I nod to the two guys and shoulder past them, moving to the door at the end of the hall. I open it and enter. Four guys sit around a round table. Trey Mason looks up at me, his dark eyes crinkling around the edges from his wide smile. His shoulder holster has a Desert Eagle in each one. They look too big for his smaller build.
Leaning back in his seat, he takes a drag from his cigarette and exhales a cloud of smoke. “Grave.”
To his right, Tanner Mason, the eldest brother, stands at the table, methodically stuffing guns into cases. I thought he was in prison, but guess not. He glances at me, and without a word, goes back to packaging the weapons.
Trey rises from his seat and strolls over to me, pulling me in for a manly handshake, back-slapping hug. “What’s been going on?”
“Not much,” I say, looking around the room. “Where’s Turner?” He usually handles these types of situations. He’s the middle brother. Trey, here, is the baby. They don’t let him take care of much when it comes to business, and I really don’t want to have to speak to Tanner. He hates me, but he has a legitimate reason to feel that way.
“He’s loading the truck, preparing for a run to Phoenix tomorrow,” Trey answers, checking his watch.
I nod. Among other things, the Mason brothers sell weapons and ammo to the Mexican Cartel. They are in as deep as you can get with them.
“Grave?” A guy sitting at the round table stares up at me. I can tell by his eyes that he’s high. Not to mention the lines of coke on a small mirror before him. “I know you.”
“I don’t know you,” I counter.
He smirks. “You won me twenty thousand last weekend.”
Ah, I see.My fight.“You’re welcome.”
“I told you,” Trey says. “The guy never loses a fight.”
“Why are you here, Grave?” Tanner acknowledges me. His voice reveals his irritation.
I square my shoulders. “May I speak to the two of you?” Might as well include him. If he’s present, he’s the boss. “Privately?”
Tanner’s eyes drop to the duffel bag I’m carrying, and he nods. “In the office.” He gestures his chin to the door at the back of the room.
Trey and I follow him into the room. On the wall behind the desk is a massive picture of a woman, framed in black wood. A camera, positioned above, looks down on her. She lies flat on her back in the middle of a king-size bed with her arms and legs spread wide open.
Each limb is tied to a wooden corner post with rope, and a black blindfold covers her eyes. Her fake tits stand straight up, both nipples pierced with spikes. She has an O-ring open-mouth gag secured to a leather head harness, keeping her mouth open. Written on her stomach in black marker—Use me.
Rumor has it their father gave it to them when they took over his business. It’s a reminder that men do as they please. They come as they please. Women are just toys to be used.
“What is it that you want, Grave?” Tanner asks, sitting behind the desk, getting my attention. “Need some fire power?”
“Not today.” I toss the bag onto the surface and unzip it. “It’s fifty grand.”
Tanner arches a brow, glancing down at the money, then back up at me. “If you want someone dead, you’ll have to pay more than that.”
Trey snorts.
I don’t need a hitman.“I can do that on my own.” We never use the Masons for help. My brother hates them, and Titan has nothing to do with them. I don’t mind them and neither does Cross. I spent a lot of time with Trey back in the day until we got fucked up together and he did a job that led to Tanner going to jail. “This is about April.”
His brows pull together. “Is that supposed to mean something?”
“Roses,” I state.
“Ah, the little flower shop.” He nods. “What about it?”
“Her brother owes you money. And this”—I point at the money—“is the payment.”
Trey smiles. “So my goonies were able to make him pay up. Was he too afraid to come pay me himself?”
“No.”
“Then, what?”
