The tip of her tongue peeks out between her lips, and I suppress a groan when a million filthy ideas run through my head about where I want that tongue on my body. Then she smiles, and it’s like the sun after a storm. “I hate baloney.”
Finally.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a start.
“Same,” I admit as I (reluctantly) shove away from her. “The windows are bullet resistant. The door is steel.” I go to the gun cabinet, open it, and slap a Glock on the table. “Know how to use this?” She nods. “Good. Shoot anyone who walks up to this cabin and doesn’t know the password.”
With Kerri hanging on my instructions, she asks, “What’s the password?”
“Grogu.”
I got to name this place and pick the password.
Let’s play a game called Guess My Favorite Movie Franchise.
5
HAVOC
Meeting Jester in the depressed town of Jackson is a risk I’m willing to take. It’s safe to assume that with the National Security Agency’s unfettered overreach into American citizens’ lives when the government was reestablished after the war, our phones are under constant surveillance. We’re not exactly Boy Scouts. The Unholy has been on the NSA’s radar since Holiday, Whip, Hudson, and Goddamn Jones founded the gang to drive out the surrounding criminals and keep the corrupt politicians from infecting Mayhem.
So, yeah, we may do everything within our power to make our digital footprint untraceable, but nothing is guaranteed. Hence, why we never talk business over the phone.
You never know who might be listening.
Hackers included.
Those nosy fuckers are everywhere.
Much of Jackson was rebuilt, but it never fully recovered. The signs of devastation remain in hollowed-out buildings that line the streets as I drive through the town. And when I meet Jester at the town’s only supermarket, with its off-brand products and limited stock, it’s obvious supply chain issues persist this far north.
We ignore the curious—and frightened—attention directed at us as he falls in step beside me. It’s impossible to blend in with the locals. We both stand over six feet and weigh in at two hundred and fifty-plus pounds of tattooed muscle. Even covered in oversized hoodies and baggy jeans, we’re still broader and taller than every other man in the store.
We stand out.
Jester doesn’t waste a second before firing the first volley of questions at me. “The Death Star? Is it that bad? What the hell, Hav?”
I grab a bag of apples and toss it in the cart. “Last night was a shitshow. First, I find out it was Casper Wentz who killed Little Man and stole that money from me.”
“That fucking asshole.” Jester tosses strawberries in the cart. He knows Kerri’s preferences, given that she stays with him and Faith when she’s in Mayhem. “I take it he’s no longer among the living?”
“I solved a problem.” My remark is casual because no one—and I mean no one—will miss the crusty little bastard. “And speaking of… Kerri eliminated a problem as well.”
And this brings us back around to why we’re hunkering in at the Death Star.
Jester stops dead. He blinks those weird, amber-colored eyes at me, all traces of his usual sarcastic humor gone. “The. Fuck?”
“Exactly.”
He drags a hand through his already messy brown hair, digesting the implication of my sentence. “Kerri?As in Faith’s friend Kerri?”
“You know another Kerri?” I glance at a passing elderly couple before refocusing my attention on Jester. “And keep your voice down.”
“Whoa, so wait. This morning, when you said she had car trouble, I didn’t realize it was, like,vehicular.” As in manslaughter. He steps closer. “What happened?”
By the time we make it to the end of the produce department, I’ve filled Jester in on the details about Casper and everything Kerri told me about her father, which he already knew because they’ve become as close as siblings. In the dry goods sections, I tell him about Ralph Miller and the events of last night. Lastly, in the frozen food aisles, I explain how we need protection on the Ward family, at the hospital and their home. Also, we need people looking into what happened to her father. And, of course, I want details on this Miller person, right down to his favorite fucking color.
What happened to Kerri’s family is a puzzle, and I’m going to find every piece and fit it into place. Once I have the complete picture, I’m going to rip the souls clean out of the bodies of everyone involved.
