Page 36 of One for the Money

Coronis:

Is that so?

Trent:

I did a little digging because she was too well-connected. They call her The Wolf, she’s an arms dealer who helped take down the five families. I’ve got a bad feeling about this, man.

Coronis:

I know who you’re talking about, it’s hard not to have heard her name before. Did you give anything?

Trent:

Same thing I gave to that bitch Serena to keep her from burning down my fucking bar. When I agreed to help you out, it was to keep shit like that from happening. Right now I feel like I’m holding up my end of the deal and taking the heat. When the fuck are you gonna pay up?

Coronis:

Now, now, Trent, let’s not get all worked up. Everything has changed now that my father and brothers are dead, leaving my cunt of a stepmother in charge. It takes time to build a new plan.

Trent:

I’m not one of your marks, boy. Fuck me over, and I swear to you everything I know about you two will end up in the hands of those who have been hunting you down. Six years of covering your ass is more than enough payment.

Coronis:

Threats only work if you’re alive to make them happen. Don’t force me to clean up loose ends.

Trent:

I said what I said, hold up your end of the deal or I’m going public. Better yet maybe I’ll reach out to The Wolf and tell her what I know.

Coronis:

Feel free to send her my way, dogs always end up loving me.

Not feeling the need to say anything more than that, I turned off the phone and dropped it into the pot of boiling water. I’d just been about to make dinner, but it seemed my plans needed to change. If Trent had been serious, I couldn’t risk that he wasn’t already working with someone to reveal my current location. Yes, my phone was encrypted, and any texts I used were sent through many dummy servers, yet the more skilled we got at avoiding detection, so did the people trying to hunt us down.

Turning the stove off, I sighed, looking around my apartment. I’d managed to make it six months this time before having to leave. Heading to my bedroom, I grabbed my leather suitcase and filled it with the things I valued most and couldn’t replace. The first lesson I’d learned long ago was not to get attached to physical things. They weighed you down and made it harder to leave at the drop of a hat. Even still, there were just some things I couldn’t let go of, no matter how hard I tried.

I started on the clothes next since I had time to properly pack. There was no way to know if I’d been found, but you either stay ahead of the danger or wind up dead. I rather liked being alive for the time being, so to keep on living, one must assume the worst. This had become so routine to me that I finished in no time at all. With both suitcases waiting by the door, I pulled on gloves and grabbed my plant mister. It was filled with a bleach solution, and I proceeded to spray down the entire apartment.

One major reason law enforcement hasn’t been able to pin down who I am or what jobs I’ve truly done is the lack of DNA. I know some thieves and other con artists who go to extremes to keep a single shred of DNA from being found. They’d shave their entire body and wash with bleach, remove fingerprints, wear gloves at all times, or even cover their homes in plastic. While I understood the logic behind all of this, my need for comfort and the finer things in life outweighed the risk.

Finished with covering my tracks, I grabbed my things and headed out. It would take me an hour to get to my secondary location, but it was late enough I wouldn’t be trapped in work traffic. Tossing my bags in the trunk, I slipped into my Maserati, taking a deep breath of that fresh new leather scent. Something about it always settled me, and I relaxed as I hit the button to start the engine.

Opening the glove box, I pulled out a small Faraday bag and removed the cell phone within it. This was the one phone I couldn’t lose, hence keeping it in a bag that prevented it from ever being found. Encased in the pouch, no signal of any kind could be transmitted in or out. So, if the number had been compromised, they wouldn’t be able to turn the phone on and track my location. The device powered up, and I gently stroked a finger over the image on the lock screen.

Only one person had the number to this phone, and it was because of her that I could never lose it. What if she finally called me? Sure, it’s been two years, and it hasn’t happened, but it could. There was no way she didn’t still think about me. Our connection was one blessed by the gods. The ropes of fate brought us together, and while she might not be willing to admit it now, fate has a way of getting what it wants—and so do I.

After the conversation with Hound, my brain was full of new information that cleared many things up but still left me with some big questions. We all agreed that The Lady was probably Selena and that she’d been using her status as Gian Accardi’s wife to make her stake in the criminal world. Of course, the good old boys would never even consider their wives were capable of such things. No, women can’t be smart enough to handle anything more than keeping house and having babies. Yeah… guess that’s why you never saw the end coming until it was too late.

The energy I’d had starting the day was gone, and my headache wouldn’t let up. So I decided to call it a day, pop some pain meds, and hunker down in the comforting darkness of the movie room. Bear didn’t join me which was odd, saying he needed to deal with something first. I shrugged and started to get my popcorn cooking, trying not to grin since I wouldn’t have to share it with him. This meant I could douse the popcorn in the ranch powder and not be forced to listen to him grumble every time he put a kernel in his mouth.

Bear wrapped a hand around my throat and used his thumb to turn my head. Before I could even open my mouth, his lips crashed against mine. He took his time devouring me in his own way that had my pussy clenching. More than happy to get in a quickie, I reached for his pants, but he pulled back.

“No,” he said, releasing his hold. “You need to rest. You’re still recovering, and yesterday was too much.”

“Speak for yourself,” I shot back. “I know what I can handle, Bear. In fact, a quickie would be the perfect thing to take my mind off my headache.”