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Stone smirks and pulls out his massive rifle from under the back seat. “This will do the job just fine without risking ourselves or the MC.”
“Sounds good,” I say absently and take in the details of the mansion. The infinity pool with a separate hot tub takes up most of the backyard. There’s an outdoor kitchen area and a smallcabana, all dwarfed by the expansive home with floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Don’t look like any public servant’s house I’ve ever seen.”
“Right?” Stone huffs, shaking his head. “This guy was a fucking insurance attorney before getting into local, small-town politics. That money is definitely dirty.”
“No wonder the Iron Reapers want him dead.” Sounds like every other politician on the planet, doing dirt himself while trying to fuck up someone else’s shit just to prove he’s tough. “What’s the plan?”
“I’ll set up my shot, and then we wait.”
So we wait. And wait. And wait.
Finally, a light comes on inside the house, and then another. A million fucking years later, Reggie Song steps out. He’s talking on the phone, probably to his wife, and dipping his toe into the pool.
“Look at that motherfucker. Not a care in the world.”
“Soon, he won’t have any,” Stone grunts and gets down on the ground near his gun, looking through the scope to line up his shot.
“There’s movement in the downstairs window,” I tell him when I catch the figure moving back and forth.
“Keep an eye on her,” he instructs, his tone more serious than I’ve ever heard before.
I nod, even though he’s not paying attention to me. I keep my gaze on the woman walking by the window. A minute later, she peeks through the blinds, getting antsy about his call.
“Careful, she might come out to check on him.”
“That’s rich,” he chuckles. “The sidepiece is jealous of the wife.”
“The way he’s smiling it might be another sidepiece,” I shoot back just as she steps out of the sliding glass door.
Song drops down on his ass, letting his legs drop into the pool. He notices the woman and a second later ends the call.
“It’s now or never,” Lucky says.
“He’ll fuck her again to stop any questions,” I add.
“Got it.” Stone adjusts his body behind the gun and takes several deep breaths before squeezing off two shots. The first is a shot to the head, and the mayor goes still. The second shot hits his chest, and he falls forward into the pool.
His sidepiece screams her fucking head off, and I drop down on one side of Stone, collecting the discarded shell casings and shoving them into my pocket while Lucky is already heading back to the van.
“We won’t have much time to get away,” I warn. “In about sixty seconds, maybe one-twenty, she’ll get her shit together enough to call the cops. We need to stay low and out of sight until we get to the van. Got it?”
Stone nods, slinging the gun across his back as we crawl away, then he slowly but efficiently dismantles the gun before tossing it into the van. He looks at me with a smile. “That was fun.”
“Fun? I was hoping to make a mess.” I’m just as wound up as ever, maybe more because I thought I might get to work out some of my frustration.
Stone laughs. “Go home to your woman and make a mess with her.”
Together we watch and wait while the sidepiece continues freaking the fuck out, but then, just like I predicted, she rushes inside to call the cops. I jump into the passenger seat, and Stone slides into the first row just as Lucky hits the gas.
It’s done. We’ve paid our debt to the Iron Reapers, and it’s one less thing the MC has to worry about, but it doesn’t give me the relief I thought it would. Maybe I needed to get in there and get my hands dirty, or maybe I just need to clear the air with Cassidy. Either way, I’m restless when we return to the clubhouse and confirm that Reggie Song is dead.
That same restlessness gnaws at me as I head home. The place is dark, no lights flickering, and it’s damn too quiet, like nobody’s here. This isn’t right.
“Cass! We gotta talk,” I shout, half-expecting her to storm out, ready to rip my head off. But nothing. Just silence. “Cassidy!” I call again, checking each room. But she’s not here.
No sign of her. The clothes the girls dropped off for her are still on the shelf. But her backpack is gone. “Shit. Double shit.”
