Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
I nodded once in understanding.
“So Carillo is yours,” he said. “In return, I will cover your expenses, make sure everyone who knows your name is dead, and give you what little intel I have. And I will hand over anyone who might have information on your niece’s whereabouts to your men.”
I released a breath and leaned back, hit with relief for the first time in almost three days.
“Two more things.” He smirked. “I want the credit.”
My mouth twitched. “You can have it. The second?”
“You will never work against me,” he said, dead serious. “Never take a job, accept a contract, that results in me losing money or manpower. If you do, we’ll come after you next.”
I stared at him, and I wished it were an easy yes. I wished I could agree and shake his hand without further stipulations, but I couldn’t. For twenty years, I’d gone up against men like him to varying degrees. I’d brought people home from hostage situations, I’d gotten caught in the crossfire of turf wars, and I had killed warlords. I also had a friend who’d been kidnapped to be sold off into slavery. Luckily, Darius had saved him—then married him too. I’d been there to help them take down the organization.
“Do you remember the conversation we had on the roof that night in Tijuana?” I asked.
Vincente had been coked-up and chatty as fuck, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he had no recollection. That was the night he thought we’d fucked too.
He narrowed his eyes, pensive. “Remind me.”
“I told you how I felt about human traffickers,” I said.
He nodded slowly, possibly remembering bits and pieces. “What of it? You know I don’t get involved in that shit. I’m running a coke empire here, Elliott. I keep telling people—you want a slave? Go to Texas. You want cheap bullshit synthetic drugs? Go to the Asians or the trash of America. You want the best cocaine? You come to me.”
Then we had a deal. He spoke too liberally about slavery, but we had a deal. “Anything concerning human trafficking is my exception. I will always go to war against that.”
He chuckled and stood up. “You have a bleeding heart, Elliott. Don’t let it run you dry.” He leaned over the desk and extended a hand. “I accept your terms.”
I stood up too, and I shook his hand. “We have a deal.”
“Excellent! Let’s celebrate with a drink, and then I can tell you everything I know about Carillo.”
2000
We had a deal…
Two weeks. Just screwing. Exploring.
“I still can’t believe you have posters on your walls.”
He chuckled drowsily and brought my arm around his middle. “What’s wrong with that?”
Nothing, if you were twelve.
His room looked similar to how mine had looked years ago. I’d had posters of military ships and aircraft too. And a football jersey. Too much laundry on the floor, a basketball in the corner, used plates with stale pizza crusts, and…so on.
I pressed my lips to his shoulder and kissed my way to his neck. He was so warm and smelled so fucking incredible.
“Don’t get me hard again,” he murmured.
I smiled against his skin and pressed my cock deeper into him. Maybe I would get hard again too…
“Dick,” he whispered. “When do you have to go?”
Fuck. I didn’t wanna think about it. Which was his goddamn fault. Yeah, he was a little dorky and so…fresh outta high school…but these past two weeks had revealed other sides of Joel too. We’d found ways to meet up almost every day. Never for very long; we’d still had our priorities, and that was to get off. But it wasn’t like we hadn’t talked at all. And…he was funny. Equal parts cool and sweet as fuck. Not afraid to show himself vulnerable.
I sighed and looked up at the clock above his CD shelves. “A few minutes.”
I couldn’t lie. This sucked.
He squirmed around in my arms, and I instantly wanted to be back inside him.
He dropped his gaze and drew a finger along a faint scar on my chest. “It’d be weird if we didn’t run into each other at some point, right?”
I guessed so. Maybe. I didn’t know. When would that be? Sure, I’d be home in between deployments, and I was stationed right here in San Diego, but he was off to Florida. Either he’d do four years in college, or he’d end up in the Coast Guard. They trained their tactical unit snipers in Jacksonville.
I mustered a smirk despite it all. “I don’t see Piper letting you go. Maybe I’ll start listening when she gushes about you.”
I’d admitted to him that my sister wanted way more than friendship.
He didn’t wanna believe me.
“You should listen…” He reached up and brushed his lips to mine. “If I’m on your mind a lot, chances are you’ll jerk off to these fucking awesome memories we’ve created. I’ve never had so much material in my life.”