won’t just die, asshole. A serial killer broke into the man’s house and killed his brother, not him.”
Candace gapes. “He had his brother killed off?”
I shrug. “Who the fuck knows with him. He could have set it up. He’s that shitty. My point,” I look around the room, “is that even if he died, the man would crawl out of his grave, bend you over, and fuck you ten times over without Vaseline. He’s not one man. He’s the Society, and the Society is worldwide, and deeper than dirt. And that, my brothers, is why I called Kane Mendez.”
“Because he’ll kill Pocher?” Adrian asks.
My lips thin. “No, damn it. It’s not that simple. You have to give him a reason to keep those he wants dead, alive. You have to give the Society, not the man, a reason to keep them alive.” I don’t offer more. They don’t understand the magnitude of the Society and I’m not going to freak Candace out by painting that picture now. I walk to the bags to grab a couple of tacos. “I’m going to eat and so is my baby girl over here. Then we’re going to talk through tonight, which will be one of the best nights of my life. A night where I kill Tag, a rat-faced piece of moving shit, and then I take my girl home with me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Savage
Tired of standing and starving while the Walker team sits and eats, I grab the two navy blue chairs framing the fireplace and scoot them into the center of the room. Candace sits. I claim two cups of Starbucks and offer her one. “Starbucks makes everything better, baby,” I say, her words, not mine.
Her eyes warm with the memories that statement stirs of early morning runs, and our stop by Starbucks on the way home. I wink and snatch a bag of tacos for us to share, claiming my spot beside her, before pointing at the team. “Who’s on first? Let’s recap our plans.”
“I’m on Team Tag,” Adam says. “I have three backup men out of the Dallas and Houston Walker offices, who’ll be watching our asses.”
“No,” I say, setting down my coffee and grabbing a taco. “It’s me alone or me with anyone in this room. No one else.”
“Then it’s me and you,” Adam concedes. “We can’t afford to spare anyone else.”
“I’m with Candace,” Adrian states, “and we have three men running back up.”
“Now you have six,” I say, considering Adam just gave up three.
“Right,” Adrian states. “And out of those six, I’ll actually be inside the party as a guest Candace.”
“As will I,” Smith chimes in. “We’ll use the extra three men to covertly escort Gabriel to the airport.”
“And I’ll,” Asher says, “be running tech support for Tag’s takedown and Candace’s protection.”
Candace blinks. “How many men do you have here now?”
“I called and brought in rush reinforcements for tonight,” Asher supplies. “We’re twelve deep.”
The doorbell rings and Candace’s eyes go wide. “Rick?”
“It’s the tuxedo services,” Asher informs her, tapping his computer screen. “I can see your door.”
Her brows dip, and the adorable pucker between her brows that she hates and I love appears. “Tuxedo services?”
“Of course,” I say. “Me, Smith, and Adrian need to look spiffy, baby.”
She gapes. “You? You’re going to be at the party?”
“As a guest of my father who agreed to get me in. No doubt, to please his buddy Tag. It’s the best way for me to take the toddler Tag off guard. He’s easily distracted. He’ll see me there and be certain I’m there to kill Gabriel.”
“Because you will,” she snaps. “The first time you see him touch me, you’ll lose your shit.”
“I said the same damn thing,” Smith snaps. “Listen to your woman, Savage.”
“The first time he touches you?” I challenge. “He better not touch you.”
“That’s not realistic,” she argues, “and the very fact that you just said that is making me worse of nervous wreck than I already am. I won’t be able to hide my discomfort from him knowing you’re waiting to kill him. The instant he tries to touch me, I’ll be afraid you’re going to lose your shit and that endangers you and my father. You are not going to the party. The end.” She stands up and walks to the door to grab thee tuxedos.
