The Sunset Job (The Rainbow's Seven 1)

Bang Bang? The big, burly, trigger-happy (and overall just happy) bear of a man who Roman considered to be his best friend, but was that title enough to stop him from taking some kind of outrageous offer in exchange for information? Bang Bang loved his guns and collected rare ones, going to great lengths to acquire a few of them. Could the Pride have something he wanted badly enough to screw over the Rainbow’s Seven?

Phantom, Mustang, Doc… Wyatt. He couldn’t imagine any of them stabbing him in the back. And it was in those blind spots that mistakes were made.

“You need more sunscreen,” Doc said, sitting down in a chair, tying her hair up in a loose ponytail. She tossed over the bright orange bottle of sunscreen, and Roman caught it with one hand. “Your forehead is starting to look like a baboon’s asshole.”

Roman gave a hearty laugh at that imagery. “Is it the baboon’s asshole that’s red or the butt cheeks?”

Doc tilted her head and pushed out her bottom lip. “That—hmm, that’s a good question. Too bad I’m a trained medical professional and not a zoologist specializing in primate assholes.”

“Who’s an asshole?” Bang Bang said, dropping into a chair, the rest of the gang coming up behind him.

“No one, we’re just talking about monkeys.” Roman stood up, looking around at the assembled group, sweaty and sandy after their game. “But enough about baboons and their assholes. We’ve got work to do today.”

Phantom arched a brow. “Baboon… assholes?”

Doc nodded and asked, “Yeah, do you think they’re red or skin colored?”

“Damn, you know, I’ve never really thought of—”

“Yeah, none of us have, Phantom. We’ll figure it out later. Google it if you want, just make sure you have private browsing set up.” Roman gave Doc a wink before she rolled her eyes and grabbed her phone, her sparkly fuchsia nails flying across the screen.

“Alright, now that you guys are warmed up, I think it’s time to go get what we came for. Everyone clear on the plan?”

They all nodded. It wasn’t a very complicated plan to begin with, and it would only kick in if the phrase Roman was given didn’t work for whatever reason. He was done getting surprised, so having a plan B this leg of the job was crucial.

Roman would go in first, find Amelia, and say the phrase he was told to say. If all went right, he’d be handed the page, and off they went on their merry way, one step closer to billions of dollars.

If that didn’t work, then plan B went into effect. Mimic, Bang Bang, and Wyatt would go into the bakery under the guise of husbands accompanied by their wedding planner, looking for lavish cakes for their big gay wedding. While they distracted Amelia downstairs, Phantom would sneak past and break into her upstairs apartment. He’d have thirty minutes tops to case the place and find the page before Amelia grew suspicious of her new customers.

“Doc and Mustang, you guys can drive ahead. Scout the place out and make sure none of those Pride fuckers are around. We’ll walk over there. It shouldn’t be far.”

Mustang smiled, pushing some rogue curls out of her face. “I’ll race you there.”

“I think it’s safe to say you’ll win that one.”

“I’ll pop a tire. Give you all an advantage. Not a big one, mind you.”

Roman smirked, a hand on Mustang’s shoulder, answering with a simple “Fuck no.”

Mustang laughed and left with Doc, the two of them teasing each other about their big loss in the volleyball match, Doc blaming it on the fact that Mustang couldn’t keep her eyes off Mimic.

“What about you and Bang Bang?” Mustang asked. “He almost spiked the ball into your gaping jaws. Probably wished it was something else.”

That was the last the crew heard of them before they got into the car. Bang Bang looked around, grinning from ear to ear. “She was checking me out, huh?”

They started down the packed river bank, friends and families and couples all basking in the sun, soaking in all of the energy that the most romantic city on this planet had to offer. You could feel it in the air—a magic in the warmth, a sparkle in the light, a shine in everyone’s eyes. Couples leaned over picnic baskets and laughed through their kisses, hands touching, wineglasses empty.

“This place is beautiful. It’s like all the stories say—Paris really is the city of love,” Wyatt said at his side, plucking the thoughts right out of his own head. “I can’t believe I’m even here.”

“I’m glad you are,” Roman said, and his belly suddenly did a summersault through a field of butterflies as he reached for Wyatt’s hand. He had an urge and decided to act on it, hoping it wasn’t a dumb move. Wyatt stiffened for the slightest moment, his eyes looking ahead at Phantom, Mimic, and Bang Bang arguing about the best flavor macarons they’d had.