Tipsy (Take It Off #5)(26)
Author: Cambria Hebert

So what was the deal?

Push.

Something whispered in the back of my head. The Gray in me said it was a bad idea, but everything else seemed to come up with a badass plan.

The night that went well was the night I acted like Blue. Challenging Dom, getting in his face, using my fists and basically ordering everyone to keep their hands off Julie. He responded to that, to the action, to my hands-on approach.

Sitting around wasn’t going to get me anywhere with Dom. Action was the solution, so I climbed into the Mustang and put it in drive.

As far as I could tell, Dom lived alone, but there were always people at his place. There was always more than one female there as well. He lived in a one-story brick house, not really in the heart of the ghetto, but more on the outskirts. In my opinion, he chose that place because it was nicer than what the rest of us had and it made him feel like a king ruling over his subjects. The guy had a major ego problem.

However, his place wasn’t so far that he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on what was going down in his neighborhood.

I parked at the curb and got out, jogging across the half-dead lawn, and pounded on the front door. It swung open and one of the crew members, Tony, stood blocking my path.

I motioned with my chin. “What up, Tony?” I said and held my fist out for a pound. He regarded me suspiciously for a moment, but then he returned the pound and motioned for me to enter the house.

Even though it was the middle of the day, the place was shut up like a tomb. Curtains covered the windows, and the only light was from a floor lamp sitting in the corner of the room. Dom was sprawled out on a black leather couch, holding a controller to an Xbox as he and a few guys played some bloody war game on the large flat screen.

No one paid me any attention as I walked into the room, which was filled with marijuana smoke, and the scent made my nostrils burn. How anyone smoked that shit was beyond me. There were a bunch of open forty containers on the coffee table, and I held back a snort. Nothing like getting drunk and high in the middle of the day instead of actually getting a real job. One that didn’t kill people with overdoses.

“What’s up, Dom?” I said, stopping behind the couch and pretending interest in the Xbox game.

He ignored me.

A flash of irritation slapped my insides. I had enough of this shit. I worked on this case for months in Myrtle Beach and we got nowhere. I came home, thinking I could finally get my life back. I got a second chance with Julie, and then this case got in the way again.

I stalked around the couch and across the room, toward the game console. With a very angry and deliberate jerk, I yanked the cord from the wall. The TV screen turned blue as the game system shut off.

The silence in the room was deafening.

I could feel the anger wafting off Dom. “What the hell!” he roared, throwing the controller down, and it bounced off the coffee table and hit the floor. He jolted to his feet, an angry set to his jaw and fisted hands at his side. “You trying to piss me off?”

“I’m tired of waiting around,” I replied.

“Excuse me?”

Everyone in the room sat tense and waiting to see what Dom would do.

“You said there was an opening in the crew. You said you were going to check me out, give me a position. That was weeks ago. I’m tired of waiting. I need to get paid.”

He regarded me stonily for several minutes. I held my ground. Shit, I would love for him to charge me. I was up for a fight. Frustration simmered just underneath my skin, and the more time that passed, the harder and harder it was getting to contain it.

“I checked you out,” he said, offering no other explanation.

“Well, then I know damn well you know I’m qualified.”

“You’re qualified.” He allowed.

“Then what the fuck, Dom? You trying to jerk me around? You want to see how far you can push me?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. He looked stupid in his way-too-baggy shorts and too-big designer white tee. I would never understand the trend to wear a baseball hat crooked either. It looked stupid.

“The crew in Myrtle Beach might trust you. But I don’t.” His eyes narrowed as he spoke.

“Isn’t LeBraun your boss? Are you saying what’s good enough for him ain’t good enough for you?”

A couple guys who’d been reclining against the couch jumped to their feet. Dom held up his hand like he was telling them to stand down. I wanted to roll my eyes.

“This is my territory,” Dom began. “And I run it how I see fit. If I don’t trust you, then I don’t trust you.”

“So that’s it, then? I’m out?” I kept a lid on my cool. Showing how upsetting this was wouldn’t be good. Mentally, I was kicking myself. This could end badly. I could blow everything I’d been setting up. This could be a real setback for the case. Watson would have a shit fit if I told him I pissed off the crew here.

Maybe I should have listened to Gray on this one instead of listening to what my gut was telling me.

When Dom didn’t say anything else, I muttered a nasty expletive and then stalked to the door.

“Gray,” Dom said before I got there.

I stopped. “What?” I spat.

“You want my trust? You gotta earn it.”

Boo-yah! I mentally high-fived myself. I was kickass.

“How do you want me to do that?” I asked, trying to sound like I was bored.

“Do a job for me.”

My stomach revolted. Selling drugs to people wasn’t what I wanted to do. Yes, it was part of a bigger plan to get those drugs off the street, but selling them to anyone and adding to the problem I was trying to clean up felt wrong.

But I would do it if I had to.

“What kind of job?”

“I got a shipment that needs to be delivered to Myrtle Beach.”

Something inside me relaxed, and I swung to face Dom. “You want me to deliver it?”

I could set up a sting. I could confiscate the drugs and we could take them all down for trafficking. This was good. Real good.

“No,” Dom said, cutting into my mental happy dance.

Well, damn. “Then what?”

“I need a delivery vehicle—one that won’t look shady—to transport the shipment. Something that won’t catch the eye of the po-po.”

Po-po = police.

“Everyone in this room has a car.” I pointed out. “I’ll drive it down in my Mustang.”

“You ain’t got enough room in your backseat for the goods,” he said.

I perked up a little. So this was a major haul. These assholes were going away for a long time.