Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
He's not the type of man who would change. Certain groups in prison would welcome this man with open arms, many of them raising him to power in the criminal justice system, just because he's brave enough to put his beliefs into action, something a lot of them are scared to do. It has nothing to do with those kinds of folks doubting that the way they feel and how they believe is wrong. It’s more because they're afraid of retaliation from the groups they despise. With a man like Bobby at the helm, they're braver, able to act the way they want, all with a false understanding that Bobby will have their backs. In all truthfulness, Bobby would probably sacrifice every single one of them to save his own ass, and that's a huge concern for us in our evaluation on how to play the final takedown of this group.
"I sure as fuck hope you have good news for me," the man says, pinching the bridge of his nose one final time before opening his eyes and looking up at us.
Zayne points to a chair, silently asking permission to have a seat, and I feel a little hint of satisfaction in the way he glances at me in annoyance but keeps his fucking mouth shut before nodding to my partner.
The man isn't as brave and aggressive in his demand for respect when he's alone, and that will work in our favor.
It also proves that he may be smarter than I've given him credit for.
Yeah, he could rip my ass for not asking, but on the off chance that I'll get up and return his frustration in a way that would cause him pain, it keeps his mouth shut. He knows the other men would retaliate for him, but he also knows it won't happen before he sheds blood.
Maybe that makes him a pussy, rather than intelligent.
Either way, it gives me back a little piece of myself that this fucking place has already chipped away.
"We found a place," Zayne says with a hint of doubt in his voice after he takes a seat.
"Yet, you don't sound like you think it's the best place," Bobby challenges.
Zayne pulls in a deep breath, letting his cheeks puff on the exhale before speaking again.
My partner holds his hands up at his ears as if surrendering and giving this man all the power.
"I'm afraid you may not like it."
"It doesn't have to have five-star accommodations," Bobby says.
"Well," Zayne begins.
"Can you just get on with it?" Bobby growls. "Fuck, why does everyone want to test my patience today?"
I lean forward in my chair, glaring at the man.
He doesn't cower this time, and knowing he has somehow found a little courage in the last few breaths makes me want to prove to him why he should always be afraid of me, but once again, that doesn't advance our mission.
"He doesn't want to upset you," I say, my voice low, a whisper of warning in it. "For some reason, my cousin wants to impress you."
Bobby looks from me back to Zayne before planting his eyes back on me.
"Go on," he urges with a small wave of his hand. "Impress me."
"We—" Zayne begins, but his mouth snaps closed when Bobby holds up his hand.
"I want to hear it from him," he demands.
I know I haven't impressed him in any way, but maybe making me explain what we found is his way of placing the blame on me, not on Zayne, who is meant to play the guy who kisses his ass and is willing to do all his bidding.
"The house we found is fucking fine if you're using it to sell dope, but if it's to process new friends or introduce clients to these new friends, then it won't work. The floor plan only includes one bedroom and one bathroom, and the rest of the house has a severe open floor plan," I explain. "Lots of room for junkies, but less privacy than I think you'd like if you had other intentions with the property."
"We can keep looking if you want us to," Zayne urges when Bobby is silent for a long moment, suggesting that the house might not suit his needs and that he's trying to figure out how to handle his disappointment.
"It sounds perfect," Bobby answers. "No need to keep looking."
With my hands in my lap, I squeeze my fists tight once again, the pain it causes radiating up my arms.
Using it as a trap house doesn't get us any closer to helping the women here, and the disappointment I feel knowing this case will continue to eat at me from the inside out.
I knew taking this job, infiltrating this group, would take time. Why I let myself hope we could take these bastards down in less than a week, I don't know.