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“We ready?” Spec asked.
“Hell yeah,” Jinx said as he rubbed his hands together. “Always ready to teach motherfuckers a lesson.”
“You good, Bren?”
Now that they were there, her confidence began to slip, replaced by a flurry of nerves in her stomach. “Yeah,” she answered with more conviction than she felt. “Let’s do this.”
A radio crackled before anyone could respond. Spec lifted a walkie-talkie off the bar. “Go, Frost.”
“Shithead incoming. I’ll follow him to the door and escort the bastard to the party.”
Brenna’s stomach bottomed out. Her palms began to sweat. The outfit that had felt like a shield only moments ago left her exposed and vulnerable.
“Hey.”
She turned her head toward Lock, who wore a solemn expression. “You got this. No doubt in my mind.” Then he winked.
How had he known she needed to hear those words? Could he read her that well already?
I have this.
“Thank you,” she whispered as the door opened, and Frost shoved Oliver into the clubhouse.
His eyes immediately landed on her, and she froze like a deer in headlights. Her ex looked like shit. His usually flawless suit was rumpled, his sandy hair jutted out in various directions, and the tan he worked so hard to maintain had faded to a dull gray. He wore dirty dress shoes and held a thick envelope in his left hand.
The missing money that had started it all.
Thank God she wasn’t required to speak first because her tongue lay heavy and limp in her mouth.
Spec didn’t have the same problem. “Ollie-boy, the guest of honor. Come on in.” He waved Oliver into the building.
“Uh, hey, Spec. Here you go. This is what I owe.” He held out the packet.
Straight to business.
Spec waved it away. “Nah, we’ll get to that. How about a drink first?”
“It’s, uh… it’s five in the morning.” His eyes darted around the room. No one else was drinking, given the early hour.
“Exactly,” Spec said. “Five o’clock. Drinking time.” He grabbed a shot off the bar and handed it to Oliver, eliminating the man’s choice.
“Well, okay. Thank you,” Oliver said, accepting it as though he wanted it. “Uh, cheers, I guess.” He glanced around the room once more before tipping his head back and letting the shot slide down his throat.
As Brenna watched, she tried to remember what she’d found attractive about him in the first place. Was it the perfectly coiffed blond hair? The sharp blue eyes? Maybe his lean, gym-honed muscles. His confident, bordering on arrogant, personality? What she’d considered attractive and appealing, she now found lacking in every way possible.
“Like you said, I believe you have something for me.” Spec held out a hand.
“Yes. Here you go.” He thrust the envelope forward.
“Thank you.” Spec snatched the packet and handed it off to Ty without looking. Ty immediately opened it and began counting while a heavy blanket of tension settled on the quiet room. Oliver fidgeted, clearly uncomfortable. Every so often, his gaze shifted to her, then back to Spec.
“All there,” Ty announced a few moments later.
“Okay, so I can take Brenna and go?”
Over my dead body.
Spec tsked. “Well, see, that’s where we have a problem, Ollie. You gave Brenna to us, and I’m not sure we’re ready to give her back just yet. She and my boy Lock, here, are getting on real nicely if you know what I mean.”
