Page 45 of One for the Money

Bear tried to muffle his laughter by coughing into his hand, but he wasn’t fooling anyone. “You know you just admitted it’s happened before, right? Because that’s the only way someone could learn something so nuanced.”

“So, it doesn’t mean it was me,” I shot back. “Pretty sure it was you after eating the giant-ass burrito.”

He took a step closer so he towered over me as he rested a hand on the edge of the plane’s doorway. “Correction, we both ate a burrito.” Playfully, he flicked the tip of my nose, making me sneeze and almost fall back into the plane’s metal frame.

Both men instantly lurched forward. Bear grabbed my arm, and Erik’s arm shot out to create a barrier between the metal and me. Thanks to Bear, who halted my tumble, he then yanked me forward, and I face-planted on his abs instead.

“Ooph,” I grunted, pushing myself off his rock-hard body. “Dammit, Bear, I think your six-pack did more damage than the plane would have.”

“Fine then, next time I’ll just let you fall on your ass,” Bear said with a shrug.

Erik cleared his throat and raised a hand, drawing our attention. “Just to make you aware of your safety options, right now, I’m only rockin’ a four-pack, so I’ve got a little more squish should you need a softer landing.”

I opened my mouth to respond but instead closed it, shook my head, and signaled Bear to get in the damn plane. It was becoming clear that Erik was feeling far more comfortable around us, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Part of me was disappointed at how easy it had been to sway him, but on the other hand, he’d never truly been the good little sheep he was pretending to be. Either way, it didn’t matter. For the time being, it was safer to keep him close as we watched how things were unfolding.

Pulling the hull door closed, I latched it and settled on my headset. With a few toggles and buttons later, the plane was rolling down the runway. Once the all-clear was given, I grinned. The takeoff was one of my favorite parts of flying. In many ways, it felt like running as fast as you could toward a cliff then throwing yourself off the edge and praying you knew what you were doing.

“Wooo,” I shouted as we began our climb into the night sky. There would never be a more freeing feeling than knowing you were thousands of feet off the ground and leaving all the worries of the world below.

It took a little over an hour to arrive at our destination in Hasnad. I’d reached out to one of my contacts in Varpas before taking off, telling him we needed a car to come pick us up. Since we didn’t have any luggage, it took no time to get the plane stored and head out through the terminal.

This airport was much bigger than the one we’d flown out of. Two large private jet charter companies worked out of this location instead of the more commonly used by local hobbyists. The higher volume of traffic is specifically why I chose this one to land at tonight. It would be much harder for anyone to notice the odd hour of our arrival. Rich people wanted to come and go when they pleased, meaning a flight landing at two-thirty in the morning wasn’t noteworthy.

Pulling out my phone, I checked my messages and got the details of what car to look for. Erik stood next to me, yawning loudly from the depths of his hoodie. I made sure he covered up his hair—the last thing we needed was to have someone notice him. With the quick search we did, there was no way to know how widespread this story was. One would think it wouldn’t pass into another country, but Hasnad’s border was reasonably close, so it was possible.

“There,” I pointed to the black SUV with a red snake painted on the hood. “That’s our ride.”

“Ah… Von, you know that’s the symbol for the Red Vipers gang, right?” Erik whispered.

Clapping him on the shoulder, I gave him a wide smile and headed toward the vehicle. Maybe Erik wasn’t as well adjusted to the situation as he was pretending to be. It was oddly reassuring to see him unsettled by the knowledge I might be connected to such a renowned violent gang.

The Red Vipers had a choke hold on Varpas, the second-largest city in Hasnad. Any drug found within Varpas could be traced back to the Vipers, and they did whatever it took to keep it that way. Their leader, Mamba, had approached me about doing business with each other. He needed weapons to ensure his drug empire was safe, and I got a steady customer who always paid upfront. Mamba might also have had the biggest hard-on for me, but I didn’t mix sex and business—it never ended well for them.

When we reached the SUV, a man jumped out of the front passenger seat and opened the door for me. He tried to offer his hand to assist me since the damn thing had been lifted to the point anyone would need a ladder. Bear grabbed the back of the grunt’s coat and yanked him away from me before tossing the man across the sidewalk, where he crashed into the garbage.

The meaning wasn’t lost on me, and I just looked up at Bear with a raised brow. “Really?”

“Get in the car, Von,” Bear instructed, ignoring my real question.

Honestly, I should have known better than to comment—this was something he’d never change his mind about. Since day one, unless they were the person in charge, anyone who dared to touch me was promptly removed or disposed of by Bear. Breaking the glaring contest between the two of us, Erik stepped up behind me, grabbed my hips, and hoisted me up so I could take the handle to pull myself into the SUV. The interior had been redone so the seating was more like a limo, giving the passengers more space and the ability to face each other. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to the laser show going on inside and to realize someone was seated on the back bench.

“If it isn’t my favorite lethal beauty,” Mamba greeted, his voice low and slightly raspy.

He held his hand out in an attempt to get me to sit next to him. While I like Mamba well enough, the man didn’t know how to deal with a woman using the word ‘no.’ There were more than a few times, my blade or gun had to be brought into the equation for him to grasp how serious I was being. It had been a year since we’d last seen each other face-to-face, and I had hoped we’d get past this issue. I guess that was me being far too optimistic.

“Mamba, think we can kill the light show. It’s been a hell of a day,” I asked, taking a seat diagonally from him.

Bear climbed up next and promptly settled himself next to Mamba, leaving Erik to slide in beside me. Finally, the lights stopped flashing and shifted into a steady red glow that illuminated the car. Mamba refused to take his focus off me, letting his eyes drift over my body with a pleased expression. Reaching deep, deep down, I managed to find the will not to roll my eyes and offer some snarky quip. Right now, I needed this man’s help and influence, which I wouldn’t get if I pissed him off right out of the gate.

“Tell me your troubles, Wolfie. I might be able to help,” Mamba offered. He raised a cigar to his lips and filled the space with its rich scent.

One thing I’d learned right away with Mamba is that he wanted to be seen as the hero, even though he was really the villain. In his mind, everything he did was for the betterment of those around him. Probably because of the massive fucking chip on his shoulder, having a mother who was viewed as the reincarnation of Mother Teresa while he was seen as the devil. He’d come from wealth but liked to pretend he knew the struggles of the little people, even if it was the furthest thing from the truth. No one could look that comfortable in a five-thousand-dollar suit unless they’d grown up wearing that kind of money.

“Have you heard anything about a mysterious car bomb going off on a random country road or maybe something about a missing veterinarian?” I questioned. If anyone would be keeping an eye on trouble that might have the possibility to encroach on his turf, it would be Mamba.

His well-groomed eyebrows knit together as he frowned in concentration. For a man, he took pride in keeping up with his appearance. Once he told me he hoped people would believe he had stopped aging altogether and would live for eternity. It helped that he was blessed with genetics that gave him a leg up on having naturally smooth, even skin. Like a woman, he used his elegant features to lull people into believing he wasn’t as big of a threat as he was. Yet, like all things that flaunt their beauty, it was to distract from something deadly.

“A missing what?” Mamba asked.