Foxy lifts her eyes, takes a sip of her coffee, and strokes Panda’s fur. “Hey, guys.”
“Can you keep an eye on her?” I ask, nodding toward Frankie.
Frankie narrows her eyes at me. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”
I grin and plant a hard kiss on her lips. “Don’t make me spank that ass, baby.”
She growls, and my dick gets hard. I fucking love her bad attitude. It just does it for me.
“Be good, baby,” I murmur against her ear. “I’ll be back soon.”
Leaving her in the hands of my future sister-in-law, I stroll down the hallway to the chapel. Inside, everyone is already seated and waiting.
“About fucking time,” Tacoma grumbles from his spot at the head of the table.
I flip my brother off as I take my seat.
“Lover boy was busy getting his dick wet,” Journey smirks from across the table.
I roll my eyes. They can crack all the fucking jokes they want.
Tacoma bangs the gavel and turns his attention to Cyber. “Let’s get on with it.”
Cyber clears his throat. “Right. So, I’ve been looking into those men who attacked Saylor and Frankie.”
“Where are they?” I cut in, looking at my brother.
“In the shed,” he answers.
I grunt in satisfaction. I can’t wait to pay them a visit.
Tacoma narrows his eyes at me for interrupting. “Let Cyber finish.”
Cyber nods, his eyes flicking back to his tablet. “They’re from the Louisiana Bayou. But here’s the interesting part,” he glances around the table, making sure everyone is paying attention, “there’s a money trail linking them to the Valenciaga crime family.”
A chorus of “Fuck” goes around the table.
“Isn’t that the same family the Saints in Jacksonville are having problems with?” Bash asks, leaning forward.
Tacoma’s eyes flare, and he holds up his hand. “Shut the fuck up.” He grabs the phone sitting in the center of the table, dials a number, and puts it on speaker.
After three rings, a gruff voice answers. “Yo.”
“Chief,” my brother says, greeting the Jacksonville Saints’ president. “It’s Tacoma in Odin.”
“What’s up, brother?”
My brother sighs. “Nothing good, I’m afraid.”
Chief grunts. “It’s catching.”
It’s worse than catching. They’re spreading like goddamn wildfire. The fucking Russians are expanding their enterprise across the country at warp speed. “Why you askin’?” Chief continues.
“Seems we have the same pest problem,” Tacoma replies, his voice tight.
“Motherfuckers,” Chief swears. “Let me know if you need any assistance with the problem.”
“Same goes,” Tacoma says before ending the call.
