Sinful Love (Sinful Nights #4)

“Yeah. I would really like that,” John said, his tone somehow casual but also intensely serious.

Michael’s eyes swept from John to the two men he was making this request of. Leaning against the back of a royal blue lounge chair, Curtis scratched his square jaw with his thumb, glancing at Charlie before answering. “So we’ve got to bring those fuckers back into our business?” he asked, arching an eyebrow skeptically as he waved a hand around the club, quiet now during the day. Jazz music hummed from the same speakers that played dance music after midnight.

John nodded. His arms were crossed. “I know it’s not what you want, but if we bring him in, and I’ve got the warrant for his arrest, we can take the gang apart. He’s the last linchpin left, now that we’ve got their head guy. One of my witnesses has named the places he’s been seen.”

Curtis shook his head. “This isn’t one of them.”

“No. But by using the guy who started trouble here a few weeks ago with the knife in the bathroom, we think we can lure him. That guy is willing to invite T.J. here. Make it look like just a regular night out. Once he’s here, you make the call and we’ll take him in.”

Charlie blew out a long stream of air. “I don’t like bringing them in here. We’ve been trying to keep guys like that out. I don’t want any guns in my club.”

“I hear you loud and clear,” John said. “But we’re close, so close to blasting them apart. We’ll have plainclothes cops here. They will be the only ones with weapons, besides my men and myself. We’ll do thorough checks at the door to make sure. And Michael’s team will ramp up security. We will keep your business safe.”

Charlie hummed and raised his chin at John. “I heard you talk at the benefit a few months ago.”

Michael’s ears pricked. He hadn’t attended that event, but both Ryan and Colin had. It was a fundraiser for the local community center where Colin volunteered. His girlfriend Elle ran it. Colin’s company was one of the main donors, and so was White Box. These guys were committed to cleaning up the city, and Michael hoped they’d take this chance, even if it put them at risk.

“You had a friend who was injured when you were younger,” Charlie said, meeting John’s eyes.

The detective nodded.

“I know what that’s like,” he said through tight lips. “I lost one of my brothers when I was younger. To street crime, too. That loss changed me. Led me to make some choices I wasn’t so proud of. Now, I’m trying to live a better life, in his name. He would have wanted this.”

Curtis nodded and patted Charlie’s shoulder. “He would have. He really would have.”

Charlie turned back to them. “We will help you.”

*

The waiting was miserable. Minutes ticked by as if they were hours. The days were elongated, like melting Dali clocks. Michael walked through town as if in a surreal dream. He was glued to his phone, and his phone was stuck to him. Just in case there was news. In case Morris, or Mindy, or John, or Ryan, or Annalise, or his White Box guys called.

Waiting sucked. Waiting was torture. But he understood this was the safest way to bring in T.J. The fucking mastermind of multiple hits had gotten away with so much, but with Luke now behind bars and facing a possible trial, and T.J.’s cousin arrested, and many of his guys on the streets locked up, too, the power structure of the Royal Sinners was cratering. They were caving in on themselves. T.J. was the last man standing, and once he was down, Michael would breathe again.

He was slated to fly to Paris in a few days, and he had half a mind to cancel the trip. But that was silly. He wasn’t the guy who’d make the arrest. He was simply the man waiting for justice. Justice would happen, one way or another, he was sure.

He went to the gym late one night, hoping a workout would burn off some of his tension. At the end of his weights session, his phone rang.

*

John was playing pinball when the call came. He’d just sent a silver ball screaming up the board and into the waiting maw of Jabba the Hut at his favorite game in the arcade hall not far from White Box. The phone trilled.

Mindy eyed his back pocket. It was their second date, and the first had gone exceedingly well. “Want me to grab it? So you don’t miss a ball?”

He nodded, his eyes focused on the game. Turned out she was a tenacious competitor. Turned out she kissed like she’d never wanted anyone so much before. He felt the same for her, and he sure as hell liked her hand in his back pocket, grabbing his phone.

“You might need to take this,” she said, her tone serious.

Immediately, he let go of the buttons, saw his colleague’s name flashing across the screen, and answered the call from his guy on site at the club. “He’s here.”

John wanted to punch the sky. “I’m on my way.”

“You want us to arrest him?”