Chapter Eighty-Six
Blade
F uck.
The first goddamn time I sleep with a woman, actually fucking sleep after I owned that tight cunt, and she fucking walked out on me.
FUCK.
I grabbed my cell and dialed as I yanked on a T-shirt.
That fucking prick lawyer answered on the first ring. “Blade. Is she coming down?”
“Yeah. I want to know where the fuck you take her the second you fucking take her there.”
The asshole exhaled. “Client confidentiality, Emrik. You know I can’t do that unless she gives me permission.”
“Then fucking get permission.” I hung up and dialed November.
The hacker answered with his usual monotone. “Blade.”
“You got eyes on Barrett’s rental?”
“Not presently, but I can. One moment.” Typing filled the background. “He’s at your hotel.”
“Follow him. Tell me where he goes.”
“Copy. Where are you going to be?”
“Picking up a fucking rental.” Then going after her.
“No need. Hold.” The line went quiet.
I laced up the new boots, then grabbed my Sig and checked the magazine.
November came back on the line. “A black Tahoe will be at the rear entrance to the hotel in fifteen minutes.”
“Copy. What’s Barrett’s plan for returning to Miami? Is AES flying him?” I’d asked November to get him here before I’d flown back to Montana to pick her up. I knew there’d be legal tape she’d have to cut through to get her house back.
“Victor and Romeo are picking him up on their way back from Teterboro.”
Christ. She was gonna get on that fucking plane with the attorney. “What time?”
“They’ll be on the ground at YIP at twelve hundred.”
I glanced at my watch. Still had time. “Copy.”
The hacker didn’t say shit, and he didn’t hang up.
“Spit it out,” I demanded.
“Are you going to be on that flight?”
He meant was I back on the fucking roster. “I’ll let you know when I’m taking assignments again.”
“That’s not why I asked.”
Fucking Christ. “Not having this conversation. Tell me where the fuck Barrett goes between now and noon.”
“You could track Barrett yourself.”
I could also fucking track the cell I gave her, but I wasn’t falling down that goddamn rabbit hole. I’d meant what I said. I was done tracking Church. I was done playing fucking hacker. I was done with the bullshit, period. Alpha needed me to shoot assholes, I’d pull the trigger. Otherwise, I wanted to be on my land.
I also wanted a five-foot-nothing brunette with a fucking mouth on her to be there with me, but she’d taken that sweet ass and walked the fuck out.
Didn’t blame the woman.
But I wasn’t walking.
Not yet.
“Send the sweep team to clear this room, then text me updates.” I hung up on November and was grabbing my jacket when my burner rang.
Glancing at the screen, I silently cursed.
No caller ID.
I swiped. “What?”
“Glad you cleared the woman. I have another job for you,” the anonymous motherfucker replied.
One statement, and it took less than half a second to confirm my suspicions. This asshole, whoever he was, had redirected the brunette’s texts to me. After last night, I no longer gave a fuck why—as long as he stayed away from the woman. As for Church, whether or not he had intel on him, it didn’t matter. If Church was dead, nothing changed. If Church was alive and working for this motherfucker, I wanted no part of it.
“Already had this conversation. We’re done.” Fuck him. “You don’t mention the brunette. You don’t dangle Church intel. And you sure as fuck don’t call me for a job. I’m not your fucking trigger, Phoenix.” I gave him two seconds to react to what I called him.
He didn’t.
I hung up, removed the SIM, and crushed it.