Tattoo (Take It Off #7)(14)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“Who the hell is this?” he demanded when he answered.

“It’s West,” I replied, keeping my voice muted.

“What the hell have you gotten yourself into now, West?” he growled into the phone.

“Just a normal day at the office,” I replied, leaning against the large window and scanning the room for anyone overly interested in my conversation.

The place wasn’t very busy. It was late afternoon and most people already got their caffeine fix for the day.

“Where are you?” he asked, his tone turning serious.

“The snake we chopped the head off of is growing a new head.”

He was silent a moment. I knew he would understand what I was telling him. “That’s what the heist was about? Startup funds?”

“Yes.”

“Did they force you and the girl out with them?”

“I went willingly,”

“Why the hell would you do that, West?” he demanded.

“Did you take your blood pressure pill today?” I asked.

He made a choking sound.

As much as I enjoyed ribbing him, I didn’t have time right now. “They saw the mark. They brought me into the fold. They assume the girl is with me. She needs medical attention.” I turned and lowered my voice. “About two miles outside of Garner there is an old abandoned gas station. You’ll find what you’re looking for beneath it.”

“Can you hold out a few more hours, until we get a team in place and we have the cover of night?”

“Yeah. Make sure you have an ambulance on standby.”

“Are you hit, West?” he asked, concerned.

“No. She is.”

Mac swore. “Keep her alive, West. She—”

I cut him off. The kid behind the counter was setting my complete order on the counter and glancing my way.

“I will. See you in a few.” I disconnected the line and then quickly erased the call from the phone’s history.

I lifted my chin to the kid behind the counter and slid it across to him as I lifted the two boxes of donuts. I balanced them with one arm and reached for the beverage holder full of coffee.

“Thanks, man,” I told him.

“Have a good one,” he said.

I highly doubted the rest of my day was going to be very good. But at least by tonight, all this shit would be over. With my testimony, the presence of the stolen money, and Taylor’s bullet wound, the case against these clump nuggets would be airtight.

Taylor would go to the hospital, and I could go fishing.

I wasn’t sure why, but suddenly, fishing wasn’t as appealing as it seemed this morning.

8

Taylor

I forced myself up into a sitting position, the long-lost adrenaline finally finding its way into my system.

If this guy wanted to kill me, I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

I glanced around for a weapon, but of course there wasn’t one. I eyed the two-by-fours nailed between the spaces and wondered if they were fragile enough to dislodge one so I could wield it.

My stomach roiled, the meager contents of the latte and croissant I ate this morning threatening to make a reappearance. I leaned back against the wall, using it as a support for my broken body. Using my uninjured arm, I tried to pull the flannel around me a little more, needing more warmth and unable to find it.

I knew I was running a fever. The way my body ached and shook was proof. I also knew a fever wasn’t a good sign. I wondered how much longer I could sit down here without treatment before I became too sick to function.

“Seems your boy Slater has quite the reputation,” Snake said, stopping in front of the cot to stare down at me.

I didn’t bother to answer because I wasn’t sure what kind of reputation he was referring to. I prayed it wasn’t the reputation of a cop.

He smirked. “You didn’t know, did you?”

“Know what?” I asked, my voice weak.

“Slater is quite a ladies’ man. A player. You know you’re probably not the only girl he keeps around.”

So that’s what this was about? Brody was a player? This wasn’t about his real identity coming to light. This wasn’t about me being killed as a message to the nark. This was about mental abuse. Snake thought he would have some fun at the expense of the bleeding girl on the cot.

“I never asked him for a commitment,” I said, lifting my chin.

He grinned. “He wouldn’t give you one anyway. I heard all about how he has a lady in every crew, a girl in every bar. In fact, he only did the bare minimum of work in Jacksonville because he was too busy burying his face in some girl’s cleavage.”

What a lovely picture that painted. My stomach soured just a little bit more.

“What’s your point?” I spat.

Snake leaned down in from of me, his body brushing up against my knees. He was a tall guy, a little on the thin side, with a buzzed head, dark eyes, and eyebrows that seriously needed a wax. His nose was crooked like it had been broken and his teeth were yellowed likely from smoking the cigarettes of which he reeked.

He had a greasy look about him and I really wasn’t surprised. He probably was around my age, and he was definitely not my type.

He pulled a gun out of the waistband of the back of his pants and laid it beside me on the cot, the muzzle pointing at my thigh.

You know, it pissed me off. I wasn’t in the mood to look at guns. I wasn’t in the mood to get shot again.

“What the hell do you want?” I breathed.

He reached out and touched a strand of hair. “I’ve always had a thing for gingers.” he replied, smiling.

I forced back a gag.

“Since you don’t seem to mind sharing Slater, maybe he wouldn’t mind sharing you.”

“I’d mind,” I said, looking him straight in the eye.

“Why roll with a beta when you could belong to an alpha?” he said.

Was I supposed to swoon? That wasn’t going to happen. Ever.

“I don’t belong to anyone but myself.”

He reached around the back of my neck and yanked me forward. I felt some of the gauze wrapped around my arm yank free and a gush of warmth under my arm.

“I like a woman that knows how to use her mouth.”

Really? I swear this loser could write a book on the worst pickup lines in history.

He brought his face closer and I readied my teeth. I’d bite him if he came any closer. Yeah, it would get me shot again, but I’d rather take another bullet than let his smarmy mouth touch me.

The heavy sound of footfalls overhead sent relief collapsing over me. Brody was back. Snake looked up at the ceiling and then back at me, giving me a smirk. The door to the basement opened with a creak, and I saw Brody’s jean-clad legs come into view.