“Boss?” Sawyer’s voice called again, “You got five seconds before I come in there, so you better not be buck ass naked and give me reason to order bleach for my eyeballs.”
“Shut up, asshole.”
“He lives.” Sawyer yelled from outside, “Make coffee if we want him human.” That it wasn’t Zack who came looking for him, told Castello that his second had probably been the one who came into the living room last night while he was kissing Axel.
Remembering the note, Castello turned it over in his hand and rubbed sleep from his eyes before reading.
Cas,
I gotta work, or my brain will go crazy.
My house is your house.
Axel.
P.S. Number for the shop is on the fridge. Call if you need me.
Castello ran his fingers over the words. There was nothing extravagant in what Axel had written. Even so, he made Castello’s heart do that clenching, flip-flop thing it had been doing since he met the man. Argh, it was probably his body telling him he’d put it through enough shit and it was going to provide him with a heart attack, rather than an indication that he was attracted to Axel. He was an idiot getting all sappy over freaking thirty words on the back of a fucking envelope. Throwing back the covers, Castello grabbed his pants and pulled them on. He might be kicking himself for being
a dumbass over the note, but it didn’t stop him from pushing the paper deep into his pocket. He headed toward the door, needing coffee and a piss, stat.
Didn’t matter what order they came in as long as both happened in the next five minutes or so.
Walking into the kitchen, Castello frowned when everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at him, “What?”
“Run.” Connor muttered, “Run for your lives.”
“Huh?” Castello bunched his muscles ready to move at only the word of one of his men. He had half turned before he heard the snicker, “What the fuck is going on?” Each word rose in volume until Castello roared the final one.
“Uh,” Sawyer filled a mug of coffee from the pot and held it out to Castello, “You were whistling, Boss.”
Damn idiots had lost their minds, he didn’t whistle.“No, I wasn’t.”
“Yup, you were.” Sage snickered, “Totally Julie Andrews shit.”
Castello shook his head, it was official, they were crazy, but he didn’t have time to worry about it. “If you say so.” Going to the fridge to see what he could have for breakfast, his eyes zeroed in on the small blackboard magnet with a phone number written on it in chalk. Thanks to a lifetime of memorizing codes and locations, numbers were easy for him. Castello quickly committed it to memory, he would put it in his phone later. When there weren’t a bunch of dickheads he called family staring at him like he was the one who had lost his damn mind. “What have we got?”
Two hours later, Castello knew he was acting like a little old lady with the curtains twitching, but he didn’t really give a fuck either. None of their contacts had been able to give them much intel. All they knew for sure was the Irish Mob was now working with the cartels. A couple of their enforcers had been ID'ed as former military, by a former enforcer no less. One who turned out to be Steele Givens’ kid brother. Wasn’t that a kicker, one of the most stubborn bullheaded, badassed motherfuckers Castello had ever had the pleasure to call ‘friend’ was the son of the new head of the Diamond Mob.
Castello and his team had listened to all the Panthers had to say. Castello had asked if the Panthers wanted to come here to Miami and deal with Steele and Zeke’s father themselves, but also understood why they refused. Conflict of interest and all that stuff. Panthers had dealt with enough shit over the past few years and did not need or want some Jackass in Washington deciding their actions were for personal reasons.
Castello had taken all the intel Kalon Roberts had gathered for his team and was grateful for it. With the confirmed involvement of former military personnel, getting the go ahead for this job from his Bosses at CID had been a piece of cake. Their orders moving them to Miami had returned almost immediately. Castello had no doubt there were more than a few heads within the department of Homeland Security and ATF rubbing their hands together in anticipation of this bust. Task Force Ambra had more than earned their reputation— Task Force Ambra got shit done.
Within twenty-four hours of orders coming down the line, they were on a military flight from Africa to Sigonella, then onward to the US and relocated here to Miami. That he could help Axel find his sister was important to him. He didn’t care why, didn’t give a shit if it was right or wrong, he just wanted to be the one to find her. He still had more questions than answers as to how and why Axel had gone to Africa after Gavin Kony.
It didn’t entirely make sense to him. Why not confront him in the United States? Why not go to the cops? Castello could smell that something stank, he just couldn’t figure out where it was coming from.
Twisting his head, he peered out the window to look at the middle-aged couple getting into their Lexus at the opposite house. It bugged the shit out of him that Griffin St. Clare was sure Axel was on the up and up. Castello might not want to admit it, but he wasn’t so sure, even if looking at the man’s mug shot made his stomach do weird flip flop shit. Now that he was out of the adrenaline rush being on a mission brought, and wasn’t snuggled in a bed breathing the man in, he could think clearly and would reserve judgement, no matter what the former Delta Force Team Panther medic or his heart had to say. The car pulling out of the other driveway drew his attention again. There was something off about those two.Or maybe you are just getting paranoidin your old age.“What are the neighbor's names again?”
Rafe handed him a cup of coffee, “Duncan and Angus, they are Scottish terriers.”
Castello frowned at Rafe over the rim of his mug, “Not the dogs, dumbass, the people.”
“Why the fuck would I know that?” Rafe immediately ducked his head, Zack’s hand skimming over the top of his hair, missing the direct hit on the back of Rafe’s head that his hand had been aiming for.
“One of these days I am going to figure out your voodoo shit, and how you know I am gonna smack you.” Zack muttered. Castello refused to let it
put him off his target. He wanted their info, and he wanted it stat. Zack would eventually figure out to watch Balas. Every time Zack went to smack Rafe, the dog stiffening against his knee told Rafe to duck. Although, if Zack hadn’t figured it out in the two years since Rafe and Balas joined the team he probably wasn’t going to at this stage.
