“I know one.” Roxanne shrugs, making us all look at her in surprise. She snorts. “I own a dive bar, remember? I know nearly every criminal in the city, plus they all like to keep me happy so I’ll keep the alcohol flowing. It’s the one place they don’t have to worry about being arrested.”
“You know a forger? One good enough to make papers for a would-be illegal assassin?” I question, arching my eyebrow.
“Yes, asshole. I was going to tell you, but now I don’t think I will,” she snaps, making D laugh, and even Garrett smirks.
“Fine, I’m sorry, Roxxane. That was rude.” I sigh, forcing the words out through clenched teeth.
She grins, and I warn her with my eyes not to push it. “Okay, yes, I know someone like that. He’s a regular, sometimes picks up clients in my bar. I’ve overheard him before, and he’s highly recommended. I’ll tell you…on one condition.”
“Which is?” I drawl.
“You take me with you,” she states seriously.
“No,” I bark, but that wasn’t what I was expecting. I was thinking money, jewels, clothes, anything. She constantly surprises me.
“Then you don’t get the name. He wouldn’t talk to you anyway without me there. You might be the fearsome Vipers, but he’s beyond that. He’s all about who you know, and you? You don’t know him.” She grins, knowing she has me.
“Why? Why do you want to go?” I inquire earnestly. If it’s to escape, I can’t do that. I would have to punish her then, and I honestly want to stay as far away from her as I can, since she already tests my control. Laying hands on her again would be a mistake.
“I’m bored in this fucking apartment. At least that way I get to do something,” she reasons, as she takes a bite of her omelette and groans. “This is fucking good.”
“Come on, Ry, what’s the worst that can happen?” Kenzo laughs. “We’ll all go, that way she can’t try and escape or anything. You said we need this guy, guess that’s how we get him.”
Balling my fists, I count backwards in my head, trying to rein in my control. I hate rushed plans, I hate it when an unexpected, unpredictable element is thrown in.
And Roxxane? She’s unpredictable.
“I’ve reached out to the Triad, and I’m waiting for an answer. The other families deny all knowledge of the hit,” I snarl.
“Then it’s them.” Diesel nods seriously. “Let’s go kill them.”
“Wait, it might not be. We don’t exactly have a short list of enemies, and making a move now, hitting them, would be a mistake. We’re not prepared, and if we can keep them on our side, then we need to do it. Another will only pop up in their place, and I’d rather deal with the devil we know than the one we don’t.”
We’re waiting for Roxxane to get dressed, she seemed excited. I guess being locked up in a penthouse, even with all the luxuries, is not her thing. She wants adventure, she wants stimulation. I can understand that, but it doesn’t mean I’m happy to let her come with us. But if that’s the only way we can get to the forger, I would be a fool to ignore that advantage.
“He’s right—we wait and see, they aren’t going anywhere. Let’s deal with this assassin first.” Garrett nods, the voice of reason among the chaos.
“Okay, oh, we should check on Roxy’s bar,” Diesel adds.
Sighing. I look towards the hallway to make sure she isn’t spying. “I already did. There’s a new bartender, someone we trust. He’s opening and closing it, keeping an eye on it for her, making sure it doesn’t get destroyed. All the money is being dropped into her account.”
Kenzo whistles, a smirk on his lips. “Guess that means you see her as more than a debt.”
“It was a simple thing, not much work, and I thought it might make her less likely to attack us.”
“Uh-oh,” he says. “Sure, tell yourself that, big brother, if it helps you sleep.”
I narrow my eyes but don’t answer as Roxxane comes down the hallway. My mouth drops open slightly. Fuck, why did I buy her new clothes? I shouldn’t have bought any, then she would have to walk around naked.
The dress is a black one Garett picked out, and it’s skintight, showing off all her curves with her sexy as hell tattoos peeking through. The jacket is something that one of the guys must have snuck in. It’s leather and has spikes across the shoulders, and when she turns slightly, I notice the viper on the back—smooth.
She looks hot as hell and dangerous, especially with the purple lipstick and dark makeup around her eyes—makeup I picked out. Her hair is in loose waves, and honestly, I’m speechless. She always looks beautiful, but today?
Today she looks like a Viper.
I glance at the others just in time to see Diesel leaning back on his chair, craning his neck to try and get a look at her ass. But he tips too far and goes flying with a yelp. She looks over at the crash, noticing him on the floor, and smirks. “Falling for me already, D?”
D.
She called him D.
Jealousy pours through me. She uses his nickname? I expected her to be terrified of him. We kept warning her away, but here she is, looking at him in amusement and calling him D. Standing, I draw her attention to me, trying to ignore my own foolish feelings. “Good, let’s go,” I order, beginning to stride away.
I stop next to her, lowering my head, unable to help myself. “You look good enough to eat.”
She blinks in shock as I walk off, checking my weapons at the door as I wait for the others. She looks around at us, checking our guns and knives, and doesn’t seem surprised as she tracks where we holster them. “Can I have my gun?”
“No,” I almost snarl. “You don’t need it, we’ll look after you.”
“Can I have my bat? I promise not to use it on Garrett’s junk again,” she offers sweetly, making him snort.
“No,” he replies.
She sighs dramatically but then smiles. “One sec.” With that, she dashes off to her room before coming back a minute later, tossing a knife in the air.
Where the hell did she get that?
Diesel laughs. “That’s my girl. Come on, Little Bird, it’s time to play.” He drapes his arm across her shoulders as she tucks it into her jacket pocket and looks to me. I can’t move, though, too busy staring at them—at how close their bodies are, at how comfortable they seem.
It’s worse than I thought.
What am I going to do? Nothing for now, we have other things to deal with, but I need to make a decision later on—before Roxxane gets in too deep and has the power to crumble all we have worked for.
“Let’s go.” Ripping open the door, I stomp away, aware I’m acting irrational, so I push all those emotions down, using the time we wait for the elevator to become cold again, wrapping a layer of unfeeling ice across me. When the ding sounds and the doors open, I’m me again.
Since my car was wrecked and I’m waiting on a replacement, I decide to take the SUV. We can all fit. Garrett climbs into the driver’s seat while I get in the passenger side. Kenzo and Diesel slide in and trap Roxxane into the middle seat, not that she seems to mind. She relaxes back, but threatens to stab Kenzo if he touches her thigh again.
He only laughs. Sometimes, others wonder how Kenzo fits with us, while I don’t—he hides his crazy well.
“Where to?” Garrett asks in general, not looking at Roxxane, so I peer over my shoulder at her.
“Head south, go past the theater area and into the slums. Stop us at Deckly Bridge, you can’t miss it. There’s graffiti all over the side right next to an abandoned steel mill,” she explains.
Turning forward, I pull out my phone, ignoring them all as I catch up on emails and messages. I could have our guards meet us at the location, but with all four of us, there’s no point. Roxxane must be thinking along the same line. “Do you four have bodyguards? You’re worth a lot of money, right?”
“We have security,” I murmur distractedly. “Over seventy-five personal, spread across the city, our assets, and homes. We instructed them not to let you see them. Usually, they would be coming with us, but when all four of us go out, these three act as security. No one knows they are in charge, since I’m the face of the operation, so it makes sense I would bring security.”
“Why act like security?” she inquires.
“That way, only Ryder has to worry about being the main target. They don’t care about us, we’re just fodder. Means we hear more as well,” Kenzo answers.
“Wow, doesn’t that make you worry about having a target on your back all the time?” she asks, leaning forward as we pull from the underground parking structure.
“No, it’s my job,” I reply, thumbing out a response to an email before pocketing my phone. “Sit back, seatbelt on,” I order.
“So, this man we’re going to see?” Kenzo starts.
“Just let me do the talking, okay? He hates outsiders and is a rude bastard.”
“Even to you?” he questions.
“Especially to me. It’s his way of showing he likes you. Plus, if you haven’t noticed, I’m a rude bitch. We get along famously.” She laughs.
“Want me to kill him?” Diesel queries cheerfully.