I’ve known Wolf for three years. It’s a small chunk of time, but in our world, it’s a lifetime. People come and go, disappearing because of death or prison, and time is usually counted in weeks instead of years. The best in our industry find ways to stay under the radar, and much like me, Wolf has found a way. At least, I thought so until he vanished without a trace.
There’s a faint line of sweat dotting his brow, and he wipes it away. “So what’s new? Anything you’re working on?”
“Nothing. I’m taking a break.” I’m not convinced that he’s not wearing a wire or working for the Feds, so I give him nothing. “How about you?”
“Fuckin’ Hassan has me working on this bullshit overseas.”
Alex Hassan never works under the radar. Never. But he has enough money in his pocket to pay off politicians in the US and the Middle East to make his ass almost untouchable. He’s been dealing arms to rebel armies for years and has connections that most people can’t replicate.
“Is that where you’ve been?”
“Yeah.” He nods and huffs out a breath, puffing his cheeks out like a blowfish. “It sucks over there. I still have sand stuck in places I didn’t even know existed.”
I breathe a little easier knowing he was on assignment and not with the Feds. It’s something I can check easily with a simple conversation. Hassan’s here every night when he’s in town, without fail with some new piece of ass on his arm. The bastard gets laid more than Hugh Hefner. He’s the Middle East criminal version of the guy—without the Playboy mansion and the Grotto.
“I could’ve told you it’s a shithole over there.”
“Doesn’t matter.” He waves me off as the waitress approaches. Wolf smiles up at her, his broad grin growing larger as he ogles her breasts. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, Popcorn?”
“Hey, stranger. I thought you were gone forever. Thought the Feds may have finally nabbed your ass.” She laughs softly, her dark eyes sparkling when she tips her head back and the overhead lighting falls upon her face.
“I’m too good for that.”
One thing I know is that no one istoo goodfor that. One mistake and everything can be over. It’s a fact that we all live with every day. It’s that simple and something I never forget. We don’t walk through life like most people; we skate the law, living on the fringe and embracing the freedom that comes with it. Each of us knows that it can all end in an instant.
“What can I get you, Wolfy baby?” she asks, running her hand through his hair.
He slides his hand up her fishnet-covered thigh. “How about a piece of you?” he replies and licks his lips.
She slaps his hand away playfully and giggles. “Maybe another time.”
“Just grab me a vodka on the rocks, doll.”
She gives Wolf a small wink and turns her attention to me. “You want another, Nix?”
“Sure. I’ll take another.”
After a quick nod, she saunters away, swaying her hips wildly, giving him a show. “She’s such a tease,” he mutters, unable to look away from her performance. “It’s nice to see barely dressed American women. I don’t know how the guys over there do it. I saw tons of eyes over there, but nothing else. The nuns showed more shit when I was in school.”
I’m a little stunned that he had a solid upbringing. He doesn’t have the manners or morals of a kid born with a silver spoon. “You went to Catholic school?”
“Right before my sophomore year, I was expelled from public school. My parents thought private school would give me the focus to make something of myself.” He laughs and shakes his head.
“Glad to see that worked out.”
“Wolf,” says a familiar voice.
My eyes drift over the rim of my Cognac and catch a glimpse of black leather knee-high boots and jet-black stockings with a hint of lace showing below an extra short skirt. Standing with his latest conquest and soon-to-be piece of trash at his side is Hassan.
“Hassan,” Wolf greets him. “Care to sit?”
“Thank you.” He holds up his hand, placing the woman next to Wolf before sliding into the booth next to me. “Nix.” He extends his hand across the table, waiting for me to extend my own.
He’s one of my least favorite people in the place, well, besides Carlito. He never welches on a deal, but there’s something about him that has always irked me. Maybe it’s the way he uses people, especially women, and then throws them away. Even with my feelings for him, I still shake his hand and finally let my gaze wander across the table to his guest.
Hassan notices and grins. “Gentlemen, this is Eva.”
“Ma’am.” I tip my head but say nothing more. Hassan is known for being with beautiful women, but there’s something about Eva that makes her stand out from the others.
