Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67039 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“All right.” Z pushes off the wall, heading for the side door. If Mr. Woods thinks we’d come in the front door, he isn’t the brightest, but that much is clear already. He lets his son sport a badge and abuse it. Not even in a functional manner. It’s rather wasteful. But he might know his son isn’t the brightest and knew he’d be more trouble than he’s worth.
Z makes quick work of the lock. “I love that everything is digital these days.” He smirks, pulling the door open for us.
We slip in, taking the stairs up the four flights. When we exit the stairs, a woman with thick glasses pops up from behind her desk. They don’t cover the wide-eyed expression that takes over her face.
“Martha,” I greet her. I’d gone over the building's floor plan along with the staff on Mr. Woods' primary floor, which happens to be at the top. He has the only office on this floor. The others are conference rooms.
“Can I, ah, help you?”
“Did Woods not inform you of our meeting?”
She rapidly shakes her head. “He didn’t say he had a meeting.”
“Why don’t you take your lunch break?”
“I can’t—”
“It wasn’t a question.”
“Right.” Martha opens the bottom drawer of her desk, grabbing her purse.
“Martha,” I call when she goes to pass by me. She pauses, looking up at me. “Congratulations on your new grandson.” The color immediately drains from her face. I hold my hand out to Z; he hands me the envelope filled with cash. I pass it over to her.
“New life should be celebrated,” Z says to her.
“Yes.” She nods in agreement.
“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off? Go spend time with baby Mikey. Buy him something nice,” Z adds.
“Thank you,” she says in a quick, relieved breath. “He brought two men in with him who appear to be bodyguards.” I give her a nod, and she hurries off. I already knew that little fact.
We make our way farther down the hallway to Ethan Woods' office. I push open the double frosted glass doors, letting myself in. Ethan stands from behind his desk.
“Mrs. Noals didn’t inform me of your arrival.”
“Martha took her lunch break early.”
Ethan audibly swallows, glancing at the two men in suits. You can tell they both have guns holstered under their suit jackets.
“Don’t pay attention to them. You need to worry about me.” I step farther into his office, walking over to one of the bookcases. I pick up the picture of him and his wife. “How is Kim doing?”
“She’s fine,” he responds, pulling at the collar of his shirt. Ethan has a very bad poker face.
“Then she must not know about your visits to Bourbon Street. I know my wife wouldn’t take too kindly to that.” I set the picture frame back down. “Or maybe Kim rather not.”
From what I read about her, Kim is purely in it for the money and high-end cocaine she needs to function every day. Their family really is a pillar of this community.
“She—”
“It doesn’t matter, I suppose. Your membership was revoked along with your son's.” I make a show of glancing around his office. “And where is your son?”
“He’s on his way.”
“Is that true?” I turn my attention to one of the men.
“I’m not sure, sir. He was here earlier, but I haven’t seen him in an hour or so.”
“Wait outside,” I tell them.
“What? I hired them. They work for me.” The men ignore him, exiting the office.
“No one works for you while you’re in my city,” I remind him. I think Ethan is going to need a lot of reminders. “Now, where is your son?” He starts to speak, and I motion for him to stop. “Know that I’m not in the mood for games.”
I thought I was on edge before, but not knowing where this little shit is has amped it.
"Do we really need him for this?"
"You want to do this the hard way?"
"No, no." He puts his hands up, stepping back, but there is nowhere to go, so he falls back into his chair.
My phone goes off in my pocket. The alert is loud. I'd set my phone on silent but have the vibrate on. I reach into my pocket to pull it out. Z's and Ronan's phones start to go off too with the same alert sound. We all glance at each other, pulling out our phones to answer.
“That’s not happening.” It is said over the line. I know who it is instantly. I’ve been hearing it come from the library for the last few weeks. It’s Marks. Z’s and my eyes lock, letting me know he’s aware of who the voice is.
“Oh my God.” Every cell in my body goes on alert when I hear my wife’s voice. They’re together.
Get Brian on the line, I mouth to Ronan, who nods.