“Yeah, well, before you get your dick hard for me, you should know Marcus and his brother Lucas went to Waffle House this morning and two of the other patrons were boasting to each other about how much money they were about to be paid for delivering twin sisters to Madam LaBell last week.”
“Anything else? Bragging about money doesn’t give a starting location.” I sip more whiskey.
“No shit, dickhead. They followed them to The Lucky Rabbit but lost them once inside. I’m telling you, we need to get on the ball, these girls can’t afford to wait.” His voice is etched with worry.
“Were they able to get a tag number?”
“Yes, and I had the numbers ran. They’re ghost tags. The vin numbers had also been removed.”
“Send me a description of the vehicles and men and I’ll have Ethan see what he can pull from the cameras in bothlocations later.” I finish my glass and pour another. “It’ll take time to set up our own surveillance in there. For now, send out extra boats and we will try to monitor everything going in and out of the casino.”
“I’ll get right on it.” He hangs up the phone.
It’s possible if we play our cards right, we can shut this operation down before we have to send the girl inside. I pull my phone back out and click on the surveillance feed in her room.
She’s spread out on the bed, not moving. I watch the slow, but steady, rise and fall of her chest while she naps. She looks so frail and defenseless, not like someone who blew up a house with a blood relative inside.
Everyone has a breaking point, and she didn’t show any remorse when talking about him last night. She’s already stronger than she gives herself credit for. I can’t wait to see who she becomes with some therapy and training.
I’m going to push every single limit she has until she’s unstoppable in any situation. Hopefully, she doesn’t blow me up, too.
“Mr. Ryker, Karen Smith is here to see you.” Sasha’s voice comes over the intercom.
Geezus fucking dammit. Can this day get any better? I take another long swig of whiskey.
“Tell her to fuck off, I’m at lunch,” I yell back in the intercom, but it’s too late, Karen, in all her ginger glory, is already seeing herself in.
“Nicholas…” She fake smiles.
“It’s Sir Nicholas to you, Skarin.” I grab the bottle of whiskey and sit back in my chair, my feet propped on my desk. I’ve got a good buzz going.
“Skarin?” She rolls her eyes and flips her hair back. “How old are you? Five?”
“Actually, I’m six. I just had a birthday last week. Did you come to bring me a present?” I give her the biggest, cheesiest grin I can muster.
“No, I’m here to talk to you about the boy you let go to prison last week. How convenient that he ended up being immediately released into gen pop and getting beat within an inch of his life. His mother was found the next day so drugged out of her mind, she couldn’t even remember her own son, let alone her own name.” Her arms cross and her eyes burn into me.
“Your point? I can’t control what happens in prison or what people do in the streets.” Did she seriously come here thinking I would admit to my crimes?
“I’m the captain of the ship around here, Nicholas. I know he was working for you.”
Captain Cunt… Has a nice ring to it. “Can you do me a favor, Captain Cunt, and row, row, row your boat the fuck away from me? I’m trying to drink my lunch.”
She looks at me with disgust as I take a long swig straight from the bottle and slams her palms down on my desk, leaning closer to me. “If you think for one minute that I don’t know about your illegal weapons trading off the coast, you’re dead wrong. Everything that comes through these ports comes through me. I won’t have you messing up Gulf View’s integrity.My agents are the eyes and ears of the water. You’re going down, asshole.”
“Going down on what? You? No thanks, but…” I lean over my desk looking down at her. “I would like to know if the curtains match the drapes.” I hiccup.
“Are you drunk?” She stands up straight and eyes me with disgust.
I might be.
“I…am…amazing.” I take another swig and hiccup again, “You know…if you removed the rule book from your ass, you…” I point at her, “could be amazing, too.”
Her pale face boils with rage. “You are such an arrogant bastard.”
“I know that.” I wave the bottle around. “Want some?”
“Keep your fucking men off my coastline.” She slams her hand down on my desk again, trying to reinforce her seriousness. It’s kinda cute.
