LUKE
I sit on the other side of Dex—the same place I’ve been for days now. He doesn’t talk much but that suits me just fine. I’m a firm believer in only saying something when it’s absolutely necessary.
Several times he’s gone into the back with someone, but not once have I been asked to follow, so when Dex turns around and tilts his head to the door, I know this is it. This is when I’ll find out exactly what’s happening back there.
He stands and I follow, my stomach flip-flopping with adrenaline as he pushes open the door and steps into a small hallway before he walks toward another door and opens it.
We both step into a large room that’s filled to the brim with wooden crates, stamps adorning the sides. My gaze zones in on them, and as soon as I see what they say, I know they’re firearms.
I mentally check through all the information Charlie gave me, and so far all the intel is true. Almost too true.
“I need you to be my front man,” Dex tells me.
“Got it.” I nod before pulling my gun out of my waistband and holding it loosely in my hand at my side. I never show where I hide my weapons, so him only seeing this one gives the illusion he knows more about me than he really does. It’s all a trick though. A front I learned to put on not only when I’m undercover but also every day since I was sixteen. I can’t let anyone know what I’m thinking or what I’m feeling. It’s dangerous. Not only for them, but me too.
I’ve only shown a slither of who I really am to one person, and just thinking about her has a smile wanting to break out on my face. She’s doing better than I ever thought she would. Each time I go to the house and see her, the blue in her eyes is a little brighter. She’s more alive than ever.
“Anything said in this room stays in this room. Yeah?”
I internally shake the thoughts from my mind, concentrating on the task at hand. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
He turns around so he’s facing the door and waits until three knocks reverberate around us. A beat later a couple of guys appear. I try to keep my face neutral when I recognize one even though my hands itch to shoot him and blow this whole operation to pieces. I know better than that though.
“James,” Dex greets and I frown as my mind works overtime. James looks over at me but there’s no recognition there, either that or his poker face is in place.
They start talking about what weapons he needs, saying “Boss” several times as I try to work out just what the hell is happening here. He is the boss—or at least that’s what we thought. My instincts tell me there’s way more to this than we know, and when they shake hands I realize the meeting is over and I missed crucial information. Fuck.
I should have soaked up every fuckin’ word but instead I was trying to figure out why the hell he was calling him James instead of Darrell.
Narrowing my eyes, I watch as James hands over a bag. His jerky movements and slumped shoulders scream out he’s not who we thought he was. Was it all a front? Is the real Darrell out there?
Fuck! After months of research and intel, we still have no idea who Darrell is.
Dex looks inside the bag before turning around and handing it over to me. Discreetly looking, I see some bills inside. It’s a transaction. That’s what I missed. He’s just sold him all the guns in these crates. There has to be hundreds in here. We knew Darrell dealt in all sorts, but guns are a first for him.
I cringe when I think about them on the streets available to anyone who has the cash.
Dex moves beside me and whispers, “We stay until they’ve taken them and then head back to the bar for a drink. Then we all leave. Me first, then you.”
“’Kay.”
We don’t move as we watch them take the crates out the other entrance to the room and load them onto a truck. I’ve never seen a team of three guys work so quick, and within minutes James and Dex are shaking hands.
I keep my cool and follow after Dex as he walks back into the bar and orders us both drinks.
Dex finishes his drink quickly before he pats me on the shoulder and leaves, but I stay put, my mind elsewhere. I’m trying to piece it all together, but the fact is I need the team. The whole team. This is a bigger shitstorm than we all thought.
I slam back the whiskey and head out of the bar. I keep my body calm as I walk back to the motel as if it’s just any other day, not letting anything show until I’m back inside my room and pulling my burner cell out to call Ty.
“Yeah.”
“Boss.”
“About time you called…” There’s some shuffling over the line before I hear his muffled voice say, “It’s my mom.” I wait several beats until he tells me, “Talk.”
“I’m in but there’s more to it.”