Carlos was the first to reach him, waving a small plastic bag like a flag. “Look at these!” Carlos said. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”
“Is this the crystallized coke?” Adam asked, snatching the bag and holding it to the sunlight. “Is it any good?”
Now having caught up, Mercedes lingered next to Paul while Dan sank himself into a camper chair and pushed his sunglasses over his face.
“I can personally attest that it is fucking top notch shit,” Dan smiled, clearly baked and out of his mind. He retrieved another bag from God knows where, his hands jittering as he attempted to light it.
“Fucking hell.” Carlos knocked the lighter from Dan’s hand. “Don’t have more so quickly, you moron.”
“Well, the focus group seems to like it,” Adam said, frowning in mild concern for Dan. He couldn’t judge his friends for their vices though. After all, Adam’s idea of a good time wasmurder, so… “Can we get it on the street?”
“I think we need richer clientele for this one. If we really want to make a splash,” Carlos said.
Adam grinned wickedly while Paul sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Oh, Carlos. He’d just walked right where Adam wanted him, and Paul knew it.
“Richer clientele?” Adam said.
“No.” Paul rushed forward. “Don’t even–”
“Like clientele that could be found in, I don’t know, maybe Blake’s white book?”
Carlos seemed to catch up, dropping his face into a scowl. “I’ve missed something here. What’s got this idiot trying to plan another suicide heist?”
“Hey,” Adam said, aiming to defend himself, but somehow even he knew he was coming across more arrogant than usual. “The white book would be an undeniable advantage.”
“Fuck, I swear.” Paul pinched the bridge of his nose. “It’s like you’re actually trying to poke Blake with a stick.”
“Come on, can we just accept that–” Adam began.
“No,” Paul said. “We can’t afford–”
“We don’t have a choice,” Mercedes interjected. “The situation is progressing faster than we can keep up with.”
“What does that mean?” Dan asked, somehow sitting upright—even in his condition—and pushing his sunglasses into his curls.
Adam frowned, looking to Mercedes for support. “Fine, fine,” Adam said. “We have some pretty good intel that Blake suspects someone is after him.”
Dan, Paul, and Carlos all looked to Mercedes. Her word was golden if they couldn’t trust that he was doing it for the right reasons.Because he wasn’t.Fuck! Yes, he was, okay,he was. It was for the greater good of the group. Not his own reckless entertainment.
“He doesn’t know who,” Mercedes said. “Yet.”
Adam wouldn’t dare leave that hanging out there long. “We’ve had our timeline cut in half, so we have to keep moving. We can’t afford to slow down.”
“We need that white book,” Mercedes agreed. “Antonio keeps a key to the office, and there’s a party at the club next week that he’ll be at. I can distract him. Adam can make the pick.”
Fuck yeah, he could make the pick—wait, what? Him? In the open?
Adam held his jaw in his hands. “That will be out in the open, though.”
“I know, it’s risky,” she said. “But only you can make this pick.”
Fuck if that didn’t make his trousers tight.
“You don’t have to convince me, baby.” He folded his arms and smiled wide, nodding at his friends. But it was them she needed to convince.
Turning her back on him to face their friends, Adam’s heart grew three sizes when she stepped back into him, flushing her back with his front. Perhaps just a show of solidarity that would convince the team, but it still did special things to his gut. That was how they were always meant to be. Partners in crime. If only she’d acknowledge that.
He had his friends’ full attention now.
