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Anna swiped the phone and put it to her ear, “Hello?”
She listened for a few, and then every time she started to speak, the voice on the other end started up again, so she stopped. Deuce couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was some serious shit.
Finally, Anna pulled down her phone and looked at it. “She hung up on me.”
“Who?” Deuce asked.
“Jeff’s mom,” Anna answered. “She said that if the Dragons have my back and thereby hers, she’s got information. Said bad shit is coming. I have no idea what she’s talking about,” Anna said, looking up, “but you might want to tell Gate.”
He shook his head, “I got shit needs doing. Why don’t you stop by the compound and tell him yourself.”
Anna paled as she shook her head, “Probably not a good idea. I need to get back to the office.”
“Sounds like you need to go talk to Gate more,” Deuce pointed out.
Deuce watched Anna’s sigh and knew he had her.
“Sure you don’t wanna come?” Anna asked, voice hopeful.
“Nope,” Deuce answered. “I’m gonna sit this one out.”
Anna rolled her eyes, “Fine. It’s not that big a deal, right?”
She turned and started for the lot across the street.
Deuce watched traffic stop and Anna throw up a hand in thanks without ever knowing that she almost caused a three-car pileup.
Deuce grinned as he pulled aviators from the pocket of his tee and slid them on.
He really did have shit that needed doing, but he’d make sure that he was back
at the compound in time to catch the fireworks.
Chapter Nineteen
Jury’s Still Out
Gate
A knock at the door had Gate looking up from Talon’s latest inventory. “Yeah?”
Ink, a twenty-something brother who’d earned his patch the year before, stood in the doorway and shuffled on his feet.
Gate frowned, “What’s up?”
“You got company, boss.”
Gate glanced toward the front wall of his office, which did no good, and for the millionth time, cursed the lack of windows.
Talon had wanted secure, screw aesthetics, so when Talon had designed this particular part of the compound, he’d made sure that the only way into the president’s office was through the front door and that anything that happened outside in the lot did not reach Gate unless Gate wanted to be reached.
Most of the time, that sat well.
Times like this, however, it sucked ass.
“Who is it?” Gate asked, wishing like hell whoever it was would leave him alone so he could finish going through the pages on his desk since he and Talon had a meet scheduled any minute, and the further Jenna got in her pregnancy, Talon’s meetings were all about quality over quantity.
Talon didn’t waste time, and anyone who wanted to keep up with the ins and outs of the black market had better damn well do their homework.
