Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
She also had a permanent seat on the back of his sled. She was the first and would be the last woman to ever sit there.
Despite them settling into their relationship, she was stressed because she still hadn’t been offered one fucking interview.
He hated seeing her like that.
Except for the part where he volunteered to help relieve some of her stress.
One side of his mouth pulled up.
“There he is.” Shade’s head was turned as he stared out of the passenger-side window.
Romeo squinted, trying to make out the man on the move. “You sure that’s him?”
“You fuckin’ tell me. You’ve seen the motherfucker in person. Not me.”
But Romeo had texted Shade enough pictures of Roger Smith that the long-haired Fury member should recognize Maddie’s former asshole boss.
Shade now also knew everything that Smith had done to her, making him even more motivated to pair with Romeo to deal with the motherfucker. They both agreed to keep it on the down-low from their clubs since this retribution was purely personal.
Magnum didn’t need to know what they were doing. Neither did Judge or Trip.
To keep her hands clean, Maddie didn’t need to know the details, either.
“Ready?” Shade asked.
“Yeah. Can’t wait,” he murmured, watching Smith—or Russo or whatever his real fucking last name was—climb in his overpriced douche-mobile. As soon as he headed out of the parking lot of Smith’s business, Shade put the plain white van with the fake license plate into gear and followed.
Their plan was simple. Make Smith disappear.
Romeo could confirm that Shade had the perfect way to do that. They only had to get Smith up to Manning Grove without getting caught along the way.
This needed to be handled as quietly and cleanly as possible. No evidence left behind besides an abandoned sports car. The last thing they wanted was the Sicilians finding out what happened to Smith or by whom. It could spark a war between the MC and the Mafia, and no one wanted that. It was one reason they left their cuts at home since they would easily identify them.
The goal was also to keep his ass out of prison. He doubted he’d be permitted conjugal visits, even if Maddie agreed to them.
“He’s takin’ a left,” he told Shade, like Maddie’s stepdaddy didn’t have two perfectly good eyes in his messed-up head.
No surprise when Romeo got zero reaction from him. Shade was a man of little words and had perfected the poker face.
They followed that motherfucker for two hours as he ran errands in very public places. Romeo worried that if one of Smith’s stops wasn’t in a good spot for them or the asshole headed home before they could intercept him, they’d have to abort their mission and do this shit all over again another night.
Neither of them wanted to do a repeat. They wanted to get this fucking shit over with. Tonight. This way they could move the fuck on with their lives and forget Smith ever existed.
The tricky part to this plan was leaving behind no DNA, witnesses, or video proof. This had to be handled with skill. Following him home and taking the guy from his driveway or house would be fucking stupid since the motherfucker probably had a security system with cameras.
As they watched Smith throw dry-cleaning into his cage, Shade said, “Might hafta make our own opportunity.”
“Thinkin’ the same thing. Got any idea on how the fuck to do that?”
“Yeah.”
Romeo waited for him to explain and when he didn’t, he asked impatiently, “Wanna fuckin’ share?”
“Could run him off the road but damage and paint transfer would be evidence. Need to leave his cage whole and make it seem like he abandoned it.”
That wasn’t a fucking solution. Maybe Romeo needed to call one of the Shadows and get some advice. If anyone could make someone disappear without a trace, it was Diesel’s guys. They’d also know a good technique to isolate their target.
But, if it could be avoided, he’d rather not share what was going down tonight with anyone.
“Still haven’t heard your idea.”
Romeo ground his teeth when Shade only grunted a reply.
The Fury member removed his foot from the van’s brake pedal and stepped on the accelerator to follow Smith’s Porsche out of the strip mall, where the dry cleaner was located, and out onto the road.
They knew his home address, so as soon as Smith turned onto a road that would eventually lead to his gated—and guarded—neighborhood, he warned, “Better get your idea in fuckin’ motion since he’s headed home.”
Of course, nothing but engine noise answered him.
He had to trust that Shade knew what the fuck he was doing.
Shade hooked a right so hard that Romeo had to hold onto shit so he wouldn’t be thrown into the passenger door. He was not spending another six weeks in casts.
“Smith’s goin’ straight,” Romeo announced.