Torn Bond (Bonded Duet 1)

“Why?” He twirled his gun in his hand and grinned at me. “We can just shoot the fuckers and get what we came here for.”

I gritted my teeth and clenched my hands in my lap. It was people like Rory, who didn’t think twice before he shot, that I couldn’t stand. Once you had that weapon in your hand, you best be sure you were ready to take an answering bullet; otherwise, you shouldn’t be pulling it in the first place.

“Because we don’t need extra bodies. Extra bodies mean eyes on us from the law.” I turned my head to look at him. “We go when I say we go, got it?”

Rory stared at me, his gaze flicking over my entire face, and I knew I’d pulled my mask on. The same mask I used to wear when I was a twenty-year-old who shot first and asked questions later. Those days had long since passed, but it didn’t mean the memories weren’t fresh in my mind. Rory looked away, his silence his answer.

Some people came filing out of the house, and I recognized one of them as the top dog of their little crew. He swerved to the left, and the woman under his arm righted him. First rule from Garza: never taste your own product. But it looked like this guy hadn’t been able to stop himself, just like Hut hadn’t.

Once they’d all piled into a car and left the street, I counted to ten and then pulled my gun out, making sure it was loaded. I didn’t want to use it, but if my life was in danger, I would. Unlike Rory, who would shoot anyone in that house just because they were there.

“Let’s go,” I commanded, pushing my door open and slamming it closed. I wasn’t quiet. I had no intention to sneak up on the house. I was coming in hot because I wanted them to see me. Garza had left it up to me how I handled this, and I knew I’d do it without a casualty, or at least, I hoped I would.

The front yard was littered with red Solo cups and empty baggies, and I shook my head. They weren’t even trying to be inconspicuous about it. They just didn’t care. I jogged up to the front door and knocked on it twice. I was going to try and be civilized, but I couldn’t promise anything once that door was open. I had some pent-up energy I needed to release. Belle flashed through my mind, and I immediately pushed her away. I couldn’t think about her or what had happened, not right now, not when the door was creaking open.

“Can I help you?” a squeaky voice asked. He sounded like his balls hadn’t dropped, but he looked about forty with the scars on his face and the way his eyes sunk in. He was high, that much was obvious.

Instead of answering him, I pushed on the door, and he stumbled back. I hadn’t even used much effort at all, and the sight of it had Rory laughing his head off. “Jesus! He’s out for the count, and you didn’t even touch him!”

I couldn’t stop the quirk of my lips as I looked down at the guy and then back at Rory. He was out cold, but I had a feeling it was more to do with the drugs than it was me pushing the door into him. “Come on,” I told Rory, walking through the main room the front door led us into. The walls were yellow, the furniture covered in stains, but it was the smell emanating from the house that was unmistakable. It was sweet and inviting, a lure these people couldn’t deny. All you needed was one taste and you were hooked, and that one taste would never be enough for them.

We needed to make sure there wasn’t anyone else in the house, so I took the upstairs while Rory checked down. Each room was empty—no drugs, no people. Had I not known the head guy was here ten minutes ago, I’d have thought it was just another crack house.

“Anything?” I asked Rory as my boots echoed on each stair.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs, his hands on

his hips with his gun hanging off two of his fingers. “Nothing.”

I frowned and narrowed my eyes on the walls. There were only so many places you could hide drugs and have easy access to them to sell to buyers. I thought back to Hut’s house and all the hiding places we used to use. Lola had known about a couple of them, the main one being—

“What’s behind that picture?” I pointed at the wall which held a picture, the only one I’d seen in this house. It was out of place, a beacon, which meant there had to be something behind it. Rory rushed over to the wall and stood on the sofa, yanking the painting off, and sure enough, there was the safe that I had no doubt held the drugs.

A groan rang out from the guy on the floor, and I stepped toward him. I may not have been here to take a life, but I had no problem knocking people out, especially those who were high as a kite. I slammed my fist down onto his temple, the one shot doing its job, and then sauntered over to Rory.

“Now, the question is, do we take the entire safe or just the contents?”

Rory’s lips spread into a wide grin, and he nodded like an eager puppy. “I say we take the whole thing.” He turned and pushed his hands on the front of it to test how secure it was. “It’s not even installed properly.”

I shrugged. “Let’s take the whole thing then.” I hadn’t even finished what I was saying before Rory had pulled the safe halfway out of the wall. Did these people not understand that a safe was meant to be a safe for a reason? This was just a glorified lockbox.

“Need a hand there?” I asked, wiping off my hands on my jeans and stowing my gun away.

“Nope.” Rory clutched the safe in his arms and jumped down off the sofa. “I got it.” His voice was strained, his face turning red, but he was used to lifting things this heavy. I was sure he spent every spare moment in the gym doing weights.

I stepped over the guy and pulled the front door open for Rory, but we couldn’t leave without a parting message. I glanced around the room for something to write with and found a paper and notepad sitting on the table. It was full of numbers, probably their sales, but I didn’t care about that. They were small fish in a big pond with a shark for company. I wanted the shark, not the bottom feeders.

I wrote a little note: Courtesy of Eduardo Garza, and placed it in the hole the safe used to be in. The guy was still knocked out cold, but it wouldn’t be long until he woke up and found the safe gone, although I wasn’t sure he’d even notice. Either way, my job here was done. Now all I had to do was go back and tell Garza, and then I could head to the apartment I was using.

The break I was waiting for was coming. I could feel it in my bones. Garza had me going to more meets and warehouses, and I knew of at least ten places that had copious amounts of drugs stored—enough to put him away for a long time—but we needed something else. We needed all of his businesses, not just one of his hustles. His clubs and bars laundered money. All I had to do was find the proof, and then we could take him down. Eight months. I’d been undercover for eight months, and I was at the stage where I wanted to go home. It was so easy to lose yourself on an undercover job, and I could feel myself on the edge of the cliff. I needed out and back to my normal life, if only for a little while.

I pulled open the car door and pushed inside, my gaze flicking over to Rory, who had the safe on his lap. “Why didn’t you put it in the trunk?” I started up the engine.

“No point.”

I supposed he was right. If he put it into the trunk, he’d only have to get it out again when we got to Garza’s house, and it was only a twenty-minute drive until we were pulling up at the gates and being let inside by his security detail. That was another thing Garza didn’t take for granted. He was constantly surrounded by people who would take a bullet for him without a second thought, which meant when we finally did take him down, we’d have a fight on our hands.

The car shuddered to a stop as I pulled up outside the front door, and I pushed out of the car, knowing Rory would be right behind me. The front doors to the mansion opened up, and one of his guards patted me down. He took my gun attached to my belt and the one on my ankle, but unlucky for him, I still had my knife taped to my side. I never went anywhere without a weapon I could conceal.