Illusive (Storm MC 5)

“Jesus!” He swore under his breath. “This conversation is over. Bond is going to trial and you’re going to have to testify. Get your shit together and get ready for it.” He ended the call, and I placed my phone down on the bar as calmly as I felt.

Time to get to work.

* * *

Josie: Come to lunch at mine today. It’s Christmas Day and I want to see my nephew.

Me: I’m busy.

Josie: Make yourself unbusy.

Me: Is this another attempt to set me up with Sophia? She and I have spoken and nothing will happen there.

Josie: No, I’m gathering all my orphans together like I do every Christmas. It’s been ten years this year, Michael. You need to come this year. I don’t want you alone today.

I swore as I dropped my phone on my bed. I should never have taught her how to send a text. Unwrapping the towel from around my waist, I used it to dry my hair. I had plans today – plans that didn’t include Josie and her good intentions. However, I knew she’d never let me hear the end of it if I didn’t go to her lunch. And having to see her give me that Josie look of reproach for the next few months wasn’t something I wanted to experience.

Me: I might be late.

Josie: I’ll save you a plate.

I got dressed, shoved my phone in my pocket, grabbed my keys and headed out to take care of business.

And then it’d be happy families with Josie.

And a waiting game for Danny to realise I meant business.

* * *

I sat down the street from the familiar building of years ago. I’d lost count of how many hours I’d spent outside this building during that investigation.

Bond’s mansion.

Supposedly an impenetrable fortress.

I knew better and had confirmed it during the hours I’d spent last night hacking into their surveillance and computer systems. Not much had changed in the last four years, and that was a major error on their behalf because it would make what I was about to do that much easier. Knowledge is king, and I had all the knowledge I needed to make this happen.

Leaving my bike, I pulled my leather gloves and ski mask on and walked around the block to the back gate where I knew they had one guy stationed. As I rounded the corner, I took him in. Not as big as he’d appeared on the surveillance footage which went in my favour.

He had his back to me as I approached. When I made it to where he stood, I tapped him on the shoulder, and when he turned to face me, I pointed my gun in his face and reached for his two-way.

“What the fuck?” he sneered. “You do realise you’re about to have at least three guys on you, right?”

“How long do you give them?” I asked, not wanting to drag this out but unable to resist playing with him a little.

“Less than a minute. Probably less than thirty seconds.”

“So they should be here by now, then?”

“Any minute, asshole,” he spat out, his nostrils flaring, and his face full of contempt.

I pressed my gun hard against his forehead. “I’ll give you a head’s up, asshole – we’d grow old waiting for them.”

Understanding dawned on his face – he finally realised I’d fixed the surveillance so it didn’t show anything I was about to do. “Who the fuck are you?”

Yeah, that’s the question I’d be asking, too. I put my hand out while I kept my gun firm against his forehead. Ignoring his question, I said, “Give me the keys to the gate and the code.” Bond’s house had codes all the way through it, but I’d discovered the front gate code changed every hour as an added precaution.

“Fuck you.”