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“Where are the three girls?” I asked, the bark of the tree I was leaning against digging into my back.
“Two are sunbathing and, Jesus, is that what I think it is?” He lowered the binoculars, his lip curling as he looked over his shoulder at me. “I cannot unsee that shit, brother.”
Plenty of shit happened at the clubhouse, so I couldn’t even imagine what my brother had done that he found so distasteful. Curiosity ate at me, but you couldn’t pay me enough money to look through those binoculars right now. I shuddered at the thought of either catching a glimpse of my brother’s hard dick or seeing hisOface.
“That bad, huh?”
“Dude. I’m not sure what was more disturbing. Her feeding him what appeared to be a rolled slice of bologna while she rode him in the pool or the guards standing around watching like it was grade A porn. Fucking weirdos. The least they could have done was feed each other some sexy shit like strawberries and whipped cream.”
He had a valid point. That shit was gross enough to make my dick shrivel, and with Brandy in the picture that was saying something. On the upside, this was the kind of distraction that would allow Marek to slip away.
“Look alive, he’ll be along any minute now.”
Sure enough, Marek’s broad shoulders and short mop of graying curls gave him away as he moved along the outside of the brick fence.
“That’s the guy?”
“Yeah.”
He cracked his neck and jumped around on the balls of his feet like he was a damn prize fighter. Idiot. Marek had been killing men on my father’s orders while Cannon was still sucking on his mom’s tit. Ryder knew the details of my plan, but suddenly I was second guessing whether Cannon could handle the simple task of watching my brother whenever Marek couldn’t.
Marek stopped a short distance from us, crossing his arms over his chest as he sized Cannon up. Thankfully, he’d quit hisRockyroutine, so it was only his fashion sense, or lack thereof, that Marek could find fault with.
“Marek, this is Cannon. He’ll be staying behind to follow Piotr whenever he leaves the compound. He knows to remain hidden, but if you could try to make sure he doesn’t get shot, the club would be grateful.”
He pointed to the jean jacket Cannon wore underneath his cut. “Piotr will spot him coming a mile away, you know that, right?”
“This version of him, yes,” I said with a sigh. “But the next time you see him, if you do, he’ll be properly outfitted. Car, clothes, the works.”
“Good.” He rubbed his chin. “I see you haven’t lost your touch with losing a tail.”
“I’m not sure where Piotr got the first set of guys, but they were about as inconspicuous as a bull in a field of bunnies. We lost them right after we left the club. The second guy, though, he was good. I had to drive damn near to Mexico before I lost him. He’ll report that as my last known location, so as long as I show back up in the same spot within the next twenty-four hours Piotr won’t be too alarmed.”
“I’ll have to pass on your high praise the next time I speak with my son.” He chuckled. “You’re not the only one who’s grown up, Mikolaj.”
“So, it would seem,” I retorted dryly, feeling every bit my age.
I could remember his son carrying army men and race cars as he trailed behind Bea. That kid had the biggest crush on her back then. Hell, he still might for all I knew.
Marek stepped forward and held out his hand. “Safe travels, heh,braciszek.”
His dark eyes reflected the tug at the corner of his lip. My father never fucked with Marek the way he did others. Either he liked him, or as close as someone with our affliction can get, or Marek had something on him. If he did, he’d never used it, which spoke volumes about his character. Only time would tell, though, if he would earn my trust.
When I shook his hand, I also clapped him on the shoulder. “I never forget to reward those who are loyal to me. It’s a lesson our father taught us that my brother has obviously forgotten.”
He nodded as I released him, his dark eyes somber. Marek had never been overly chatty, so with our business complete, he walked away.
Once he was out of earshot, Cannon asked, “What does that mean, you’ll outfit me with stuff. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
Marek would have laughed in his face had he asked that earlier, and I was grateful he’d kept his mouth shut. For once. The question about his attire I wouldn’t dignify with an answer. He’d be following Piotr to places like the country club, golf course, and five-star restaurants. Places where he would stick out like a sore thumb when he needed to blend in. By the time I was done with him, he would.
“Whenever you fuck up, I’m the one who has to protect the club by cleaning up your messes.”
“What the hell, man,” he said, taking the cigarette from behind his ear and lighting it.
“But”—his lips parted, and I held up a finger—“I know it’s not because you’re trying to hurt the club. Loyalty is rare, and yours has never been in question. That’s why I haven’t brought it to the club’s attention that I’ve been quietly taking care of shit. This time, I won’t be around to save you, and if Piotr catches you, death will be a welcome relief.”
He blew smoke out the side of his mouth and when he raised his cigarette to his lips, there was a slight tremor in his hand. Good. I needed him to take me seriously. Piotr might not like to get his hands dirty, but he wasn’t without imagination. Our father’s garish displays, of those bodies he wanted to be found, were infamous. Being the next in the line of succession, more was expected of me than Piotr, but that didn’t mean he was spared. We both learned from an early age the things that could be done to a man with a blade.
