THIRTY-ONE
“PoundTown?”Liamlaughed, smacking the steering wheel with his fist. “Oh god, Sully. The boy is priceless. How are you listening to all this with a straight face? So cool and unaffected?”
He was wrong. I wasn’t unaffected. My adrenaline was already running high, given Kit was on his own in that gambling house. It didn’t matter that he knew we were close by or that we could see everything on the screen at the front of the car and hear his conversations. If anyone in that house knew what Kit was there for or even figured out his connection to me, he would be dead before we got to him.
What the hell had I been thinking when I agreed to this? Kit was…everything to me. We might not have known each other for long, but he’d stampeded into my life and mowed down every fucking barrier I’d spent years building and maintaining. And I’d sent him into the lion’s den. We’d taught him how to shoot a gun, but he still winced every time he pulled the trigger. He didn’t even have a gun on him, so knowing how to use one wouldn’t help him.
He was on his own, with his smarts to lead on those men and get me what I wanted—Ivan Grimaldo.
Whether it was the element of danger or listening to Kit flirt, all the blood flow seemed concentrated between my legs. I shifted to ease some of the pressure.
This was hardly the time to be turned on by Kit flirting with other men.
“You’re not getting an aneurysm over there, are you, Sully?” Liam asked.
“Will you just shut up and listen?”
“I get it. I wouldn’t be able to listen to that too, but damn, he’s good. Listen to this.”
Kit had made his way into one of the four gambling rooms. He’d told us that on the nights when he had entertained men for Nolan, at least two dozen men had been present. I hadn’t been surprised at some names on the guest list. Politicians, businessmen, and the criminal underbelly of the city uniting for sex and money.
“Fancy seeing you again, Mr. Judge.” From Kit’s camera, we couldn’t see the man’s face. He was too short, but he’d said enough for us to be sure who he was talking to.
“What can I say?” Judge Nelson put his hand on Kit’s arm briefly. “They got me hooked on everything this place offers. Drinks, gambling, and slutty boys who’ll do everything my wife won’t.”
“This thing is recording, right?” Liam asked, drowning out what Kit replied.
“Yes.”
“Great, this is gold. This might come in handy one day if we need a favor from the judge. He can get us into places.”
“That’s a good idea.”
We did this from time to time. Harvest information we might need to use later to get someone to comply with whatever we wanted.
Nobody seemed to mind Kit being there. He was apparently popular among the men, even those I would have assumed were straight. He sat on laps, teased, taunted, and flirted his way from one room to the other. So far, we hadn’t glimpsed Grimaldo.
“I see him,” Kit said softly, and I straightened up in my seat. Now things should get interesting. According to Kit, Grimaldo would ignore him, but at some point during the night, he would insist that Kit go off with him. He would slip out, get into his car, and wait for Kit to follow. The plan depended on him doing the same tonight. Then we could nab him while he was with Kit.
Kit angled his body, allowing us to see Grimaldo on screen. The man sat at the table in the middle of the room with five other men. He glanced up in Kit’s direction, and although he looked away quickly, the way his eyes lit up was telling.
Kit circled the room, then stopped at the table.
“Vic, you never said you had entertainment planned for us tonight,” someone said.
“Just one of Nolan’s whores trying to make some money,” the man I assumed was Vic replied.
“My luck’s been a bitch tonight, boy.” Kit turned to show the man who spoke. Fred Bruhner, a high school principal. “Come sit on my lap and bring me some luck.”
Kit sashayed over to him and sat. “Ooh, someone’s happy to see me.”
“Either way, I’m getting some tonight.”
Kit moaned—fake moan. I knew his real one, low and deep, with a hint of desperation. With Grimaldo sitting at the opposite end of the table, we had a good enough view of the other man.
“Shit.” Liam shifted in his chair, and I pretended I didn’t see him adjusting the front of his pants. “How long do you think this will take?”
“Who knows? He’s working the room really good, and I think Kit was right that Grimaldo favors him. Check out the way Grimaldo keeps watching them when he thinks nobody is looking. My guess is that any minute now he’ll do something to get Kit away from Bruhner.”