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GRAVE AND Iget out of my car at the Airport. Nite pulls up beside us and gets out of his. We make our way into the building and to the Mason brothers’ office. Grave hasn’t said two words to me since we left Kingdom, but I’m not taking it personally. He’s been in a pissy mood since we were here last night.
We enter the office, and Turner Mason—the middle brother—sits at the table. A duffel bag sits open in the center with money falling out of it onto the surface. He wears his shoulder holster with a Desert Eagle on each side. The Mason brothers shoot first and never ask questions.
Trey Mason—the baby—sits on his brother’s right. He spots us first. Pushing his chair back, he balances it on the back two legs and places his black boots up on the table. He locks his fingers behind his head, wearing a fucking smirk on his face.
I don’t see the eldest brother, Tanner, but the guy to Turner’s left quickly gets my attention. Because I just saw him last night. Mitch stands there with his back toward us, his hands on a woman’s ass and his tongue down her throat. And it must be my lucky day because I also know the woman he’s giving mouth to mouth to.
“Look, it’s two Kings and a Nite,” Trey announces to the room, alerting everyone of our presence.
Mitch shoves the woman away and spins around. His wide eyes meet mine. “Cross …”
The woman gasps and quickly shoves her skirt down back into place as if I’ve never seen her pussy before. I’ve made it very clear that we’re not exclusive, and she can fuck whoever she wants.
“I’m, uh …” Rachel rushes out, shoving her way through Grave and me and exiting the office.
“You can leave too.” I direct my attention to Mitch.
He squares his shoulders, about to tell me to fuck off when Turner snaps his fingers. “Out.”
Mitch doesn’t argue with him. No one ever wins with the Mason brothers or the Kings, for that matter. He exits much less dramatically than the girl.
“To what do we owe the honor?” Trey asks, that stupid smirk still on his face. I want to push him backward so he’ll fall out of his chair.
I don’t mind the Mason brothers even though I really don’t want to work with them. But Grave was right. If anyone knows what we need, it’ll be them. I direct my attention to Turner. “We need to speak to you privately.”
“Get the fuck out, Trey!” he orders his baby brother without a thought.
Turner Mason is all business, all the time. He reminds me of Bones.
Trey rights his chair and stands, giving his brother a go to hell look as he exits, knowing better than to argue with him. The Mason brothers aren’t afraid to fight, and that includes each other.
“What do you guys need?” Turner asks.
“Have you had any problems with your shipments lately?” Grave gets to the point.
Turner tilts his head and frowns slightly. “No.” He answers slowly. Not as if he had to think about it, more as if whether he should divulge that information to us or not.
The Mason brothers are like the Kings—they each have their own role in their business. Turner Mason is a contract killer; he is also in very tight with the Mexican Cartel. He makes monthly trips down to Arizona to exchangecargo,if you know what I mean. Hence the bag that sits on the table overflowing with cash and the guns strapped to his sides.
“Why do you ask?” He places his hands on the table.
Grave runs a hand through his hair, frustrated that this is going to be another dead end. “We had a client come to us, wanting us to take care of a problem. We found a guy … and let’s just say he’s now buried in the desert because he refused to talk.”
“What was the shipment?” Turner asks.
“Diamonds,” I answer. He has to know what he’s looking for. Otherwise, this visit was pointless. People will sell and trade anything.
Turner nods his head once. “I will keep an eye out and let you know if I hear anything that sounds off.”
“Thanks,” I say and turn to leave, ready to get the fuck out of here, but Turner stops me when he speaks to Grave.
“But I do have some information that you may want to know.”
Grave steps forward, getting closer to the table where Turner’s still casually sitting. “What is it?”
“Your boy? He’s ten grand deep.”
