Richie breathed in. “The Kingdom Boys don’t welsh on agreements.”
Good to know. “Then we’ll make sure to leave you five stars on the site,” Denver said congenially. He could get both guns and pistol-whip the snot out of these jerks before they could suck in a breath. If only he knew where the baby was being held. God, she had to be okay.
Richie looked him over. “You don’t even look cold. You some type of soldier?”
“I just get the job done.” Denver rolled his neck. “Are we almost there?”
Richie shrugged. “Soon enough.” He tucked his gun into loose-fitting jeans while the guy with the Sig kept his pointed at Denver. “Why do your clients want a baby? Really?”
“Adoption takes too long,” Denver lied. “Whose baby is it, anyway?”
Richie snorted. “I’m on the birth certificate, but who the hell knows. The mom was a skank, man.”
“What if the baby is yours?” Denver had no reason to try to find humanity in this scum, but he couldn’t help it.
Richie lifted a narrow shoulder. “You think I should keep a kid?” He grinned at his buddy.
“Good point,” Denver said. “I can assure you, the people who want to adopt the baby only want one to love. Nothing skeevy.”
Richie snorted. “For the kind of money they’re paying, I don’t give a shit.”
Oh, he was going to kill this asshole. Denver’s hand fisted. He coughed out, trying to control himself. “Good.” Denver glanced toward the driver. After another ten minutes of driving, they pulled up outside a dilapidated motel on the other side of town. The kind of place that rented by the hour, if it rented at all. “Tell me you don’t have a baby here.” The urge to run inside and save the baby coursed through him.
“Don’t be picky.” Richie yanked open the door and jumped out. “Be careful on the ice. With socks, it’s going to be slippery.” He laughed and started moving toward the doorway to room number five.
The kid with the Sig motioned for Denver to get out.
Denver stepped out, careful of his balance. He grabbed the case and followed Richie, fully aware of the gun at his back. A quick glance around showed the place to be deserted. The wind picked up, chilling his bare skin. He could hear cars and movement all around, but many people were heading to work. Was backup near?
He couldn’t make a move until he saw that the baby was safe. “You guys have to know. If you double-cross me, my people will hunt you across the globe and rip out your eyeballs.”
Richie kept going and knocked three times on the door. It slowly swung inward. “Go.”
Denver took one last listen around and then stepped into a room that smelled like mold. Filthy shag carpet covered the floor, and peeling wallpaper covered the dingy walls. Two men sat at a rickety table, guns in front of them and gang tats all over their faces. One appeared around fifty and the other thirty. A woman sat on the one bed, a baby in her arms. The woman from the pictures he’d shown Noni. He looked closer. The baby was dressed in pink with a bow in her mass of hair. She slept peacefully, and she looked clean. A healthy tinge covered her little cheeks.
Relief nearly dropped him to his knees. Only training kept him in place.
Richie shut the door, remaining outside with the others. Probably to scan for threats.
Denver concentrated on the danger inside the room. He’d deal with Richie later and after Talia was safe.
The older man nodded at the case. “Open it.” His voice was raspy as if he’d been smoking three packs a day his entire life.
Denver turned to place the case on the bed. He opened it slowly. Rows of cash showed clearly, with the paper beneath hidden.
He moved to the side and closer to the baby as if to give a clear view of the money.
A closer examination showed the woman’s pupils to be dilated and her jaw slack. Whatever she was on obviously didn’t affect her ability to hold the baby. Even so, Denver’s arms itched to take the infant and get her to safety.
The younger guy stood up and crossed to the case.
Denver angled closer. He could grab the gun, or he could grab the baby. If he got the gun, would the woman harm the baby? His only choice was to go for the gun and hope the woman was too stoned to think.
His muscles bunched.
A flurry of movement sounded outside. Were more gang members right outside? How would he get the baby out? He couldn’t just shoot his way out with a baby in his arms.
The gang member reached the case and started filtering through the money. Denver stiffened and prepared to strike. The second the gang member found the paper, he pivoted around, his mouth opening to yell.
