Man of the House: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

“This is Clutch,” Larkin said. They nodded back to me.

Nothing like the impending promise of death and violence to bring a group of men together. I couldn’t help but smirk to myself as I sat down next to Ford and signaled for the pledge behind the bar to bring me some coffee.

“Now that we’re all here,” Larkin said, “I’m going over the plan.”

The pledge put the coffee in front of me and I sipped it gratefully.

“It’s simple. We got word last night of an early morning exchange between the Mezcals and some local dealers. Apparently this is a pretty big one, with lots of money on the line.”

“Where’s it going down?” the man named Burke asked.

“Desert,” Larkin said. “Out off the highway. About a half hour from here.”

“How many guys?” Dow asked.

“We’re not sure. They’ll likely be pretty armed since there’s a lot of cash involved, so we need to be ready for some serious resistance.”

“We can handle that,” I grunted.

“This should be simple,” Larkin continued. “We know where it’s happening and when. We’ll roll up, kill the bastards, and take their shit. We’ll be back by breakfast much richer.”

The two big Rebels, Lavoy and Clinton, both laughed. Ford gave them a look but didn’t say anything. The two big idiots probably didn’t realize how seriously dangerous this mission was.

“That all we know?” I asked Larkin.

“That’s it.”

“What about the drop site?” Ford asked. “Any cover? Any way to ambush them?”

“No, nothing,” Larkin said. “They’re out in the flat desert.”

“So they’ll see us coming,” Burke said.

“Seems like a bad plan,” Noble grumbled.

“I’m open to suggestions,” Larkin said. “As it stands, we have the element of surprise. We can roll up on them fast and hit them before they really know what’s happening.”

“Not when they’ll see us coming for a mile,” I said.

“When is the drop happening?” Burke asked.

“An hour.”

“We better go then. If we can get there early, we won’t need to roll up on them.”

“What do you mean?” Dow asked.

“Something we did in the military,” Burke said, standing up and grinning. “Boys, what do you know about camouflage?”



I felt like I had dirt in my fucking mouth.

The sun was damn hot, even in the morning. I was covered in layers of dirt and plants, painted all over my body. My vest and clothes were caked with the shit, and I had to stay incredibly still.

We hauled ass as soon as Burke finished explaining the plan, and fortunately we got there before the Mezcals or their dealers could show up. Once there, Burke proceeded to cover us in mud and tumbleweed shit, caking it all over our bodies, and then placed us all around the area.

I couldn’t see shit from where I was except for a small patch of area just in front of me. This felt like a hugely stupid idea, just laying out in the fucking open like this, but it was too late for second-guessing.

I could hear the bikes coming in the distance.

All seven of us were covered in this shit and placed all around. We were supposed to lay motionless until Burke gave a whistle. Then we’d pop up and open fire.

It was a stupid plan, a dumb fucking plan, but it was probably better than the alternative. At least this was a plan. The other idea was just to roll up on them and try to kill them before they could kill us. At least this way we’d be surprising them.

The bikes were coming toward us, slowly but surely. I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were nearby and getting closer every minute. I breathed deeply to try to keep my heartrate still, and although the only thing I wanted was to jump up and start shooting, I knew that was a mistake. We needed to wait for everyone to arrive and then make our move together, or else we’d ruin the whole thing.

And I wasn’t going to lay on the ground covered in dirt for no fucking reason.

My anticipation was through the roof as the bikes got closer and closer. I kept myself steady, refusing to give in to my desire to get up and start blowing the fuckers away. After ten minutes, I could hear that the bikes were right on top of us.

Then suddenly they stopped getting closer. The bikes were idling, which meant I couldn’t hear a word the guys were saying. I couldn’t see them, either, since they weren’t in my line of sight. They were to my right, and I guessed there were at least five of them.

They were right fucking on top of us.

But nothing was happening. We kept waiting, probably waiting for the dealers to get there with the cash. The bikes just kept running and nothing happened. They didn’t find our guys, and none of us jumped up early.

Fifteen more minutes and then I heard the cars coming, not as loud as the bikes, but loud enough to announce themselves from a distance. I caught sight of these big black trucks, hauling up dust and shit as they tore across the desert.

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