“They tormented Rons. That’s how come Rons went to Trouble. Went there to settle the score because they’s in the wrong! Do ya hear me?” Toms shouted the last part and Seth tried to translate some of the hick from the Southern.
Deciding he had the gist of what Toms wanted conveyed, Seth said, “All right. Let’s talk business. Tell me about Heather.”
“If that girl had never stepped foot on my property, me and my brothers wouldn’t be locked up and the ones rottin’ would still be a-livin’. She started all this and I want her to pay more than any other. You got that part. Right?”
“I hear you, Toms,” Seth said, going along with pretty much everything. “What do you know about her boyfriends?”
“Fuck that shit,” Toms groaned.
“I’m not sure what you mean by that.”
“Gabe Reynolds is a possessive fuck. I would’ve had her in the grave long before now if it hadn’t been for him.”
“Curt Caldwell is also with her.”
“Curt ain’t the cocked gun.”
“I see,” Seth said, taking mental notes. “Well I hope to settle in tonight and make nice with the ladies.”
“Heard you had a run-in with Allister at the airport.”
Seth had figured on a tail. Toms probably wanted him to bitch and moan about having one. Instead, he said, “Yes. It was handled appropriately. I’m sure your contact told you as much.”
“Remember, I ain’t payin’ you to fuck Allister’s old lady. I want her just as dead as the rest of ’em when this is all over.”
“I hear you, Toms. I’ll be in touch.” He ended the call and shoved the phone in his pocket. Toms had given him an idea.
Seth and Allister’s ‘old lady’ certainly had a chemistry of sorts. If he could figure out how to take them all out without Ellie realizing he was behind the assassinations then maybe, just maybe…
“Fuck no,” he muttered, grimacing as he trekked to another concourse. He’d love to have Ellie for himself but there were a lot of women out there. He’d find one sooner or later, but until he finished his killing season, he needed to focus on the job, and Ellie couldn’t survive this.
Unless....He stopped short and further contemplated all options. Yes, that was it. He could offer Ellie the option. When it came down to it, the woman would choose him over death. And he’d give her that choice.
She deserved that much.
* * * *
“I never knew these clubs had private suites. How’d you know about this place?” Sable gripped the bedpost and removed her heels. She shrugged out of her tight-fighting shirt and wiggled away from her skirt.
“Turn around,” Harley said, wanting to capture the perfect intimate picture.
Sable crooked her finger back and forth then landed on the bed. She soon flipped over, bottoms up.
“God bless.” Mac’s mouth dropped.
Harley wasn’t in much better shape. The lavender and lace was enough to make him come in his jeans.
Mac lost his shirt, jeans, boots, belt, and anything else attached to his person. Harley took his own Southern time, placing everything in his pockets on the bedside table. “Dance for us.”
He picked up the remote and quickly found a music channel. Sable blushed but went to the bedpost and swung her body around like a stripper might. Her body angled to the left as she swayed back and forth.
“Lose the bra,” Mac demanded, his voice tight.
Her undergarments were stripped away in a sexy manner. She rolled her hips to the music and disposed of her panties before unhooking her bra. Shimming her shoulders, she lost the last thread of clothing covering her and jiggled her full breasts to taunt them.
Mac grabbed hold of her and pinned her to the bed, savagely traveling over her as he held her hands to the mattress and kissed her everywhere his lips could touch. Already suited up and ready for a quick fuck, Mac didn’t mess around with foreplay for long. He’d apparently had plenty on the plane.
With a devouring lick, he nipped her tightly drawn nipples, watching her for the kind of reaction Harley enjoyed witnessing, too. She arched her back and threw her chest forward.