20. Talon
TALON
T he moon was the only light in this rundown industrial park. Away from the city you could almost forget the life pulsing like the beat of a heart on the strip.
Quiet.
Even Margaux seemed calm for the moment.
I’d watched her through dinner and saw Ronan try and make it all right, but anything with the family was never cut and dry, and with her uncle?
I saw the way she’d hidden herself away behind that fake facade.
Not much any of us could do really, except make her forget.
“I thought you guys said there would be people here.”
I smirked to myself while I kept looking out the window. Oh the shit I could do to pass the time. I could still taste her on my tongue. My cock sure as shit still remembered the sounds she had made even with Jett trying to swallow every last one of them. I shifted trying to adjust my cock.
“There are, but if you can see them they aren’t doing their job, angel.”
Knox glanced back.
“Come up here, Margaux, and I’ll show you what we are waiting for.”
I expected her to deny him, and maybe I hated that she didn’t.
“You can say no, princess. Knox is fine in his chair all by his lonesome,” I said even as I watched her unbuckle her seat belt.
She shifted and started to move, pausing at the center console, and looked back at me.
“Talon, don’t be sad. You have Jett.”
I sucked air through my teeth and gave her a slow, sarcastic nod before looking back out the window. I felt Jett shift.
“You touch me, and I will throat punch you, sweetheart,” I said.
Jett’s finger poked my cheek.
“Aww, but pretty girl said I could keep you company.”
I reached out and punched him just hard enough.
“Ouch. I’m telling Margaux. Margaux, come kiss my boo-boo,” Jett said, but he shifted a little farther away like he actually thought she would come back here. Instead I was trying to ignore the way her ass flashed us as her skirt shifted when she moved to get into Knox’s lap.
Fuck. Who would have thought even he had a thing for her? Maybe that was some kind of fucking miracle.
I went back to watching the warehouse.
Knox, on the other hand, held up night-vision binoculars she hadn't noticed.
“This will pick up movements of heat. It can pick up a lot more than the human eye at night. There is also a good chance that the truck doing the delivery hasn’t left yet and should be passing by soon.”
So we sat and waited, looking for exactly what Knox said.
Jett couldn’t be patient, like usual, and slid to the middle seat and then leaned into the front.
“Knoxy, how are you are so calm with pretty girl sitting on your lap like that? I’m hard just watching her breathe.”
Knox didn’t even move his head, never breaking his concentration.
“Some of us have self-control, J. You planning to sit in the car with her while we go in?”
Rain started to fall in thick drops against the windows, the sound loud in the SUV. Fuck.
“They’ll move faster with the rain,” I said, grabbing for the binoculars from Knox. “Did you see that? There was a small… yeah. Someone lit a cigarette. The truck should be moving any minute if they’re already taking a break.”
“Alright, Margaux. Take your ass back to Jett so we can go take care of business,” Knox said.
She didn’t move.
“How about you just take me with you? Wouldn’t my father-in-law love that I was involved?”
Ronan reached across and grabbed her face.
“No. Women aren’t good for much in Barone’s eyes. You’ve earned one point for your whole loyalty comment, which by the way, I didn’t expect you to be such a good little liar.”
She shook her head to get his hand away.
“Well, I’ve been learning from the best, and I don’t just mean my uncle. Tell me, Ronan, how long did you think you were going to be able to hide this whole wedding thing purely to get something from my trust fund?”
I looked back at the warehouse and made out the truck driving without the lights on. It was almost time.
“Ronan, can you please fuck with our bride later? We need to take care of this,” I said.
The word bride was a very intentional choice.
She could only marry one of us, and he was the logical choice for the protection of his name alone.
It just felt like, well, it felt like one of us had something the others didn’t and that wasn’t right. We didn’t do that.
I pushed the thought aside and opened the door, knowing the others would follow.
I got five steps from the SUV and realized I’d only heard one other door close.
“Knox, where is Ronan? Isn’t Jett watching her?”
Knox grabbed for his gun in the holster under his arm.
“She’s putting up a fight. He’ll be right out.”
I sighed.
“She’s sort of a pain. Do you think she’s picking favorites? She can’t marry Ronan and stay in our house if she’s…”
I shut up as Ronan’s door opened and closed.
Knox leaned closer to me.
“I don’t think she knows her own feelings yet.”
He was probably right., but we didn’t trust just anyone, and Ronan was the most paranoid. What had he seen in her that made him adopt the stray? Fuck, what did any of us see in her? We walked in silence to the side door where I’d seen a guy taking his break.
The rain still flowed from the heavens, but it wasn’t pouring any more. The sound on the metal roofs of the buildings was a good way to hide our approach and make our jobs easier.
Margaux’s face kept invading my thoughts even in the short walk.
There was a fire in her behind that pretty little exterior.
A survivor. It reminded me of something.
It reminded me of just exactly what had brought the four of us together as kids.
We all had a fire that simmered just below the surface, waiting to burn down the world around us.
“You seem light with your fingers, Mark. How long did you think we wouldn’t notice?” Ronan had Mark’s head pressed cheek to metal on a table.
“I didn’t do it. I swear.”
I stepped around.
“Mark, Mark, Mark. If not you, then who?”
I grabbed his hand and laid it on the table right where he could see it.
“I don’t know. We’ve had some issues with the cops. The van almost got pulled over on its way here.”
I shifted my weight and he flinched as I dug a finger into a pressure point of his hand.
“Almost doesn’t mean did. And from what I’m seeing,” I paused and watched Knox finish going through the shipments, “it looks like we’re a crate short.”
Mark’s eyes were a little wider.
“How would you know? There’s no record on the number of crates expected. I asked. The supplier just got a cut, but the exact counts weren’t reported the last two times.”
Knox had his knife out even though he was done prying open each crate. There were eight in total and there should have been nine. Knox moved like a fucking ghost, and Mark had no warning as he slammed his knife into Mark’s hand.
Mark screamed, but there was no one here to care.
Three others remained kneeling next to us. One moved, and I pointed my gun at his head.
“Someone is going to tell us how we know there has been missing product even without a so-called count.”
We’d recently changed the way we had to get the painkillers here. Had to get more creative. Barone’s business models were mostly legal, but then there was this side of things. This side is what brought in the real cash.
“Alright, since Mark isn’t answering, let me enlighten you,” I said. “Each crate is marked. The fruit in them? All unique to the crate. We know the fruit that’s coming, you don’t. Why? Why wouldn’t we tell a lowly warehouse worker what we were expecting?”
I leaned over until I could meet him eye to eye. I watched his pupils dilate.
“I think he’s in shock. Fucking hell,” I said.
Just then the rain got louder, and when we looked over at the side door, it was evident why.
“Fucking Jett.”
He had Margaux’s arm in his hand and she was pulling him along all the same.
“Guys, I had to chase her down. She won’t stay in the car. Look at my damn eye!”
Jett pointed to where it was already red and puffy.
“You’ve had worse; you’ll be—” My words cut off with the air I sucked in at the sting of something in my side.
“Fuck.”
I fired my gun, and the guy who had just stabbed me dropped to the floor. I turned to the other two.
“Anyone else playing hero tonight?”
They feverishly shook their heads, but I didn’t believe it.
“Mark, did you tell him to be a hero?” Knox asked him. I stepped away from the table. Shit. The knife was tiny and it fucking stung. Damn it.
I looked around for something I could use to put pressure on it so I could remove the damn blade. I hated it poking me in the side even more than I hated the burn of the stab.
“Talon?” I looked up at the sound of Margaux’s voice. “Oh my god, are you okay?”
I cocked my brow.
“Are you worried about me, princess?”
The way she chewed on her lower lip told me she was.
“Aww, thanks for the concern, but it’s just a—” I didn't finish the thought because in one smooth motion, she had lifted her dress, grabbed the knife from her thigh holster, and marched over to the body I’d already shot.
“You asshole.”
The guy wasn’t fully dead, not yet, so when she stabbed him in the chest, pretty close to the bullet I’d lodged there, he let out a gurgled cry.
“Margaux, pretty sure you got his lung. He’ll—” I stopped talking again when she yanked the blade out and the guy tried to reach for her hand to stop her but she batted it away, and this time she went right for his heart.
I shifted over to Ronan and Jett; Knox had taken several steps closer but hesitated as we all tried to figure it out.
“Uh. Do we stop her?” I asked.
Ronan was still holding Mark down.
“It’s kind of hot, her avenging you and shit,” Jett said.
Fuck. A warmth blossomed in my chest. He wasn’t wrong.
She stabbed him two more times before she stood up, out of breath.
She pushed back her long hair, a streak of blood along her cheek. When she finally looked away from the now still body, confusion was the only emotion evident.