I wave them off down the alleyway, then head inside to take a big leap with a small man.
20
Rafi
The heavy bolts disengage, and the door swings open. The first thing Everett’s eyes land on is the gun in my hand. My finger is off the trigger and it’s pointed toward the ground, but the warning is there all the same.
His eyes first shift downward as he bites his lip, but then he looks up at me with unfiltered desire in his eyes. I’m starting to get the feeling that he wasn’t turned off by my murder boner.
I raise my eyebrow and take my time scoping out his ridiculously hot aesthetic. Strong, but not pretty. Artistic, but not fussy. “I’m going to need some answers. Right now.”
He nods and walks in, quickly followed by Thane and my dear brother-in-law.
Thane ignores the gun in my hand and asks, “Did y’all clean up in here?”
Parker is seated with a gun on the table in front of her, looking surprisingly comfortable. “This room was a disaster. You’ve got what, a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of equipment here? And no storage. Guns, ammo, other munitions I’m not familiar with just hanging out everywhere.”
She’d organized everything by category, and even lining the floor it was a damn sight better than what we’d walked into.
Thane spreads his hands, smirking. “Apologies that we didn’t get around to setting the place up to your specifications.”
“Also?” she says, ignoring his snark while pointing to a rig in the back of the room. “That’s a meat pole for deer carcasses”—she points to the floor—“hanging over a drain”—pointing to the wall—“with a high-powered hose attached. In a room full of sensitive computer equipment. So yes, I rearranged a bit. I suggest you buy some cabinets and move your mini kill room into a different area. I don’t even want to know about your calendaring system, I’m sure it would drive me to drink.”
Thane, looking like he’s been taken down a peg, runs a big paw over his neatly kept beard. “She’s not wrong.”
I flop my gun-free hand in the air. “Yes, yes. I’m sure y’all are very happy she Marie Kondo’d your fucking criminal enterprise. I’m still going to need some answers.”And for Everett to take off his pants, please and thank you.
“Baby boy, you haven’t asked any questions.” Everett, the bastard, is smirking.
My eyebrow arch is up to my hairline, and I will my lips to stay neutral, even though a slow, bemused curl pulls at the corner of my mouth. “Do you really think right now is the moment for cute nicknames?”
Knowing his teasing smile is going to be the death of me, I turn to my brother-in-law, asking the question I’ve had all night. “What the hell, Omar?”
He gestures to the space as though it were obvious. “I’m working with Everett and the team.”
“No shit. And the bad guys?”
Everett speaks up. “They’re with Anders and Odd. The group here takes care of individuals who exploit and hurt others. Anders and Odd also work for a team that is equipped to take down larger organizations.”
“So, who’s DB?” Parker asks, repeating the question they’d ignored earlier.
Everett considers her question for a moment before finally deciding on his answer. “He’s sort of our boss. He manages a physical and digital security team in Dallas, but we handle the messier side of the business.”
“Thus, the meat pole.”
“Yes.”
“And this fancy in-table display,” she says, hitting a button while the three of them look on with a combination of surprise and dismay.
Anders and Odd show up on the screen, with two trussed-up guys in the back seat of a pickup. “Hey, guys, we’re still on the…oh. Hi, Parker and Rafi.”
“What the hell?” I ask, leaning in. “Are those paper towels in that guy’s mouth?”
Everett rubs his scruff. “Yeah, I didn’t have anything else to gag him with.”
“T-that’s your rope?” I ask, wishing I hadn’t sounded so hopeful. I mean, I wasn’t turned on by the prints in Riley’s office space, but seeing it now…let’s just say I’m growing as a person. Everett catches my look and gives me what can only be described as nonambiguous fuck-me eyes.
I let out a slow breath and will my dick to stay the fuck down.
