Page 7 of Of Snakes and Men

“Nah, man, he spent the morning cleaning up puke and shit,” Manny said, walking up behind Luis with an even more stacked plate. “I wouldn’t be hungry either.”

Luis’s brows pinched as he glanced over toward where Val was sitting at the front window, watching the grounds, likely itching to get out there with his friends.

But the dogs were on schedules. Some were in the house a good chunk of the day, but outside all night. Others had the opposite.

I didn’t believe in having dogs living outside, not even for protection, but some of them—like Val—seemed to live for their guard duties.

My gaze kept drifting toward the clock, watching the hours tick away, getting more and more concerned that I hadn’t heard from that PI place.

Were they really going to shoot themselves in the foot by not letting Hope take on the case?

I mean, they got paid whether she solved the fucking case or not. Though, yeah, I had no doubts that she was capable of sussing shit out.

If for no other reason than spite.

Spite was a powerful fucking motivator.

And there was no way she was working with those fuckheads who treated her like shit and didn’t have a well overflowing with fucking spite.

But as the morning slipped to afternoon, and the afternoon to evening, I was having less and less faith that the dysfunctional group of investigators were going to come to an agreement about my case.

On a sigh, I grabbed my keys and headed out, telling the guys that I was taking a drive, then grabbing one of the dogs, and getting her in the back seat.

As a general rule, I almost didn’t go anywhere without a dog.

Guns could be taken from you.

Or you could be too slow on the jump.

But dogs? Dogs were always watching, always sniffing, always listening. They knew trouble was approaching long before any of us did. And they didn’t hesitate to react to a threat when given a command to do so.

Really, the only thing I had to fear was someone shooting one of my dogs. And, so far, that hadn’t happened.

I had no destination in mind, just wanted to clear my head, try to figure out my next move if I couldn’t rely on Mason Investigations.

I mean, sure, Navesink Bank had their own PI firm. But the way shit was in our town, groups got incestuous with each other, and I didn’t want it getting back to anyone else that I was having issues.

I wanted the anonymity that came with choosing a PI out of my immediate town.

“Fuck,” I murmured to myself as my dog and I walked down the pier to look out over the Navesink River.

We were on the city side, but across from it were all the mansions where the rich people lived.

Still kinda got to me at times that I was one of those people. That my house was back there somewhere.

Slightly behind me, with her back to me, my dog started to let out a low growl. The uncertain kind that said she wasn’t sure if she was seeing a threat, or maybe just a shadow.

But I knew better than to second guess her instincts, so I turned, my hand poised over the belt holster I had hidden under my shirt.

And there she was, moving out from behind a tree, her steady gaze on mine.

It didn’t look like she’d gotten any sleep.

She’d clearly pulled an all-nighter judging by her tired eyes this morning, but they were even heavier now, and bloodshot.

I guess she was going to work my case after all.

And I was going to go ahead and pretend the pleasure I felt right then had everything to do with a capable woman on my case, and not the fact that I’d never been able to be near the woman without my cock getting all sorts of ideas about her.

Because that shit was never going to happen.

Especially since, judging by the look on her pretty face, she didn’t exactly want to do my job any more than her coworkers wanted her to.

But she was here.

So, clearly, it was a done deal.

CHAPTER THREE

Hope

“What the fuck did you say to him before we walked out here?” Mike raged, his face going an almost comical shade of red as he looked at me.

I was good at that.

Finding humor in their fury.

I doubt I would have been able to survive this long if I didn’t.

But there was a massive perk that came with being raised by overprotective parents, aunts, and uncles. Ones who knew about all the evils in the world, and how important it was to be prepared to defend yourself against it. See, they’d put me in all sorts of self-defense classes since I was hardly older than a toddler.

I’d been kicking asses of men much bigger than me since before I even got boobs.

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