Page 67 of Choices
“Is there something on my face?” he asks, glaring at me.
“Not yet, asshole,” I bite out.
“You got a problem with me?” Squaring his shoulders, he takes a step toward me.
Brave man.
Yes, motherfucker, I have a problem with you.
My hands fist, a spark of fury coursing through my veins, then Kitty’s image bursts into my mind. Her small, weeping frame huddled on the floor, clutching the glass in her hands. I did that to her, and if I fuck up this dick, it will probably only hurt her more.
“What’s with the fish?” Monster asks, slicing through the tension, drawing our attention to him. He’s picking dirt from his fingernails with a six-inch blade while leaning casually against a tree trunk. “The goldfish you got, Kitty,” he clarifies.
Three sets of eyes all home in on me.
I crack my neck, releasing an exasperated exhale. “Rocco knocked over her other one. I was just replacing it.”She was replacing me.
Checking my watch, I change the focus. “The fucker is late.”
“He’s legit. Let’s give him five more minutes,” Dodger pipes in, kicking his boot through a gathering of leaves. Usually, we’d hang on to the stock and sell it to the highest bidder, but Pres wants it gone yesterday—before word spreads about Jennings being missing and it becomes a criminal case.
Headlights cut through the darkness, and the rumble of an engine shatters the desolate street, roaring toward us.
“That him?” Monster asks, looking to Dodger for confirmation.
“Yep.”
About time.
The light blue convertible pulls up at the curb next to my bike. A heavyset guy steps out in a bright flowery shirt open at the collar, shorts, and a pair of sandals. His full beard could rival Monster’s. Popping the trunk without saying a word, he pulls out a sports bag. All hands go to our weapons, making him chuckle a thick, throaty sound.
“You want to count?” he asks, raising a bushy black eyebrow.
“We trust you, Eddie.” Dodger walks over, takes the bag, and drops the keys in his hand.
“Good.” He nods to each of us then heads toward the van loaded with the crates we took from Jennings warehouse.
“What about your car?” I call after him.
“It’s not mine.” His chortle rings through the dead airspace.
“I like him,” Monster announces, tapping his knife on Dodger’s chest. “But if the money is short and I have to hunt him down to take body parts, I’m starting with one of yours.”
“It’s all here. Trust me. Eddie doesn’t fuck around.”
“How the hell do you know him?” I ask, watching Dodger secure the payout in the lockbox in the back of the truck.
Flashing me a row of stained teeth, he quips, “He’s in the porn business.”
“Why would a porn guy need guns?” Wheels scoffs, speaking my thoughts.
“It’s a dangerous business. Competitive.” Dodger shrugs. “You want to see the pussy he gets to fuck, though.” Closing his eyes, he tips his head to the sky and blows out a kiss. “Grade A.”
“We have very different standards of pussy.” I walk over to the truck door and lean against the window after he climbs inside.
Monster takes the passenger seat and knits his brow. “Is that the guy who ordered those dildos of my cock?”
The image of the purple dildo Kit keeps for shits and giggles after Monster gifted all the women one at the club springs to mind, and I shudder.
