“Mercedes didn’t take you as her backup to see Tia, huh?” Carlos said, following closely behind and puffing cigarette smoke into the sky.
Adam frowned. “Nope. No skin off my back.”
Carlos shot him a knowing look. Dan sauntered behind them, dropping his forehead onto the metal railing and groaning. He didn’t take well to mornings. Or being sober.
Adam rubbed his chin while he waited for the shipment to arrive. It was only meant to be small, so he relaxed his shoulders and cracked his neck, looking forward to a simple steal.
It had started off with stealing the shipment from Blake’s yacht. Then another from his underground garage. Then another from the beach. So on and so forth. Until they’d made a reckless habit of stealing from Dorian Blake, all while staying under the radar.
It wasn’t that it was hard to steal from him per se. Just that most wouldn’t, knowing the consequences and the high price of doing so. Thing was, for Adam, he’d already paid it.
Two Blake goons were standing under the bridge, failing to be inconspicuous. It was like they’d given up all pretense trying to be discreet. Now that Blake’s sticky fingers were in every cop’s pocket, there was no need.
“What time are you due back at the club?” Adam asked Carlos as he knew he made a morning delivery every day at the Neptune Club.
“Not until nine,” Carlos said, checking his watch. Since the sun was only starting to rise, it couldn’t have been any later than six. Plenty of time.
Though Carlos dropped the line of questioning, it still lingered in his head, eating him alive. Shecouldn’thave taken him to see Tia. He was supposed to be dead. Logically, he knew that was sound, but his heart was a stupid little fuck that couldn’t see sense, apparently.
Under the bridge a single purple Camaro pulled up to the site. Nice car. Far too expensive to be running a low-level deal, but whatever.
“About fucking time,” Dan said, scraping his drool-ridden cheek off the railing. “It’s way too early in the morning to be getting up.”
“Dude, you haven’t even been to bed yet,” Adam said.
“So?”
“Well, you have to have actually gotten up to complain about getting up early,” Carlos said, laughing as he tossed his cigarette into the river.
Three guys got out of the back of the Camaro, like a clown car, and from the vantage point on the bridge, Adam could see it was stuffed full of drugs. Curiously, though, the driver and passenger of the vehicle stayed put.
“Take the shot,” Adam said, yawning and almost bored by the ease of it.
Doing as he was told, Dan pulled a remote from his back pocket. He had a brain for explosives, and loved to see shit burn, so he’d rigged up a small explosive device that would knock the enemies off their feet just long enough for a steal.
“Something’s not right...” Dan said, repeatedly pressing the button on the remote to detonate, but nothing was happening.
“Blocker or something?” Carlos queried.
“Probably nothing,” Adam said. “But if you want something done right...”
He made for the meeting when Carlos clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Stay here, let us check it out. And maybe put your mask on. Safety first and all that.”
Honestly, Adam thought it was a bit excessive, but he complied nonetheless, placing a ski mask over his face before Dan and Carlos did the same. Making quick work across the bridge, they walked toward the parking lot and jumped the few feet from the bridge into its sunken hole where the deal was taking place.
Adam watched them make quick work of the three guys from the Camaro and the other two who had shown up to take the deal. It looked like they had it in the bag. But the driver still hadn’t gotten out of the car, and that had Adam’s back up. He narrowed his eyes.
Dan and Carlos approached the Camaro. Out of nowhere, five more dark gray cars roared in to form a circle around them, trapping them in and completely blocking the view of the drug-filled Camaro.
Adam’s jaw tensed. But he was more annoyed than afraid.
It was a fucking setup.
A nice easy setup wrapped in a little bow, and Adam had let them walk right into it.
Finally, the driver poked his head out of the window. A cold settled over Adam’s spine. Fucking T.B.
T.B. smiled, mouthing off like he was making some sort of witty remark—knowing him, probably not—before getting back inside the car and revving the engine in a taunt.
