“I just found out myself, but…they seem pretty fucking happy.”
Charlie lets out an ancient sigh. “I don’t suppose people think Justin and I make very much sense either.”
Justin pulls him into a hug and kisses the side of his head, grinning.
“Y’all do know this is serious, right?” Charlie asks. “People’s lives are on the line, and if this relationship goes south, it’s mutually assured destruction if either of you speaks. Fuck, and Nacho hasn’t even signed an NDA.”
“I’ll sign it, but you don’t need one.”
“I have no intention of letting anything go south,” Bram says, looking directly at me.
I suck in my bottom lip. “Same.”
“Fine. Justin? You okay doing this with Nacho, and I’ll hang back in my truck?”
“I’ll wait in the truck with you,” Bram insists.
“With Bram, it seems,” Charlie amends, losing a tiny bit of his chill edge.
“Sure. This is what Nacho and I do all the time. In fact, we haven’t been able to work together in a while, so I’m looking forward to it.”
Justin and I bump fists. Then get ready to spy on a human trafficker.
20
BRAM
Charlie and I are in his truck, watching the video feed through an app on Charlie’s phone, as Nacho and Justin pull up.
“Y’all arelate,” the lady—Joanna—barks out.
Stretching my neck, I remind myself that Nacho knows how to handle rude people and I don’t need to go over there and correct her manners for her.
Justin answers, “Yes, ma’am. Apologies for the delay, but we’ll have you squared away by sundown.”
“Fine. I’ve got some permit issues to deal with. Can’t even build on my own fucking land without the county halfway up my ass. Are y’all actually going to get this done today?”
One of Charlie’s contacts is good with hacking systems and did a solid for us. That little permit situation she’s having to deal with is totally our fault and should keep her busy for at least an hour.
“Yes, ma’am. Me and Nacho are the fastest guys on the crew, and we’ll have this done in under an hour.”
“What happened to the other guy?” she asks, venom in her voice as she looks past them to the partially fenced-in building. “The little gay boy.”
Fuck this bitch.
“Well, ma’am, it was his error that led to the delay,” Justin explains. Nacho’s cam picks up Justin’s sincere expression, and I’m glad they sent him instead of Ant because Ant has zero poker face. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t his first issue with this kind of job, so we had to let him go.”
Her sigh is long-suffering and irritates my sinuses.
“Can’t trust those Mexicans to do anything right anyway,” she says a little too comfortably.
Nacho’s camera angles off as though he’s stepped away. Charlie and I catch a few colorful words uttered under his breath.
“Like I said, ma’am, won’t ever happen again. Me and Nacho will have your fence up in no time flat.”
“Fine. Just get it done. And what kind of name is Nacho, anyway?” she asks, mocking him. “What was your mother thinking?”
“Well, I was a crack baby, ma’am,” he answers completely deadpan. “So I doubt good ole Mom was thinking very much of anything.”
