Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Dark
This is bullshit.
I should’ve locked that fine woman in a goddamn closet until after this was over.
But no, I had to be a supportive man and let her and my ex-wife dress in the skimpiest maid outfits, not the sex shop ones, but close enough—a white, short, button-up style that will definitely show their asses if they bend over, and you can forget about covering their tits. They’re out.
All the way out.
The women who work there are given special bras that hold their boobs up and out. Which has to be some medieval torture device. Sola and Kali have average breasts, but Iris…Christ.
“If anyone in this room makes a single inappropriate remark about any of our women’s tits, I will stab you,” I snarl, watching the computer screen Rot has sent to the television mounted on the wall in our room so we’re not hovering over his shoulder.
Three separate cameras show us everything our women see, thanks to tiny cameras we installed in their earrings.
I dunno how they work, that’s out of my pay grade, but they’re working really fucking well.
Too well.
We’re twenty miles from the resort, holed up in a schlocky motel. Most of the brothers are in other rooms, ready to ride. But I can tell you right now, these sick fucks were prepared for this pedo meeting.
There’s only one road in and out of this resort. It’s two miles long, with security at the entrance, a mile in, and at the resort itself. When Big said he needed us on this, he miscalculated. We are not equipped for this kind of attack. Not without proper intel or a solid plan.
Yet we still sent in three of our women, which gives these sick fucks more bodies to mess with.
It’s bad enough that Kali’s already taken two bathroom breaks to lose her shit—crying in a stall because there are kids, just as we knew there would be.
They have them swimming in pools, and they’re doing vile shit, getting them drunk, and…
I’m not even gonna say anything else because if you’re anything like my ex-wife, you’d need therapy just hearing it from me.
Bottom line… There’s sharing and selling.
There’s a reason it’s at the border.
Easy in. Easy out. Less chance of government interference.
They’ve handled this exactly as I would if I were a gross piece of shit who preyed on women and children and had a God complex. Which they all do. You can’t be in that world without something seriously wrong with you.
Pops is on the phone with Gunz in the other room, as Rot props his phone on the bed so Necro, his prez, can see what we do.
Which ain’t much.
A square building. A central courtyard with three pools, lounge chairs, and plants.
There’s a bar, music, and undressed people, which tracks with our women having their tits out.
Sola rolls a maid cart to another room. We’re on day three of the summit.
After everything was said and done, we decided to wait a bit to give these assholes a false sense of security before doing whatever’s necessary to help those women and children get to safety.
It’s gonna be a bloodbath. There’s no way this pops off without innocents getting caught in the crossfire.
Most of my brothers get to be the knights in shining chrome when they run these jobs.
In and out. The five-second saviors. They’re not in the thick of it.
They’ve never rubbed elbows with these men day in and day out for months at a time.
I have. I know how they work. How they talk. What they do and how they do it.
When Kali turns and gives us a clear shot of one of the pool areas, I point to the screen. “That’s Jerry. CEO of a tech company. Scumbag. Outta New York.” It’s not surprising that ole Jerry is doing the unsavory shit he’s known for.
Not having the stomach for it, Angel, Monster, and Wolf turn around.
I point to another man. “Reginald Fucking Master,” I snarl at the gray-haired douche who was supposed to be on the yacht last year but backed out at the last minute.
From the doorway of the other room, Pops leans his shoulder against the jamb. “You know a lot of these men,” he comments.
“Yeah. I do.”
“You think you could get in there with them?” he asks.
“When I’m supposed to be dead, and without an invite? No.” Trust me, I’ve thought about it.
“Does everyone know you’re dead?”
“It was announced in the paper. If I’d caught wind of this sooner, sure, I could’ve weaseled my way in somehow and lied about something or other to make it believable. But not in the middle of a summit, I never knew before this.”
Pops nods at the screen. “You gotta see why I asked.”
“I do. But you also need to tell Gunz that while I respect what he and our prez are tryin’ to do here, we’re not equipped for this kinda mission. There are not enough resources.”
“I’ve said as much.”
“And?”
“We’re workin on a solution.”
They’d damn well better be.
“In case you forgot, you’re a cleaner, old man. We make the messes. You clean ‘em up,” I remind my father.
“They wanted Kali and my future daughter-in-law. So, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get them out safe.”
“They should’ve… Wait. What?” His future daughter-in-law? Christ. He had to go and pull that fuckin’ card, didn’t he?
Dad flicks his chin at my cut. “You’ve got a ring in there, don’t cha?”
Nope. We’re not doin’ this right now.
“What the actual fuck?” I hiss.
“Kid. I know you.”
While that might be true, I’m not going there.
“We ain’t got time for this.” Ignoring my father, I turn to Rot. “You got any way to reach our women in there? Or is this a one-way thing?”
Rot leans back in his chair, threads his fingers behind his neck, and looks up at me with a cunning grin. “What do you think?”
“I think you love your woman and you’d wanna keep her safe. So how do we talk to ‘em?”
“Sola has a device,” he confirms. “I put it in her, so it’s undetectable.”
Great.
“You put something in your woman’s pussy?”
Rot winks. “Hell yeah. It’s her God-given purse.”
“You’re gross.” I laugh.
“You’ll thank me for this later.”
“Oh. I’m sure I will. Now let’s get this fuckin’ mess figured out.”