* * *
As I sat back in position, watching Ricky’s house from a few houses down and waiting for Blade’s signal, my phone buzzed silently with a text from Nash.
Nash: We have the details for tomorrow’s drug deal.
Me: Good. We’ll go over it later.
Nash: How’s our friend?
Me: Twenty minutes tops and he won’t be our friend anymore.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket. Nash, Wilder and Scott weren’t here for this part of the plan. They were out with the rest of our boys raising hell and giving Storm an alibi for this murder. Blade, J and I were taking care of Ricky with the help of Blade’s boys.
My signal from Blade came – a flick of his wrist – and I started the Range Rover, and drove it down the street. It was Ricky’s Range Rover that I’d ‘borrowed’ from his driver while said driver took a rest. Pulling up outside Ricky’s house, I asked the woman in the back, “You ready?”
“All ready, Mr. Griff.” She winked at me in the rearview mirror. “Maybe once we done for the day, you give me a go? I could show you good time.”
I met her gaze in the mirror. She was a beautiful woman, especially if you were into Asian beauty. I, however, wasn’t into any beauty other than the beauty that was spending today regrouping, so I shook my head. “I’ll have to say no, babe.”
“Ah, I see, you already got woman for tonight.”
My dick jerked at the thought. I sure as fuck did.
The back door of the Range Rover opened, and Ricky got in. I held my breath waiting to see if our plan would be shot to shit before it even really began, but the woman in the back played her part well, and stole his attention completely off me. I’d dressed appropriately, and if he’d given the back of me a quick glance, he would have assumed I was his driver, but if he’d investigated closely, we would have needed to move to Plan B.
We knew from Nash & J’s surveillance of Ricky that his driver collected women for him every day at two and then picked him up to take them both to a sex club. Today, we’d supplied the woman and Ricky wouldn’t be making it as far as the club.
While she distracted him, I drove in the direction of the club. Blade and his boys followed at a distance, and just before we arrived at the club, I took the agreed upon detour.
“Why the fuck did you turn there?” Ricky demanded, and I pressed a little harder on the pedal. We were nearly at our destination – an old warehouse that Blade owned.
I didn’t answer him. Instead, J appeared from the very back of the Range Rover, hooked his arm tightly around Ricky’s throat from behind and held his gun to Ricky’s head. “It seems we have a slight detour to make, motherfucker,” he snarled.
Ricky began kicking at the seat in front of him and clawing at J’s arm. I concentrated on the road ahead, drowning out their yelling as best I could, even though my natural instinct was to take my gun and shoot him in the goddamn head. We’d agreed, though, not to shoot him in the Range Rover. We wanted nothing left in the car that could possibly lead back to Storm.
A few minutes later, I pulled into the warehouse and slammed on the brakes. Blade and his boys pulled in after us and then the doors to the warehouse were quickly pulled shut. I jumped out, rounded the car, opened Ricky’s door and yanked him out. J followed close behind, and as I held him, J patted him down, removing weapons as he went.
Blade joined us, and Ricky scowled at his presence. “I see you boys needed Blade to tag along for this. Storm never did have any fucking balls.”
&
nbsp; Once J had removed all of Ricky’s weapons, I shoved him away from me so he stood in the middle of all three of us. Blade’s boys held back, ready for whatever went down.
“I’m merely here for fun, Ricky,” Blade said. “And to see you get what you should have gotten years ago. I don’t make many mistakes in life, but letting you live back then was one of my biggest ones.”
“No, your biggest mistake will be what goes down today. If you think I don’t have plans in place for what happens in the event of my death, you’re all fucking stupid. But then again, I always knew that.”
I punched him hard on the cheek. Something I’d wanted to do for a very long fucking time. I’d hit him with such force that he stumbled back quite a few steps. His hand moved to his cheek, and he scowled at me.
I held up my hands in a fighting position, and said, “Take a shot, motherfucker. I’m in the mood for some fun today.”
He lunged at me, but I sidestepped his punch. Moving fast, I turned and punched him in the gut.
“Fuck!” he roared, clutching his gut. He then came at me again, and managed to clip me on the side of my face.
I was ready for him, though, and punched him so hard on his cheek that he fell to the ground. Stepping forward, I pressed my boot into his gut to hold him down there. “You wanna know who made the mistake in all of this, Ricky? You, motherfucker. Storm is a force to be reckoned with now that Marcus is gone. We’re not gonna just roll over and let people fuck us anymore,” I snarled, my anger at him rolling through me, consuming me.
J eyed me, a look of pure dislike on his face. “Can we hurry this the fuck up? The shit coming out of his mouth is worse than the worst reality show on TV, and I should know how bad that stuff is ‘cause my wife subjects me to it more than I care to admit.”